Oh the Wonders of Anesthesia!

My husband, who shall remain nameless, but whose initials are Rick Crosby, had surgery on his old, decrepit knee on Tuesday this week. He’s been wearing a knee brace to play hockey for eight or nine years, ever since a catastrophic skiing day with our family in Canada. Finally two weeks ago, he completely tore his ACL and limped even with the brace on until this week.  Now he snores on the couch while his polar pack keeps his elevated knee nice and chilly.

The night after surgery is ALWAYS entertaining with this man. I should know. This is surgery #5 for us. Our children found his erratic comments highly entertaining and I scribbled them down as fast as I could so we could read them to him in the morning…. AND for your reading pleasure today. Here you go!

(He is wearing a full-leg support stocking on the non-hurt leg.) “Why is my white leotard dirty? Lin, how come it’s dirty?” I explained that he kneeled on the floor in the van to get his heavily medicated self into the vehicle for the ride home. “Well that carpet in the van is FILTHY!” (Not really.) I told him that we have another one that is clean for him to put on later. “Oh! I have two pair. Is it two pair or two pairs? Two pair. Two pairs. Do you know, Lin?” (He only has one pair.)

(To our two teenage boys) “What did you guys do today? … I had surgery!” (No duh!)

I asked Rick if he needed some pillows to prop himself up. “Yeah, some pillows or a hockey bag.” (How comfortable!)

“Lin, are you getting my pain pills at CSV?” (It’s called CVS.)

“Can I have some more pizza?” I explained that he couldn’t because he was supposed to take eating slowly after surgery. “I am going slow! It took me forever to eat those two pieces!”

(While I’m at the store….) “Nora, just bring me a piece of pizza and I will pay you a dollar. Your mom’s gone. She won’t know.” (Nice!)

(We were having a party dinner for Nora because it was her Gotcha Day, four years since she joined our family.) “How come everything is purple?”

(Nora started opening her gifts.) “What is taking her so long?” (It had been eight seconds.) “Someone help her!… Keeve, help your sister!… Is she almost done opening her birthday presents?”

(Nora opened a purple headband.) “Is that a halter top?” (Oh my!)

I wanted to take a picture of Nora and her Daddy for Gotcha Day. When I finished, Rick asked, “Who else wants to get their picture taken with me?” Both boys said, “No, I’m good!” Rick yelled, “Keeve get over here!” So we have pictures of the boys both laughing so hard as they get their pictures taken with him.

“I’m really hungry. I haven’t eaten for 20 hours.” I reminded him of the two pieces of pizza he just ate and told him to drink his water. “I will! Holy smokes, this straw is HUGE!”

“Hey…. um… are the Oilers playing tonight?” (Edmonton Oilers, his favorite hockey team.) Austin replied sarcastically, “Yes, and the score is two to three and Gretzky just scored!” (Gretzky hasn’t played on the Oilers since the early 90s.) “The Oilers SUCK this year!” (He would NEVER say this, even though it’s true.)

I suggested that Nora go share a purple Tic-Tac with her father. “Yeah, I won’t choke. I’m good!” (Sure you are, honey!)

“What day is it?” Tuesday. “It’s cheap night at the theaters!” (You’re not going anywhere, Superman.)

“What year is it?” Austin, again, sarcastically answers, 1987. “Hey, that’s the year I got married.” Then he looked around at the three kids with this confused look on his face and said, “I must have had insta-kids!”

Our daughter called from Oklahoma to enjoy the festivities surrounding anesthesia. Her father explained all about Lady Mary Crawley from Downton Abbey and how she is the tall one with dark hair who is grieving because her husband died. (WOW!)

Then our daughter’s boyfriend got on the phone and Rick asked when he is coming to visit. He replied December 26th. “Oh! Boxing Day! That’s the day before wrestling day, but you’re not supposed to do that until you’re married!” (What in the world???? I apologize on his behalf, John.)

And the entire night he kept asking, “WHAT is so funny?”  You are, dear. You just can’t make this stuff up!

Oh Canada!

There will be several more episodes to Kings Canyon Camping, but at the moment, there will be a halt in the story telling.  I fly out in the morning to my second homeland, Canada.  Yes, I’m a dual citizen, not because I married a Canadian, but because my mother is Canadian.  Voila!  Dual rights, baby.

As much as I would love to sit here and type out the camping shower fiasco, or the back-of-the-bus barfing game, or the roadkill bingo, I am in the midst of packing and planning.  If I have had the pleasure of speaking when you are in the audience, you know, as well as I do, that a good time was had by all.  To say that I love speaking is an understatement… it is what gives me purpose and life and liberty and justice for all. Amen.

However, (enter somewhat sinister music playing in the background) I have been challenged lately by our good Lord about many excesses and life’s circumstances in the cushy ol’ US of A.  It has broken down some barriers in my heart.  I used to half-proudly say that mercy and grace don’t show up on my “gifts” list.  But I have had glimpses of both in the last two years.  Orphans break my heart.  Hence, our quest to open our home to one darling Colombian.  Widows and widowers are starting to find a soft place in my heart.  Homeless people… displaced people… people simply having a rough go of it… and refugees.. and children who live on the streets.  There are so many needs surrounding us that it could be quite overwhelming.  But God gives us all the same amount of time…. 24 hours a day… to reach out to those in our circle of influence… and those who live just outside our comfortable circle.

So, all that to say, my speaking this coming Monday night in the Great White North will not be the fat-n-happy laughing times of old.  It has me a bit nervous.  I’m used to being liked.  This may go down … um… not pretty.  Pray for the women’s hearts to be opened to God’s will for their lives.  And pray, please, that I will say exactly what I’m supposed to say to bring awareness to some cushy lives, to make the cozy nests prickly, to awaken some dreams of good will, to stir some hearts toward the hurting, and quite possibly to open a mother’s eyes to her child who is on the other side of the world waiting for a mama.

It’s been at least five years since I’ve been in Zellers, The Real Canadian Superstore, Tim Horton’s or a Canadian Tire.  :o)  Should be a rockin’ good time, eh!

The RR Camping Saga

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Yes, the men and boys arrived home safely yesterday from two nights in the woods.  This was a highly frustrating trip for those who like comfort and order.  It was a highly amusing time for those who like to laugh in the face of confusion.  And it was a highly entertaining time for ALL the boys.  They’ll remember this trip for the rest of their lives.

The Royal Rangers (fondly known as Ritalin Rangers) from the Arizona District had their Grand Fall Pow Wow with several churches participating from around the state.  Poo Bah Poo Bah.  My dear husband is one of many commanders at our church and arranged for our RR boys to go. The plan was to leave on Friday around noon and head to a Boy Scout’s camp near the Grand Canyon, 3.5 hours northwest of us.  Then Tuesday they get an email that states that the camp in closed for construction and the Pow Wow had been moved to Payson, 1.5 hours east-north-east of us.  OK.  No problem.  Then THURSDAY they got an email that said it was indeed back at the Grand Canyon camp.  FINE.  Off they went on Friday.

 

Photo by T. Robertson

Can I just add here that on Thursday night close to midnight, my dear husband handed me the grocery list for the 26 campers and asked me to put quantities beside the items…. AND put the list in the order of the Walmart aisles.  Well, one look at the list and I started crossing off stuff.  Saturday morning breakfast included eggs, bacon, pancakes, syrup, bagels, cream cheese, coffee, hot chocolate, milk and orange juice.  No names mentioned, but the list was made by two of the cushy-hotel-campers.  I chiseled it down to pancakes, syrup, bacon, coffee and milk.  There.  (And there were no fruits or vegetables on the entire list for five meals…….)  I digress.  And yes, I put it in Walmart order and saved my dear husband at least two ours of wandering time.

SO, they get up to the Grand Canyon camp to find the gates locked… and an Under Construction sign.  Sigh.  They couldn’t just turn around and head to Payson because there was another truck load of boys and dads on their way.  For the next three hours they drove around and around and around looking for a camp ground.  By 9:30 p.m. they pulled off a lonely road into the trees and set up camp.  No bathrooms.  No running water.  My husband was in his Native Canadian Indian element… this is how he spent his summers growing up.  No big deal.  But for the clean-fingernail-crowd, it cramped their camping style.

They returned with smiles on their dirty, unshaven faces with every sleeping bag, foamy mattress and pillow WET!  Lovely.  I’m SOOOOOOOOOOOO glad it was a father-son trip.  :o)