Estoy dando abrazos.

He was the kind of guy that needed two personal cell phones. He was the kind of guy that got a kick out of translating his vernacular for me. He was the kind of guy that did not give hugs. 

But what if he needed a hug? 

He awoke from surgery, blinking the effects of anesthesia from his eyes. I stood at his bed side letting him know surgery was done. Turning his head towards my voice and attempting to bring my face into focus, his eyes filled with great big teddy bear tears. He grabbed my hand that had been resting on his arm to help emphasize reassurance, and began to pull me in. In a second the situation raced through my brain. His week-old unwashed body, the unkempt beard now filled with mucous and bile results of intubation and gastric decompression, the tube still exiting from his nare now clamped and laying across his chest, not to mention the need for acrobatics just to bend my body over the bed railing to get close enough to wrap my arms half his circumference. All with lingering anesthesia still running through his veins, he wouldn't remember any of this anyways. What would you do? Would you hug him?

 

I continue to make use of my time here in the MidWest. Spent the other weekend snuggling Lainey Rae, and enjoying time with Regg & Bev's growing family.

Lainey Rae. I think she looks like her big brothers.

Speaking of big brothers: proving you can't be too young to absolutely destroy a charcuterie board. 

Okay, maybe the three adults helped a little bit! 

Boyd (left) enjoyed picking some dandelions for us. Deja vu?  Tucker (right)

Much Love.

P.S. Of course you hug him!

Estoy paso por paso.

 Still standing. Just took it slow, and kept going. In the end, had a great run through the Sierras, morning sunlight streaming through the giant trees. It was wonderful!

At bib pickup the evening before the race. But good luck finding my name, I can't even find it anymore and I know where to look. It fades well into the thousands.

All runners had to be shuttled to the top of the mountain for the start of the race. Based on my previous half times I was assigned an early wave that would have had me catching the shuttle at 4:20am. Thankfully my running buddies were assigned later start times, which ment the sun was starting to rise when we caught our shuttle and thankfully starting to warm the mountain when we arrived at the start. That being said, I was freezing and couldn't wait to get moving. Monica and I at 5400ft and ready to go!

The race had a few photographers planted throughout the race. The photos at the finish line at too up close and personal for comfort, so here's a random one from mid-race. As far a half marathons go, I would highly recommend the Yosemite half to anyone. Of the 13.1 miles approximately 7 miles of that is actually downhill. Half is trail running the other half is paved. So it's on the easier side as far as races go. Plus, proved it can be done with Hb of 8. And last but not least, it's Yosemite, enough said.

Our group in Yosemite at the finish line L to R: Josh, Beth, Zoey (puppy), Burk, Becca, me, Monica. When I convinced Monica to run the race with me back in Sept of last year she mentioned it to her partner at work (Beth). Beth in turn told her husband (Josh) who subsequently decided to run the race himself and likewise dragged his friend (Burk) to sign up as well. Sometimes we never get to see the chain reactions of our own actions. This time I did get to see the effect, made me even happier to be out running with them. 

With the race over, we had fun exploring Yosemite National Park.

Pardon for including six photos of Yosemite Valley. I had fun making this stop at different times of the day and then playing with the effects of the sun as it hit the valley at different angles.

The closest I got to climbing El Cap.... this time around at least ;)

Talk about dinner with a view. Awesome! The firefall pizza was fantastic as well!

Crossing the Merced River. The Mist Trail.

First glimpse of Vernal Falls from the Merced River. The Mist Trail. 

Full rainbow along the Merced River. The Mist Trail.

Vernal Falls. The Mist Trail was very appropriately named. We were completely soaked!

Vernal Falls from the Mist Trail.

Vernal Falls.

The Mist Trail above Vernal Falls.

Above Vernal Falls.

Continuing along the Mist Trail as it follows the Merced River up, next is Nevada Falls.

Top of Nevada Falls.

Top of Nevada Falls. See me yet? God definitely had fun when he painted Yosemite.

Top of Nevada Falls. In case you missed it in the first picture as well; these trees growing in that crack like God himself planted them. Life lesson?

Taking the John Muir Trail back down the mountain from the top of Nevada Falls.

Nevada Falls. the John Muir Trail.

Westchester reunion. Me, Niu & Monica. Same as with Monica, had so much fun catching up with Niu. I so greatly appreciated her as a co-resident; one of those relationships you want to take care to maintain. The restaurant Niu choose was the best. Even though it was closing time for the afternoon, they let us sit in their deserted restaurant chit chatting and eating sushi. I was so engrossed in our conversation that I didn't fully realize we were alone until they opened for the evening again and people started piling in.

Much Love.

Estoy enferma.

 People are funny. They're unique. They're interesting. Kind. Dangerous. Brilliant. And some plumb lost, lost to reality, lost to sense. There's all sorts, and all are loved. I met a particularly interesting one the other day. Filled our discourse with questions. Some could interpret it as him drilling me, not that I think he was in doubt, but rather he honestly wanted to understand what that number in parenthesis was and what it meant. He was referring to the mean arterial pressure, and I wasn't too proud to quick check the formula before telling him to make sure I had gotten it right. MAP = DP + 1/3(SP – DP) in case you' were wondering. We then moved onto his reason for hospitalization, and I took him in a step-wise fashion through the anatomy of the billiary system and its physiology, or in his case the pathophysiology. When I mentioned a slight chance he would experience diarrhea if eating a cheese pizza, he threw his hands up in exasperation and exclaimed, it's the government! I paused to allow him dramatic effect assuming he was being facetious. He wasn't. He continued. In complete sincerity, he expressed his disgust at the government's scheming plan to get the American population to stop eating cheese pizzas. I debated a second, was it worth reiterating the known, well studied, and proven pathophysiology concerning what was happening in his body right now? Then, in the next second, I weighed that against the immediate and whole earnestness his mind had embraced his new found conspiracy.  In the third second, I smiled and smoothly changed the subject aiming our discourse trajectory towards a quick end. People are... more than words can describe sometimes. 

This year continues to hold surprises for me. A patient brought me a small token to her follow up appointment. What struck me most, just as I never fancied myself a robotic surgeon, I also never fancied myself a breast surgeon. Yet here I am, doing the work God has before me.

I broke down and had some blood work done this past week. Turns out I'm pretty anemic. Not severe, but bad enough that a handful of years ago it would justify a blood transfusion. I started noticing worsening symptoms last summer, which were dramatically exacerbated when I went through my caffeine detox a few months ago. It makes sense now, that caffeine had been compensating for the lack of oxygen carrying capacity my blood currently has. When I no longer was taking that caffeine, it felt like I couldn't lift my legs, I couldn't climb a flight of stairs, and for running I was forced to slow it way down. That lasted about 3 months, now it's just regular symptoms again. The race I ran the other week was the tipping point. I am flying to California tomorrow. I am going from an elevation of 700ft here in Lafayette, to an elevation of 5000ft at Yosemite, and plan to run a half marathon.  Sure I ran that race the other week, but it just did not feel right. It hasn't felt right for a long time now, and after months of explaining it away, and thinking it's all in my head, I figured best to check before I go to Yosemite. I'm still planning on running the half, but now that I know it's not all in my head and I have a reason for feeling like I do, it removes all the pressure of the race. You see, my goal now is just to finish without passing out. I just hope my pride doesn't get in the way too much, and if I need to walk, I'll actually do that. On the bright side, dark chocolate is actually a good source of iron! Who knew?

 

The reasons for my need to stay in Lafayette longer that I had originally anticipated keep stacking up. We are impatient creatures, I am especially guilty of that struggle myself. As a surgeon, I enjoy being able to fix what is broken. No such quick fix with my own anemia unfortunately. But even in life, to near the end of a 20+ year journey with the finish line in sight, my nature wants to sprint. Instead I'm told to slow down. When I try to ignore and keep sprinting, God takes that slowing down out of my hands, and forces it. It's times like these that I am reminded of God's Sovereignty over the Universe, and I feel very, very, very small. 

I read a C.S. Lewis quote today, "There is no neutral ground in the universe: every square inch, every split second, is claimed by God and counter claimed by Satan." And I feel even smaller than before. What is slowing down, really, what is time when compared to El Olam? He is eternal, and yet He cares for each of our seconds from now to eternity. A time to run, and time to slow down, as long as the seconds are from Him and for Him. 

Much Love.