Estoy manejando motos.

 I have lost track of the number of times "I can't. I just can't." made it past my lips this past week; probably an umpteenth or something along the lines of a gazillion. It was said in almost pure disbelief and fascination rather than frustration or a refusal to continue. A single patient, who I have been working with... or should I say attempting to work with, for the past year was the subject receiving this disbelief and fascination. This patient had been the recipient of not only a second chance, but was going on approximately his 27th chance. I had brought my conundrum to my partner at one point, all out of my own ideas on how to help. He naively asked if the patient actually wanted the surgery, and if so to use that as motivation for the patient. A tactic I had previously employed for chances 7 through 26 in various methods and approaches, all unsuccessfully. Yes, the patient indeed wanted the surgery. But somehow, no amount of coaching, coaxing, or spoon-feeding, could get the patient to 1) show up or 2) actually show up prepared or 3) actually show up prepared, and approved. I was at my wits end, and not knowing what more I could possibly do to help the guy. And therefore, simply speechless, "I can't. I just can't." was about all I could muster.

It honestly made me appreciate just how many chances Jesus gives me. How many times he's had to spell it out for me, or even physically move my feet for me to get me to move. Does he shake his head in disbelief at my helplessness and dependency too?

 I was able to make a quick trip out to the East Coast last weekend for the wedding of Emily Walder and Mike Bahler. Congratulations to them. I went a day early to visit up in Vermont with Kevin & Cheryl Ryan.

View of the Ryan's backyard. So unique. Loved getting to see the area with them. 

View of Vermont from Haystack after a quick Saturday morning hike.

Finn, our fearless leader. I had gotten off trail at one point, and didn't realize until I noticed Finn had paused and was staring at me through the trees with his head cocked as if to ask, "What are you doing over there?"

Marble quarry turned swimming hole. 

Quick stop at a bookstore you ask? That isn't even a question. Yes. Definitely stop. 

Northshire Bookstore.

Much Love.

Estoy corriendo con color.

 I've realized I like orange on my running shoes. In a world that is slowly losing its color, running is my sanity, my color. After my feet started hurting during runs recently, I had to admit I'd run through another pair. I actually went to a store this time, tried on maybe 9 different pairs. Ultimately decided on a pair that were comfortable despite the left shoe not fitting right, but they were midnight blue with a thin streak of orange and pink across them. That thin streak was enough for me to ignore the issues my left foot was having and make the purchase. Within a week I had officially retired the shoes for return having only 9 toenails left intact. I hadn't realized just how enticing that strip of orange had been until I regretted it. Dumb thing is... this is America. If I want orange on my shoes, chances are there's minimum 20 options to choose from. Choose better.

Currently find myself in the string of an intense few weeks of calls. Last weekend had been gentle on me until Sunday when a patient got home from an evening with his wife and doubled over in pain. When I got the call from the ED for the consult, I hung up and immediately called the on-call anesthesiologist. Mobilized the OR team before even leaving the house to go see the patient. In the end, had him in the OR and on the table approximately 4 hours after his reported onset of pain. Still wasn't fast enough, and what I had hoped would be a quick surgery took all night.  I'm thankful everyone was as fast as they were. Definitely could have been even worse for the patient. 

I debated driving home after finishing up all the paperwork for the above case, but time was minimal at that point and I'd just have to turn around again for my elective case in the morning. Call rooms are there for a reason. So I crashed and then woke, brushed my teeth, and drank some coffee. As I've previously learned, ever since weaning myself off coffee, surgery doesn't go well when I'm in a caffeinated state. Both my tech and I were extremely tired and over caffeinated that morning, needless to say we were a bit jumpy. But we made it through and ultimately, in the end the case ended beautifully. Maybe in just a round about way to get there; surgery is after all creative.

I am going to blame lack of sleep and coinciding caffeine-induce tachycardia, but for some reason, when I finally made it home, rather than rest, I thought it a good idea to drink more coffee. My body eventually won in the end. The body always wins, I mean look at its Creator; He knew what He was doing with His divine design. But I digress, my body won and I fell asleep, uncomfortably tachycardic and all. I really should start respecting rest a bit more perhaps. 

Much Love.

Estoy aprendiendo frances.

1,001 posts! Only because I missed that the previous post was #1000. 

In church today one's ministry was associated with sleepless nights. Is that it? Satan hard at work to disable our ability to perform. To doubt, have second thoughts and wonder through the what if's essentially rendering us frozen in fear. How true is this for you?

There's been a number of truths God has reaffirmed for me recently. One that I most greatly appreciate is how much He cares for each of the individuals that walk this Earth. His investment and love for the nomad of Mongolia, the girl sold by her parents to the underworld, the singer on broadway, and myself are equal in depth, truth and perfectness. It has given me a renewed and joyful appreciation for each patient God places in my way. It is His design, the weaving of His tapestry that any two threads should meet and paths cross. This is my ministry, and I give it back to Jesus, to weave as He sees perfect.

Recently went on a very spontaneous trip up to St. Joseph, Michigan. Just to appreciate God's creation as only the MidWest can offer. You'll be proud of me, limited the photos to post. 

Much Love.