New Mexico Pretty

I wish I had one of those features like the voice over on the TV show Glee so that I could quickly recap from the last posting to the current one. I am busy or lazy or both and find it hard to keep this up to date. It's a good sign that my life is now full of fun, activities, and yes, work, that I don't often stop to record my day, my week or even my month.

So imagine, a real quick summary goes like this...my Mom came to visit for a recheck at Duke; her vision is now 20/63 in the "blind eye." She had another Avastin injection. Follow up again in 1 month. My sister blew out her back-really, her disc ruptured, and she had surgery this week. Nurse Dad was there for a week, followed by Nurse Mom, who is there now. Handy when your parents can go from patient to medical care provider so adeptly. Work has been busy-crazy busy. I saw more than 100% of my expected patient load for July, August and September. That's a lot of charts, exams, notes, and labs to handle.
And, we took a week of vacation to New Mexico over Labor Day.

We met Holly's parents in Taos at a house her Mom had rented for the week (Pepe's Place). It was just north of town with a spectacular view of Wheeler Peak, the highest spot in NM at 13,161 ft. A beautiful mountain range stretched out behind the house with gorgeous views of pink and purple light as the sun went down each night. The light in NM really is spectacular- as wonderful as everyone says it is. I can see why Georgia O'Keefe fell in love with it. The light changes everyday, and the views of the sky and mountains are stunning. Taos is a terrific town and reminds me a lot of Asheville and Arcata. The downtown is small and walkable, with plenty of art galleries, boutique shops, and eateries. Wisely, they have relegated the chain stores to the highway on the southern edge of town. The mix of tourists, gringos, native americans, and hispanics makes for a pretty interesting culture too. We met two women who were hiking Williams Lake the same day we were, who said that they enjoy splitting their time between Ft Myers, Florida in the winter and Taos in the summer. I can see why. Summer is sunny and warm with cool nights. Winter, apparently is long but also sunny; they'll have snow by the end of this month at some of the higher elevations. Thus the abundance of Subarus everywhere.

Here's a partial list of things we did:

a trip to Santa Fe to see the Abstract exhibit at the Georgia O'Keefe museum

a hike to Williams Lake with another hour of hiking up the bushwack trail towards Wheeler peak

a hike up Gold Hill Mtn (12711 ft); it was 38 F when we started that hike

running through our Upper Colonias neighborhood each morning with the mountain vistas filling our eyeballs

Holly and her Dad went horseback riding with a real, live, honest to goodness cowboy in Arroyo Seco

I ate honest to goodness pinon caramel ice cream in Arroyo Seco (easier on the body in so many ways)

toured the downtown Plaza, where the historic center of town is now the de facto tourist crawl

ate lunch at a picnic area overlooking the Rio Grande

So that you can see what I mean about the light, I've included some photos from the trip.

Sadness Revisited

The last two days I have encountered worrisome laboratory findings waiting for me when I logged onto my computer in the morning. Yesterday, there were abnormalities in the bloodwork of one of my prenatal patients. After discussing her case with the OB specialist affiliated with our clinic, I had to send her straight to the hospital for a potential induction of labor even though her baby is only 33 weeks along. One of the sweetest parts of providing prenatal care is how one patient gets wheeled into the labor room but two, hopefully healthy, individuals emerge. However, one of the scariest parts is that both individuals are in danger when crises occur with the pregnancy or delivery. Hopefully, this time all will turn out well for both mom & baby.

Today, I pulled up the labs from my patients yesterday on my way into our weekly staff meeting. At the top, was the blood panel I'd ordered on a 7 yr old boy with a nosebleed. Mom mentioned that he seemed to bruise easily, more easily than his older brothers, so I'd ordered the blood counts to reassure both of us. Unfortunately, this little boy's labs were severely abnormal with low values of infection fighting cells, red blood cells and platelets (they help the blood to clot). As a first year intern, right out of medical school, I'd seen numerous cases of abnormal blood counts like these in children before they were diagnosed with leukemia. We seemed to have at least one case of new leukemia each week, as doctors from rural and far away areas sent their sick patients to be evaluated and treated by the Pediatricians specializing in childhood blood cancers. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized all that this patient and his mother had ahead of them. Though I had only seen the boy once, the previous day, I had to call his mom and deliver the bad news. And I had to send them immediately to UNC to be evaluated by the pediatric specialists in hematology/oncology. I tried to remain calm and reassuring on the phone even though I felt a dumptruck load of sadness raining down on me. By the time our staff meeting started, tears were rolling down my face. My colleagues were comforting, of course, but I couldn't hold back the tears. I suddenly felt so overwhelmed with pain and darkness for them, for their impending suffering. Childhood blood cancers are (now) 95% cured. But that road, well known to me from my own leukemia 2 yrs ago, is a tough one. Needless to say, I was never able to recover fully from the difficult start to my day-alternating between feeling so, so sad for them and reliving how hard all of that was for me.

Even now, hours later, I am still resonating in the sadness of what is to come for them. Though I feel especially lucky to have survived my own "major death scare," I feel uncertain and vulnerable. That is the hardest part of "sitting with it" . Tomorrow will be a bit better I do feel certain of that.

Flustrated

I try to let my patients tell me how they are feeling or describe whatever symptoms brought them to see me. Every once in a while, I hear a really good word that isn't, in fact, a word. When I was working in the rural countryside outside of Asheville, my patients often told me that they were "flustrated" by this or that. As I write it now, my computer's spellcheck is underlining it in red to let me know that it's not a real word. Well, let me say that it may not BE a real word but it IS a real feeling. I suspect the word originated when someone combined the words "frustrated" and "flustered," probably in some agitated state of mind.

Yesterday, my patients flustrated me (there goes that red underlining again). I had the middle aged, heavy woman who argued with me when I said I wouldn't write her out on disability from her Walmart greeter job. There was the young diabetic man with foot pain and whopping high sugar levels who doesn't take his insulin (which would lessen the nerve damage and subsequent foot discomfort). There was the 5 yr old just discharged from the Psych hospital, who screamed at his momma the whole time he was in the clinic. Regardless of what you personally believe about the value of psychiatry, some people really do need the help & expertise they provide. Suffice to say, he is one of them. Then there was the new patient who needed forms completed to renew her driver's license. After many roundabout questions, I finally learned that she needed to have an eye specialist evaluation and a psychiatry follow up for her schizophrenia. Whew! Am I helping these people at all? Some days I wonder if all of those years spent studying biochemistry and physiology should have been replaced by psychology and social work. I was completely undone by the end of the day, flustrated for sure.

Holly asked me what I planned to do for myself this morning before I head to the clinic. I decided to go to the Sportsplex and swim laps. I haven't been a swimmer in over 20 yrs-honestly. I used to swim quite a bit during college and graduate school. But I haven't been in a pool in decades (it's more scary to write that I haven't done something in DECADES than to actually do it. But there you go in middle age). I really had a great time. It took about 10 minutes to feel comfortable and get some semblance of form back. Then I swam for 50 minutes, which seemed long enough for a good workout and to chew up some of the anxiety and frustration from yesterday.

My mom left this morning, after staying with us for the past week. She was here to get a second opinion and another surgery on her eye at Duke. She'll be back in another month for her next evaluation. Hopefully she'll regain some sight in that eye. I'll say more about that later.

Grateful to be here. Thank you Holly for all of your help with my Mom's visit.

We watched Cherry Blossoms, a German movie, recently. Very lovely and bittersweet. I recommend it. Also saw an older movie, Diva, which was excellent as well.
Photo: My Mom and me at the beach house a few weeks ago (on my birthday).

Why I Left

On Palm Sunday, 3/28/2010, my stepfather died of brain cancer. The week before, my friend's mother died of complications associated with lymphoma and heart failure. The following week, our buddy Jo died of pancreatic cancer. It was just too much illness and death from cancer to leave my coping mechanisms untouched. I felt myself getting pulled further and further under water with each of their last days. I wanted to feel lucky to be alive, to have emerged from my own two bouts of cancer, but I couldn't muster it. My mood slipped lower and lower, sinking me into a panicky, worried state. Several days later, I attended a medical conference on the H1N1 or swine flu. The researcher presented information on the number of cases recorded in the state with information on the number of deaths from the virus. Three people died in the Duke Bone Marrow unit where I received my Leukemia treatment from June until November of 2006. That just hit too close to home. Had it been different timing, it could have been me dying of the flu when my immune system was obliterated by my chemo. Had it been different timing, it could have been me who was treated with Tamiflu, only to discover that my virus was resistant. Had it been different timing, it could have been me they intubated when my lungs stopped exchanging oxygen. No, it wasn't me, but I became more anxious and unhinged anyway.

Then I had my own health scare when one of my cell counts fell a bit below normal during one of my routine blood draws. It sent me over the edge. I couldn't concentrate at work or at home. I couldn't relax without worrying that the numbers were evidence that my leukemia was coming back. I fretted through 3 weeks of sadness and a whole new round of "what ifs?" Then I had my blood drawn again. My counts were back to normal. It was just a hiccup. I'd love to say that I found a way to control my emotions and all of the negative thoughts, the worries, but I didn't. My counts just came back to normal, and my mood improved. Hallelujah!

That's where I went for a while.

Happy Birthday to me...48th today.

Losing My Way

Last Friday I got a message on my cell phone from a police officer who asked me to call her about a subpoena. I guessed that one of my patients had stolen or forged a prescription. The policewoman informed me that I was being subpoena'd by an attorney in Asheville who needed me to testify in the criminal case of a former patient. The attorney had actually called me two weeks prior to ASK me if I'd be a witness for his client, someone who had been accused in a sex abuse case. The attorney hoped to refute the sex abuse allegations with my testimony verifying that his blood pressure medications made him sexually impotent. I refused to testify in his case, so he had me subpoena'd to compel me to testify. Usually I would be only irritated by such a maneuver. But I really lost my way on this one. My family has had plans to vacation at the beach with my newly widowed mother for months. Each year, my mother rents a wonderful place at the beach during the week of my birthday. This year, after all of the stress associated with my stepfather's diagnosis and subsequent death from brain cancer, we have been particularly looking forward to our week at the beach. I explained to the lawyer that I had a week of vacation with my family planned for the week of his trial. He explained that the court proceedings in this criminal case in Superior Court would take precedent over my vacation. (As my friend who is a lawyer explained-"the court doesn't care if you have vacation since your testimony may decide whether someone goes to jail ..."). I have to say, I came undone by this whole episode, which seemed like such an unfair travesty. I did not want to testify for this creep, and I resented the jerk of a lawyer for serving me with a subpoena that would potentially wreck my vacation unless he found another MD from my former clinic to testify.

I am ashamed to say that I focused entirely too much on the potential loss of my vacation with this inconvenient timing. I was in an "ill mood" as my grandmother used to call it, for most of the weekend and the early part of the workweek. I found it hard to focus on anything other than my anger. I kept telling myself that I needed to relax and let it go. I was letting it control me. And then I realized this whole episode for me was about control. Apparently, I have to keep learning this same lesson over and over again.

When I had cancer the first time, I realized that we are all going along, living our lives, just under the illusion that we are in control. I got through that tough, tough 6 mos of treatment, happy to emerge from the other side no worse for the experience. I went back to work, my hair grew back, and I moved on. When I got cancer the second time, as a result of the chemo and radiation used to treat the 1st cancer, I got that slap in the face again. It's as if the universe was saying (again), "You are not in control." Oh man, how many times am I going to learn and relearn and relearn this one? I mean encore un fois over again...
Sooooo, here I was realizing, encore un fois, that I am not in control. If the Superior Court of Buncombe County tries to subpoena me to testify in this case, who I am I to say that I won't be there-vacation or no. When I finally came to that realization, and let it go, my moodiness lifted. I felt so much happier. I wasn't ill or angry or resentful anymore. The next morning, I telephoned the lawyer and surprisingly was told that I didn't have to appear. He'd found another MD to testify in my stead.

What's the life lesson here? I lost my way because I thought I could control something that I couldn't. We all delude ourselves like this each and every day. Maybe it helps us somewhat. It can be paralyzing to think that whatever you do or plan can be readily undone by the universe. Here's what I took from it: I spent so much time being angry and upset, fretting about what would happen if I "lost" my vacation, that I lost 4 or 5 days to that funk. I'll never get that time back. And unlike most people, I actually am aware that our time here is precious. I squandered some of mine on something that didn't matter, really. Thankfully, when I let it go, I got good news, and I am now writing this from the beach. Hopefully, I'll be smarter next time.

Forever and a Day

I have been reluctant to write for quite some time, trying to deal with all of the life events of friends and family. On Palm Sunday about 9am, my mother became a widow. Brian's death did not come as a surprise, of course, since he had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer in September of 2009. But he seemed to do well with the surgery, chemo and radiation, and was at least, holding his own until the cancer returned around Christmastime. He never really recovered from the second major surgery- marked by one mishap after another-a head bleed, leakage of spinal fluid from his ear, delirium, a stroke that left him with poor strength on his right side, and then countless hours of rehab, followed by a restless course at home with hospice care. The end is never easy, and his wasn't either as my mom and his son, Vernon, struggled with him until his placement in the hospice facility in Mt. Pleasant. Even the last little bit dragged on more than usual, until Palm Sunday when he passed away just before 9 am.

We had a church memorial for him that Wednesday followed by the scattering of his ashes off the dock at their house. The service was terrific with Father Charlie, their former minister, doing the eulogy. Charlie had know Brian and my mother for a long time, and he really conveyed that familiarity in his remarks. The memorial included a full church service, something that I think Brian would have really liked. The scattering of the ashes involved just family-all of us huddled together on the dock, at extremely low tide, watching his dust scatter in the wind and water. Amazing that such a big guy is reduced to not much more than a gallon sized bag of ashes and bits of bone after cremation. I scooped a big handful of the gray dust and bone shards to feel him between my fingers for the last time- a welcome relief after all of the words and feelings that had been swirling about all day. The wind took some of the dust into that shallow water and mud and blew some of it onto my pants leg and the dock surface. It felt so good to have a bit of bone in my handful and get to feel something solid. But that is just the way we are, isn't it, holding onto solid forms for as long as we can. I was so glad that we could scatter Brian's ashes exactly where he wanted to be-the very place he most loved in the world. It makes me tear up even now to think about how sweet that was. How it made me feel part of something bigger than myself, than any of us. What a delight to share all of that community and fellowship in Brian's honor. I know that I was not the saddest person there that day, but I had my own special reasons for being sad and touched and fortunate to be there as a LIVING being, given all I have been through with my own cancers. It makes me all the more grateful and pleased to be here.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

I'm pretty sure my Irish ancestors somewhere would be proud of the 10K run we did as a benefit in Asheville this past w-e. Lots of people were dressed up, in lots of green, for the Shamrock run, which proved to be a challenging 6 miler up and over quite a few hills in our area of town. It threatened to rain but held off, giving us a beautiful day to enjoy the views from Sunset Mtn Rd toward downtown and the mtn range west of town. As one woman said to me as we were finally, finally crested the top of the biggest hill, "Well we worked for that view." Yes, we did. Holly and I rewarded ourselves on the way home with some delicious treats from the Sisters McMullen bakery which has just relocated (again) to another spot on Merrimon Ave-our part of town. We knew them when they still made doughnuts (now left to Dunkin D, just not enough profit in those...) and were located just around the corner from us. Now they specialize in cakes and more traditional bakery treats. Just fine by me, as they're all good and yummy.

Wear green today, pick up a shamrock, and spread some good luck today. Happy St Patrick's Day!

A Gaelic Blessing

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the gentle night to you,

Moon and stars pour their healing light on you,
Deep peace of Christ, the light of the world.
(from a stone inscription at the Bald Head Island, NC chapel)

A Wonderful Day So Far

I have been remiss in catching up here lately. As I have said before, I feel a bit sheepish about continuing to post my writing here, now being so far from all of the original reasons to start this thing in the first place. While I will never forget that time of uncertainty and worry over my (then new) diagnosis of leukemia, I have moved on. Sure I get a monthly reminder of all of that seriousness when I have my blood counts done, but the steady, normal counts quickly push away any worries I might have. I would never say that all of this happened for a reason (unless you count weak DNA repair systems) or that I am better off because of it, but I can take pleasure, still, in the simplest things. As my girlfriend was leaving for work this morning, she wished me a good morning. I work the late clinic on Monday nights, a hellishly long 12 hour day that I never look forward to-e.g. I saw 36 patients yesterday. However, my recompense is Tuesday mornings to myself, with only half a work day. So I was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the trees just starting to bud, with daffodils I had planted blooming at their bases, while a myriad of birds sampled our feeders. I was sipping a delicious cup of French Roast coffee and thinking about my run to Ayr Mount, my usual run destination on Tuesdays and Thursdays. As Holly wished me a good morning, I replied that it had already been wonderful so far. Can you imagine how terrific it feels to sit in a warm, sunny spot where you can watch birds, flowers, trees, and drink coffee in a leisurely fashion? Can you imagine getting to do that every week-not having to set an alarm clock or rush out the door to meet your first patient of the day? Honestly, it has been a wonderful day so far...

This past w-e, Holly and I rode the ferry to Bald Head Island to join our friends Marty and Debbie at their new beach house just south of Wilmington. They have a big old place hidden amongst the moss covered oaks that they share with 12 other couples, each of whom gets the house for a week per season (13 couples x 4 weeks/couple =52 weeks). This is the spring week for Marty and Deb, who so graciously allowed 8 of us to join them. We had a terrific w-e there too, running the trails along the beach, visiting the Nature conservancy and Old Baldy lighthouse, enjoying seafood and other meals together (thanks Deb for that fabulous fried shrimp dinner-my favorite!), and watching a few basketball games as a group. As there starts to be some cross pollination between our friends in Asheville and our friends in Durham, Susan and Donna were along for the w-e too. Marty and Deb joined us in Asheville at Thanksgiving last year, and invited Susan and Donna to meet them at the new beach house sometime. So it was really a delight to have so many of our friends from both communities with us to enjoy that special place. I can't wait to see Susan's pictures of the island, being the photojournalist that she is. I'll make do here with a few photos from my little camera, just to commemorate the trip.

Almost March

I realized yesterday that March is next Monday. Perhaps this does not come as a surprise to anyone else, but it did to me. I was doing the yearly physical exam on one of my female patients, going over the preventive things we need to address for her health. I made the comment that when she turns 40, I want to order her mammogram. She pointed out that her 40th birthday is March 1st, this upcoming Monday. Wow! Already! Great news. Somehow, I've been mired in February and winter in my mind-
seems like f-o-r-e-v-e-r.

After my run this morning I was filling the bird feeders, cleaning up the trees that had been blown over by all of the recent snow, and trimming some of the dead stalks from my perennials. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the perennials are gearing up with new green shoots and leaves. I hadn't noticed any of that from my bedroom window, but at ground level, it is quite obvious. Fabulous to see spring just around the corner.

I spent this past w-e in Charleston with my Mom. She had fallen on her face last week, just one more thing for her to deal with during this difficult time. My stepdad hasn't been doing very well in the Rehab facility where they moved him after his latest brain surgery. However, things progressed some this w-e for both of them. My Mom's face is getting better slowly with less swelling and bruising everyday. She can drive again and even walked with me Sunday for exercise (getting her Teresa points as she calls it). And, we were able to get Brian up to sit outside, visit with their dog Dixie, converse with visitors, eat on his own, and walk (assisted) to the bathroom and shower. I am hoping that he has turned the corner and will be able to do more and more as he regains his strength. I know that eventually his brain tumor will come back-it's an aggressive bastard-but my hope is that he can go home before any of that happens.

I was struck by how odd it feels to help dress and bathe and walk with Brian. I had my own hospital days not so long ago with lukewarm showers and hospital food and interminable hours in my own little room. I was weak too, especially after that 7 day course of continuous chemo to get into remission from the leukemia. I too, could barely walk on my own, fatigued even by the act of eating. Amazing to think that without those tough times, I wouldn't be here. Boy am I glad I persevered through that and more to be here today to run through Ayr Mount park as I did this morning, to get to see all of the woodpeckers at my feeders as I write this, and to notice all of the green shoots coming up where I trimmed away the old dead stuff. That, to me, is the perfect morning, as we barrel towards March now.

Fat Tuesday

We attended the Mardi Gras parade held in downtown Asheville this past Sunday before we left for Hillsborough. There was a lot of standing around waiting at the street corner for the fun to start, and many conversations among the spectators about where the route would go. It was not a big deal parade like the one at Christmas, but it was spirited nonetheless. I do think there were more people who turned out to catch a glimpse of the "freaks" and the costumes than there were paraders, but that's okay. Susan took this photo of the dancing girls leading it on. Early February is a little cold for those outfits, but they sure got into the music.

Happy Mardi Gras!

Half the Sorrow, Twice the Joy

This is a bit belated being that yesterday was Valentine's Day. I was more than a little distracted by my Mom's accident and all of the attendant worries and concerns that brought up for me-not just about today and this episode but also for the future. When something like this happens, you realize that a 5 hr drive is not close enough to take care of someone from afar. But you cobble together some plan and hope it works. As my boss says about staying home with her sick kids when her Nanny is sick, " I am only 1 deep," meaning that she is the back up. I think one of my biggest worries for both of my parents is that they will find themselves alone dealing with all of the vagaries that older age throws at you. I read something in a novel recently that I think is quite true-marriage was described as offering half the sorrow and twice the joy. What a sweet way to boil it down. I would add that a committed relationship offers the same thing-I have been lucky enough to have that. My Valentine has shouldered much adversity with me these past few, challenging years. I am so very grateful for that.

Thanks to my gal for halving my sorrow and doubling my joy!

Tag, You're It

It is always amazing to me how differently people handle tough medical issues-not only their own health crises but also those of their loved ones. Being pretty solidly in middle age now, like most of my friends, my time has come too. My stepdad's recent diagnosis has certainly affected my sisters and me, but more from the standpoint of trying to support my Mom. We have been visiting him to help her-translating medical events, driving to the hospital, and trying to disentangle his online banking system for her. Many of my good pals have recently made emergency trips home due to medical issues with one or more of their parents. Well, it's my turn now. Earlier today I got a call from my sister saying that my Mom tripped on a speed bump in a parking lot and fell flat on her face (my nephew Ethan calls that a face plant). Apparently she landed on her nose, cut her face requiring stitches, and injured her knee. Hmmm, it's one thing to do a face plant when you're 8 and sledding down a snowy hill; it's another when you're 68, distracted by your husband's brain cancer and fall on the asphalt. That stuff hurts. All I could think of when my sister called me with the news was "tag you're it." My turn to share in the unexpected health woes of my parents.

You might think I'd be pretty good at it with all of my medical experience. Suffice to say that when it's your parent, you're just the child like everyone else. We are really lucky that my sister was already there visiting with her kids. And we're lucky because one of her oldest friends can be with her this week until I can get there this w-e. I hope that she rests some and lets herself heal. It's been a rough last 6 mos since Brian's diagnosis.
February is often a tough month-it's the longest, short month. Seems like ours is going to be filled with doctors and hospitals and trips to Charleston.

This year we are getting lots of fun snow the mountains, and I really enjoy that. This is a shot of Beaver Lake which is one of my favorite runs near our house.

Happy 70th Pop

As I was running in the woods yesterday, enjoying the serenity of being alone on my favorite mountain, I remembered a card I had made for my Dad when he was in Vietnam. I was in my horse phase and drew him a horse's head with the caption

2 good
2 be
4gotten.

I thought it was a nice sentiment that I still want to convey all these years later. Today my Dad is 70 yrs old, a far cry from the 26 yr old he was when I made the card. Pop (that is what I used to write in my letters then), I hope that you have a really great day and a fabulous year ahead. Happy Birthday!

Snow Days

In the Triangle, we are still digging out from the latest snowstorm. All of the schools were canceled yesterday, and my clinic was closed as well. The secondary roads were and still are pretty much a mess. I went running yesterday morning, dodging cars as we vied for clean asphalt at the edge of the roadways. We had the same beautiful white stuff in Asheville over the w-e, but they did an excellent job of salting the roads BEFORE the snow hit this time (they learned from their mistakes with the recent December storm). In Asheville, we played in the snow and did 2 hikes around town to look at all the trees and houses and mountains with their 8 inch blanket. It was really spectacular when the blue sky rolled in on Sunday before we left to drive back. The interstates were clear, but our neighborhood was pretty icy and still is. I think they are holding the speed skating trials on our loop road here later today-tee hee. Actually, it isn't that bad if you drive slowly. It has been really cool to see so much snow again after our trip to NH to cross country ski. It sort of reminds me of living in New England.

I used the snow day yesterday to check out the new Orange County library. At the end of December, the fine old building near our house closed, and they relocated it to the new official looking county building on Margaret Lane, near the Weaver St Market. I have to say, I will miss our little hillsborough library with its quaint old building and everything/everyone all jammed in together. The new building looks so institutional, and the inside looks, well it could be anywhere. I am sure it is much nicer for the kids to have their own reading room and for the librarians to have their own desks/reference areas, but I will miss the character of the old place. It really did have character, and I am not just saying that because it represents a change. Oh well, all things change... and then you have the iPAD.

Okay, one thing that doesn't change is how much fun I am having on my runs lately - enjoying the invigorating winter air and the long range views one gets this time of year. I hope that all of my pals can get outside to enjoy that fresh sunshine and wiggle their joints a bit.

Waking Up

Holly and I went to Charleston SC last w-e to be with my Mom and visit my stepdad who is still in the hospital. He was moved from the Neuro ICU but remained delirious the entire time that we were there. It has been weighing heavily on us as I knew it would if/when he got worse. Well, we are there. He just hasn't bounced back from his most recent surgery, though my Mom said that he woke up yesterday-could eat, talk, recognize folks, and even stand for a bit. Hard, hard to watch such a big man be dwarfed by this illness and his hospital bed. I guess we all look small when we are sick, can't eat, and just lie in those hospital beds under florescent lights. I hope that he continues to make rapid progress from here and enjoys some more good times before whatever is around the next corner. I'll apologize right here for all of the bruises Brian probably has from me rubbing his sternum this w-e as I tried to get him to wake up and talk to us.

Our trip to NH to cross country ski seems so long ago now (the hospital will do that to you). I did want to show off the kittygirl we brought back. The B&B had all kinds of stuffed bears, cats, and moose situated on the beds for guests to enjoy. We "adopted" this one since it reminded us of our cat, Gracie, with that same beautiful, calico, queenie personality. Here she is hanging out on the couch.

NH Peaks

We love to cross country ski whenever we can take time off to travel and find a snowy locale. It sounds simple enough, but finding snow, even in New England, has been tricky the past few years. We keep trying to get to Bend, Oregon where everyone raves about the snow as well as the town. But Oregon is a far piece from NC, and we just don't seem to be able to make it happen. This year I wanted to xc ski over the MLK holiday and came across the website for Jackson NH, a whole town devoted to cross country skiing. They have a touring association in town as well as a very helpful website. We stayed at an Inn I found on their website (the Inn at Ellis River). The Innkeepers served a terrific breakfast and were just nice, nice people.

We spent the 1st day skiing at Bretton Woods,west of Mt Washington-enjoying our granola bars and peanuts right alongside all of those hearty New Englanders with their pb&j sandwiches. I'm pretty sure we could cure the obesity epidemic if we could get more people out skiing with all of those frugal Yankees who show up in their old tights, wool sweaters, bike gear, and boots from the 70's-whether they fit or not. I have never seen so many members of the same family tackle a sport at once, then sit down to granola, sandwiches and a thermos of coffee only to march back out to do it all again. It's pretty cool really. I, of course, was happy just to get my heart rate up, see so many peaks covered with snow, and give my slider-glider muscles a real workout.

We skied the Great Glen trails just east of Mt. Washington on the 2nd day. Their beginner trails were a little more advanced beginner for us as we tried to remember the intricacies of slowing down and turning all at the same time. It's tough when your last lesson was 3 years ago, but it did come back. Fortunately we got some spectacular views of the Presidential mountain range in the morning because the clouds moved in later in the afternoon obscuring the peaks altogether. Neither our car nor our bodies climbed Mt Washington, but I'd love to go back for that someday. One interesting variation on the famous "This car climbed Mt Washington" bumper sticker was a car with one that read "The owner of this car RAN Mt Washington." Now that is one tough feat-almost 5000 ft of up in just under 8 miles. Can you imagine? I'd love to do that race someday...

Exeter Reunion

Holly and I made good use of the MLK holiday to escape up north for a bit of cross country skiing. We flew into Boston and drove north to the White Mtns in New Hampshire. On the way, we visited Exeter, the boarding school I attended for 3 years of high school. We traipsed around campus from my old dorm to the field house and on to the main part of campus. I can't remember the last time I was there for a visit, probably ten yrs ago or more. The science center, where I took many classes and taught as an intern after college, has relocated across the street to an even larger facility. Other than that, things were pretty much the same. We even managed to find my old soccer team photo in the field house.

I added a few photos here, just for old times sake.

Not So Great This Time

I find that if it takes me a while to get back to writing here, either I have been too busy (good times rolling) or I am dealing with something. This time, it's the latter. My Stepdad had to have more brain surgery this week, and I have been very distracted with hopes and worries for him and my Mom. We learned at Christmas that his tumor had recurred-it just kept marching through his head despite 6 weeks of chemo & radiation after surgery. He went in for more surgery Wednesday, getting 5 1/2 hours of Dr. Frankel's time and expertise in the Operating Room. Unfortunately, he developed a bleed Thursday afternoon and needed more surgery to stop the bleeding. Now they have him in the ICU, in a coma, to keep him calm and sedated. Of course, I have been worried for him and for my Mom who has had to wait patiently through each of these surgeries. Obviously, none of us can predict or control the future. But I am hoping and praying for the best outcome with no suffering.

Here's a photo of the old bald guy at Christmas, doing his Soduko.

New Year's Day Good Luck Pig

Supposedly there is a custom with the chinese of giving little pig ornaments as good luck. I used to buy lots of them and give them to friends as gifts, but I can never find them anymore at the toy stores. So this is my rendition of the Good Luck pig for all of you. Luella's BBQ here in Asheville put a lit up pig on their rooftop for the holidays, adorned with a santa cap and lights. I've been meaning to photograph it since I first noticed the little guy (seems a bit much to call this photography but whatever...). This being New Year's Day, and being up to see the sunrise, and to welcome in the year my own way, here it is.

We had a fun New Year's Eve with dinner at the new, cool, cheap eat called Chai Pani that serves street Indian food (okra fries, I'm not kidding) followed by a yummy desert of s'mores and coffee at Cafe Posana just as the city's fireworks were going off one street over, and then the Swayback sisters' concert in Black Mountain at the new acoustic music club White Horse Black Mountain. Made it home in time to wish each other a Happy New Year on our own.

Today we are doing the traditional New Year's Day hike with friends (one year I swear Susan took us to Penn to start the hike, but I believe we're only going to Brevard and the Pisgah Area this time, tee hee) followed by a lasagne potluck at Jan's house. Great way to start the year off right, and we still have 2 more days to enjoy being off.

So whatever you wish for in 2010, here's your Good Luck Pig.