[Random pics of Mr. Chong's slums - This is Red. He always smiles when he sees me.]

Why is it whenever I do have a accident it’s in the most absurd way possible? It’s never some exciting, blood-pumping, adrenalin-filled tale of daring adventure.

Nope.

It’s things like “the dog hit me“. Remember that lovely chestnut?

Well, this time around I have no one to blame but myself…ok, me and the car.

[But he's never too sure about Maggie]

It was early Sunday afternoon & I was a woman on a mission. I had a list; a list of things like – take out the trash, go to the commissary, check the mail room, hit the PX.

Since I only have the car on the weekends it means I have to pile everything I need to do up & knock it out all in one big run. And it usually takes up a good half the day – a quarter of my weekend!

So as you can imagine, I tend to move a little fast hoping to beat my record time for most amount of chores done on any given Saturday, in this case Sunday.

[This is Momma-Dog. She couldn't care one way or the other.]

I snatched up the purse, grabbed the keys & made a bee-line for the car. Since I was also throwing away a few cardboard boxes, I went to open the trunk first.

This is where I get to say that we own a PT Cruiser. A lovely little car that navigates the Korean roads just fine & let me tell you, it’s amazing how much crap I can cram in that thing. Especially when we were moving from Virginia to Oklahoma. I can pack that sucker tight!

When the car was new & you wanted to lift the tail gate, all you had to do was open the latch. The hydraulics would automatically push the tail gate up to it’s full & upright position, so you didn’t have to give it a second thought.

[The chicken coop kittens think if they stand perfectly still I won't see them.]

But over the years it doesn’t really push itself up all the way anymore. Sometimes it will go three-quarters of the way, sometimes only half.

And this past Sunday it only went up half.

The problem with this is that while it was coming up halfway, I was coming down full-throttle.

*** Bang! ***

Massive smack to the head…right on the top of my head.

I didn’t knock me out. I didn’t swagger or stumble over my feet.

[Mercucio never pays attention - he's always stalking chickens. Why Mercucio?...no reason. Just a nod to Shakespeare.]

I think something along the lines of “FUDGE IT!” came out of my mouth. But other than the immediate throbbing that seemed to pass fairly quickly, I assumed I was just fine. An idiot, yes – but just fine.

I raced onto post, started off at the PX & roughly 30 minutes later at the commissary I noticed something was wrong.

It felt like I was falling forward on legs that seemed to either be drunk or moving through mud – maybe both. I dismissed it at first until the sensation just kept going.

[And then there's Kitler - surveying his domain while plotting government take-overs]

So I used what idiot brain-cell-skills I had left to finish the shopping & head home…walking in the door to tell Eric,

“Ok, this is where I need to tell you I’ve hit my head really hard.”

[blink...vacant stare...blink]

(Ok, well that didn’t work.)

Maybe it’s because I’m not the stereotypical hysterical woman. Maybe it’s because from all outward appearances I seemed perfectly fine. Maybe it’s because I seem to have an unusally high tolerance for pain.

No clue.

At this point there’s been no let up in the symptoms that first appeared in the commissary & I’m beginning to really worry. I sat down on the couch & weighed my options:

1. Take my happy butt to the TMC (troop medical center) which can really only handle bandaids or stitches, prescribing air & IV fluids instead of meds. Or…

2. Get Eric to drive me to the local Korean hospital (Good Morning Hospital – yeah, no joke on that one) & roll the dice that they would actually understand what I was saying.

The drawback to option 2 is that Koreans tend to have a habit of running every test, every diagnostic under the sun so that they can bill the good ol’ US of A for every penny. And if they did a brain scan….guess what they’d find?

[And last but not least, the heart-breaker Gorgeous Pup. Pup's actually on the far, far side of the slums although you can't tell because my camera's got rockin' zoom skills. So he can never really tell I'm talking to him. I so want to steal this dog.]

Yeah. That would only have them running more tests.

So it became apparent that my only legitimate option was to hop the bus to Yongsan, up to the 121 hospital where they already have all those lovely black & white images on file.

At this point it’s almost 3pm & it’s raining gang-busters. Driving to Seoul on the weekend is crazy enough, but add in rain?…ppfffhhhttt. Forget it. The bus would get me there quicker with less stress anyway.

So I had Eric take me to the on post bus station, dropped down my 6200 won for the 2 hour trip up there & then hopped a taxi over to the ER.

************

Since this story’s getting a little longer than I anticipated, I’m gonna stop here. Nobody likes to read that much at one time anyway. So I’ll pick-up again tomorrow.

Happy Friday!

[the Lumber Barons binding cabbages close to harvest time]

It seems as if once or twice a day I’m getting emails from home asking about the tensions with the North, my mom’s current condition…as well as my own.

So here’s what I can tell you. Let’s start with mom.

[do you see the new puppy at the Chong's?]

My mom’s surgery was a success. She had a partial right hip replacement & is now at a rehab facility pestering nurses left & right with her stubbornness. I get updates from my sister (since there’s no phone in her room) to let me know how her progress is going.

And everything seems to be going as well as can be expected for someone with her previous disabilities. She’s up & walking a few steps on her own and is very determined to leave rehab with the use of a single-tip cane…not a wheelchair. Although my sister & I aren’t too thrilled with the single-tip cane idea and are working it.

I’ve booked a ticket home & leave on the 14th. Three weeks at home and I’ve got to tell you I’m a bit nervous about it.

[they've got two of those fat little puddles]

Oh, not for the reasons you’re thinking…I’m more nervous about getting drawn back into my old American lifestyle. I can’t afford to do that while I’m there. It doesn’t sound like it should be a big deal, but believe me…I’ve already paid the sticker price on adjusting to life in Korea and I don’t want to have to pay it again.

So I’m just feeling very cautious. I always joked to Eric that if I ever went home to visit that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get back on that plane.

[some women ooh & ahh over babies; I squeal over puddles (puppies) & piddles (kittens)]

The night of the attack I got more “don’t-panic-everything’s-going-to-be-fine” emails than you can shake a stick at. Emails from the State Department, emails from command, emails from the FRG - even an email from General Sharp rolled out to everyone.

[in fact, I channel Agnes]

And while communication is great (don’t get me wrong) it was rather funny, but almost unnerving to think ‘why is everyone telling me to be calm?’ You start to worry…‘is there something I should be worried about that you’re not telling me?’

*Side Note: If you ever travel out of country…Korea, France or Taiwan, makes no difference…be sure to register with the US State Department on their website. Your name, email & cell phone will be put on their list of people to inform and people to find should a horrible tsunami hit or a terrorist attack occur. And leave a copy of your passport with friends or family back home. Just a tip.

But yes, everything is fine.

[IT'S SO FLUFFY!]

We’re all doing our due diligence in making sure our NEO kits are put together, listening to AFN, surfing news sites…all that preparatory stuff should something actually happen.

NEO Kit - Non-Combatant Evacuation Operations Kit: The “kit” is made up of three parts, and no – it’s not classified.

1) A suitcase, no more than 66 lbs, containing seasonal clothing, cash, food & water for 3 days, battery operated radio, flashlight & first aid kit.

2 ) A notebook holding every piece of legal paperwork to your name: marriage certificate, power of attorney, car titles, shot records, household goods inventory, etc. – as well as government paperwork to process us out of the country…again, should something actually happen.

3) A gas mask.

NEO also covers pets. Any animal under 25 lbs will travel with you. Animals over 25 lbs are shipped at a later time. So yes…picture me, my bag, Kitten in a carrier & Moo in her 4′ x 3′ x 4′ carrier huffin’ it to post should they actually “flip the switch” and ship us out of the country. Needless to say, it’s gonna take a while.

[and if you haven't seen Despicable Me, here's what I'm talking about]

As for me & the ‘some-ting in my brain’, I’m continuing to keep track of the days that I have headaches, writing down what I think it was that triggered them, that sort of thing.

So far the triggers have been sudden drops in temperature, certain sounds, if I’m outside when the sun is low on the horizon (the light gets me) and trying to hunt a good book to read at the library (turning my head sideways to read the titles does a real number on me).

I get 1 – 3 headaches a week and they can last up to a day & a half. I’m also due for my next MRI, but with the trip home to help my mom it’ll have to wait until I get back.

I had thought about trying to get in to see someone while I was home, but the odds of getting in to see a neurologist in less than 3 weeks don’t seem very good.

So that’s the news from this side of the world.

What’s going on with you?

The other day I realized I haven’t had a good story to tell you in a while. I tried to figure out why…there arethings happening here left, right & ridiculous…I just have no interest in sharing them. Nothing’s really jumping out at me to talk about.

There are so many little things on my mind…too many little distractions pulling me every which way but up…that I can’t seem to think my way through a good story.

So if you’ll indulge me, I’m going to dump it all out & hopefully start with a clean slate.

So stand back…I don’t want to get any of this on you…I’m gonna be slingin’ odd, random muck left & right.

Random Thought #1

I can’t get this picture out of my mind.

Or this one.

The Chong’s (neighbors of the Lumber Barons) have been buying up new dogs…and I think they’re eating them.

It haunts me.

Random Thought #2

Peabody, the remaining half of Peabody & Squatty, who has been visiting our house for days has been put back on his chain.

Nevermind that the dog is now actually housebroken or that he’s far too thin to be out in weather that’s now hitting 36 degrees at night or the fact that he’s got the sweetest spirit. Nope. They don’t care enough to name him…so why should they care that I’ve been able to train him to be a loving family pet?

Do you realize this dog would not let me get my hand 2 feet from him when they first started getting out?!

Now he loves to give hugs…wants to be petted all the time.

I miss him.

Random Thought #3

Eric beat me at Time Crisis while we were up in Seoul.

HE….BEAT….ME!

While he could always whoop me on every other game, I always ruled on Time Crisis. Pulling off amazing head shots & weapons bonuses, I always won.

I blame the pink guns.

Honestly – who puts pink guns on a shoot-’em-up game in the middle of a US Army base?

I’m getting old.

Random Thought #4

My birthday is coming up. Number 40.

The plans I put in place have fallen apart. The back-up plans I put in place have fallen apart. And the back-up, back-up plan has fallen apart, too.

I’m going to be home alone, making my own birthday cake.

Did I ever show you my attempt at lava cakes from last year?…

Oh sure…they look pretty. But you’re supposed to be able to flip it upside down, gently lift it out of the ramekin & have this perfect little molten-centered cake.

Yeah. Not so much.

Random Thought #5

Eric & I want to get to Germany after our tour in Korea is done. His family migrated from Germany back in the mid 1700′s. So having the chance to live there means a lot to us both.

But we discovered this past week that Germany has passed a ‘dangerous dog ordinance’ and Maggie’s considered a level 2 dangerous dog.

She could come…but she’d have to be temperament tested by German officials.

If she passes, she’d be certified as a non-agressive dog with papers to prove it. If she fails….well, I would either go back home to the States while Eric stays in Germany or they could possibly put Maggie down & we’d have no say-so.

Random Thought #6

I got accepted into the Master Resiliency Training program. I start classes Monday & while I’m not really so nervous about it…I can’t get a thought out of the back of my mind.

While Eric & my neighbor support me, not everyone else in my life does.

They think I’m going to be the 500 lb woman running the weight loss clinic.

[ok, to be fair....my words, not their's]

But definitely not the most inspiring choice in their view.

Just when I’ve finally found something that calls out to me – even if only marginally – they are right there to say, ‘no – I don’t think that’s such a good idea for you’. And I’m back at square one…what am I going to be when I grow up?

Random Thought #7

I should never blog at night.

So with that said, I’m heading off to bed. I still owe a couple of people emails…I’m sorry to take so long. But I promise I haven’t forgotten you.

Remember these two?…

Squatty & Peabody.

Well, after months of constant escapes, night after night of barking & probably pure frustration, the owners have given Squatty away to another family.

I’m not sure who…but it’s bound to be a better family than the one he had. But I still miss the Short-Squat and I’m not the only one.

Peabody is having a hard time transitioning.

The first night alone he howled & howled – confused, wondering where Squatty was.

The next day, as he continued to howl, I slipped into their backyard to find him tied-up to his dog house – a first.

He wasn’t tangled up, he had food & water…but nothing – absolutely nothing to keep him busy or to play with. The pup’s still not a year old and going from having basically free-reign of the place to stark abandonment has been quite a shock.

So Peabody has been learning the joys of pig sticks & learning how to live without his litter mate – his pushy little brother, Squatty.

If you’ve been reading the blog for a while now – or if you were so bored you read through the entire archives – you’ll remember him.

My black dog.

It was a year ago today that Maggie & I stumbled upon him during our walk. He was guarding a new construction site.

He was rail thin, more scared than scary & very lonely. He had no food bowl, no water bowl & seemingly no one around who gave a damn about him. But I couldn’t turn my back on him. He was beautiful. Come rain or shine, snow or mud I made the nightly trek out to him to give him a full bowl of food & fresh water.

At first, every night was the same….scarfing down the food as fast as I could put it in the bowl. I actually worried that he was eating too much too quickly. I didn’t want to make him worse.

But overtime he began to slow down. He was no longer starving & his body began to fill out.

We worked on manners, we played as much as you can together on a 4′ chain, he mastered the sit & he began to lean into me – a doggie hug – when it was time for me to go back home.

I loved him.

I wanted him.

But I was tortured over the thought of having two big dogs with another 6+ years minimum of Army life. Getting Moo here had been expensive enough…multiply it by two & we just couldn’t afford it.

We tried finding an owner, but found none. Only to stumble upon a man one day who claimed to own him, but spoke little English & had as much regard for him as his car alarm.

Days turned into weeks - weeks turned into months. He got to the point that he didn’t want to eat all the food I put out. He would always have some left over & I would try to adjust the amount for the next time around.

When it turned to winter I broke up the ice chunk his water bowl became & I shoved straw into his house. We experimented with blankets (which he would destroy the next morning out of boredom) & eventually used scrap plywood from the construction site to block the wind and rain as best I could.

And then one day he was gone.

I was beyond distraught.

He was just gone.

Gone off to another construction site to be abandoned again.

That much of the story I had shared already. What I didn’t share was how his disappearance came about & how it still haunts me to this day.

In the 171 days that I took care of the black dog, there were only 2 that I faltered on my duty. Two nights that I didn’t go out to feed him, see him.

March 5th
The day I learned there were lesions in my brain. The day the tech told me that the ‘some-ting in my brain’ was multiple sclerosis. The day I went into total shock & damage control – terrified of how I would tell my husband who grew up watching his mother suffer & succumb to MS that I had now had the same disease.

Of course I didn’t tell him – not at the time at least. I told him about the lesions obviously but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the initial, off-the-cuff diagnosis. I kept telling myself that the tech could be wrong, that the doctor should be the one to make that call. I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t…I wouldn’t. 

There was no way I would share that unknown burden with him. I loved him too much to make him suffer like that. Things were going to be bad enough if indeed it was MS & he deserved to live the next 7 days without that fear…and to be told by the doctor who could answer his immediate questions.

Anyway…I spent that night with my head spinning. I was scared. I was in shock. And all I could think of is how much I wanted to crawl in bed & sleep.

That was the first night I didn’t feed my black dog.

March 26th
The day of my lumbar puncture.

The doctor still hadn’t been able to rule out MS or any of the other possibilities. By this time Eric was already well aware of what all those possibilities were. We went through the motions of life, numb in the unknown & to say I wasn’t looking forward to the procedure would be an understatement.

Without going into all the in’s & out’s, the long & short of it is that that day I took the bus to Yongsan on my own. Still not exactly sure why. Maybe I didn’t want to keep  feeling like a burden to Eric. Maybe I wanted to face this on my own.

Or maybe I just didn’t want Eric to see me in pain…after all, the boy’s pretty big & I wasn’t sure if he could sit there & watch me in pain without taking a swing at the doctor. (Not that he would…I think.) But maybe it was because I knew I wouldn’t be able to be strong enough & tough it out if he was there. It would’ve been all too easy to let down my guard & cry if he was watching me.

Anyway…yes, I rode the bus. The bumpy, jumpy, stop quick & go fast, incredibly-crowded wonder bus. Two hours up. Two hours down. Needless to say, that wasn’t necessarily the best choice of transportation for someone who just had the lumbar puncture from hell. But what can I say…I’m stubborn. Deal with it.

But I didn’t feed my black dog that night. I got home…in incredible pain (mostly from my own making) and once again wanted to crawl in bed & sleep. My drug of choice.

Each time I felt incredibly guilty for not going that night to feed him, to play with him. I wasn’t worried for his hunger…he was still leaving left-overs in his bowl. I felt guilty for leaving him alone – without interaction. I knew I would have to make up for it by spending more time with him than usual the next night.

And the next night, the 27th, as I pulled down the dark road the headlights beamed into a blank spot.

He was gone.

Everything was gone.

The dog house, the make-shift food bowl, the water bowl…everything.

Just gone.

And the guilt of not seeing him the night before washed over & burned right through me. I hadn’t fed him last night. I hadn’t played with him last night.

He was there, but I didn’t come.