Our JennEric Life

Jul

2010

Not me, the yard

Exhibit A: Our scalped backyard

While not a barefoot bastion of St Augustine glory, it was at least green & all the bare spots were beginning to fill in.

I was happy because it meant less mud to be tracked in by the Mooch the next time it rained.

But our custodian had other plans this morning.

Actually, I think he got completely distracted or overcome by the 95% humidity while trying to weed-eat, yes weed-eat, our backyard at 0730 this morning.

I heard the noise. I knew he was out there. But did I look?

No.

I learned the hard way my first summer here that the custodian will come into the backyard at ungodly early hours. And when you’ve just woken, come downstairs in your hubby’s t-shirt & nothing else to throw open the curtains & face the day…let’s just say it can be a little embarrassing.

But look! He nearly took out the whole freakin’ yard. It’s all down to the dirt which will mean mud puddle city for Moo.

The kicker is that’s how he left it.

Yep – I think he finally looked up to see his handiwork & decided to get the hell out of Dodge.

I’m just hoping he doesn’t come back tomorrow to finish killing off our yard.

Eric took one look & said, “Hey – when did we get a relief map in our backyard?”

But the more I look at it, the more it looks like they’re putting a Putt-Putt in our backyard. We just need little flags & the spinning windmill.

Exhibit B: Our whacked-off fence line

Because having a backyard is a rarity around here, we’ve all been making the most of it: growing tomatoes, peppers, squash, pumpkins, etc.

And the running joke has been, “If it grows on my side of the fence, it’s mine.”

So I was really looking forward to the free pumpkin or two I was gonna get from Cynthia. ; )

The vine had already started making it’s way down my side of the fence with a couple of nice big blossoms.

But look at it! Chopped! Straddling the tops of the bushes.

Since then I’ve been considering international pumpkin theft, but seeing as how I’d be snatching it from an MP’s backyard…I better be a) very sneaky, b) very lucky or c) very stupid to attempt a great pumpkin heist.

MP – Military Police: That would be the very nice man with the very big gun that lives next door.

Exhibit C: Our beheaded apricot tree

One day a few weeks back I walked out into the yard to discover our lovely shade tree had been butchered for no apparent reason.

I didn’t ask them to do it. It wasn’t crowding any power lines. And it was great at obscuring the view of the screaming kids in the day care across the field.

There was no warning – no convening court to determine it’s fate…he just linched it in broad daylight.

[sigh]

Just when I was beginning to enjoy our backyard.

Yeah, I know I need to do something about the headaches but I’m not exactly sure what.

Trying to get home & get seen by a doctor or two there is a lot of money & a ton of logistics.

If I go outside the Army network I’ll be paying full price out of pocket. And trying to get seen by a different Army doc when I’m not stationed there…believe me, it’s a nightmare. Been there, done that.

I’m always told I have to go see my primary care doctor because they can’t even attempt to input me into their system.

Plus, I always jokingly-but-not-really-jokingly tell Eric if I was to go back home for a visit I’m not sure I could get back on that airplane when the time came to head back.

And maybe I’m just looking at things fatalistically, but really…what is any doctor going to do about 8 lesions in my head?

They won’t operate (which I don’t want anyway, knock-on-wood). They can’t prescribe any medication to make them go away. They can’t even figure out what it is I have in the first place.

It’s just a headache. It’s not debilitating – it’s just annoying as Hell.

But I promise to think on it some more.

Category: Footnotes, Jennifer, Life in Korea, Our House, The Scare 3 Comments

Jul

2010

Hanging Out

and feeling pretty green

jennifer

I’m still here. I’ve been hanging out with our backyard frog, Jeremiah, trying to relax.

The headaches are coming daily now & have been intensifying.

They knock me out leaving me with little motivation to do much of anything, I’m afraid.

I left a message for the new Neurologist only to discover he’s still in-processing.

In-processing:Paperwork, briefings, getting settled into your new home, settled into your new base, getting issued new gear or equipment. And when coming to Korea it can last a few weeks as you also learn about black marketing, prostitution, human trafficking, ration cards, SOFA rules, and all the other do’s & don’ts.

So instead I got a call back from the Internal Medicine doctor letting me know that he can’t help me & that I should be able to contact the new doctor sometime mid-August.

Mid-August.

When you factor in the backlog of patients building up to see him, I’m guessing I’ll probably get in around October.

Is there anything any doctor, Neurologist or otherwise, can do at the moment?…No.

The only information I’ll be getting from the new doc is a second opinion & a final judgement on my last MRI.

I was given a prescription for pain meds from the last doc before he left. But the drug & the dosage are contra-indicated with my blood pressure meds.

Did you need to know all that?…No.

It just means if I take it, I better be prepared to not go anywhere, not do anything & not eat anything. It makes me nauseous, jittery & knocks me out something fierce – wiping out my whole day.

So I’ve been resting a lot, sleeping a lot - trying to find ways to decompress & watching what I eat…hoping to stave off the headaches & not take the meds.

Category: Jennifer, Our House, The Scare 5 Comments

Jul

2010

No, I’m Not Crying

Back to the 4th of July story

jennifer

Korea is called the Land of the Morning Calm. And there’s a saying here among the American rank, file & families…the Land of Not Quite Right.

That whole ‘close, but no cigar’ bit.

Trying to recreate the American experience, take the 4th of July for example, on foreign soil can never be quite right though.

It’s true. But it’s also true of any culture transplanted into another one.

Do you think your town could pull off an authentic German Ocktoberfest to impress a Berliner? Would you expect China to know how to throw a rodeo that would make a cowboy proud? Or Egypt to replicate your grandmother’s banana pudding?…Shoot – do you think Virginia Tex-Mex restaurants taste anything like real Tex-Mex? Or that I could make kimchi so delicious that the Lumber Barons would beg for the recipe?

I’ll give you a hint – NO!

Oh, everyone could get close (in varying degrees) but it wouldn’t be quite right.

And that’s the only way to describe our 4th of July this year – not quite right.

Homesickness is a powerful thing. Whether you’re stationed in South Carolina missing Arizona, or in South Korea missing Texas. It comes in cycles (as I’ve said before) and it can be the worst during American holidays.

It’s worse because, believe it or not, you have built-in expectations of what the holiday should look like, feel like, smell & taste like. And yes, every American’s expectations are slightly different – but when you boil it all down, I would bet you they’re all the same.

But back to the story at hand…

It was hot. Sticky hot. There were sticky hot melting people as far as the eye could see.

And as the sun went down & the evening show was about to start it finally began to cool a bit…and then things began to drift a little “not quite right”.

From out of the blue – with no announcement whatsoever, in English or Hangul thank-you-very-much - the Korean orchestra began playing the American national anthem.

Military personnel & families popped up left & right as we were all caught off guard…hurrying to stand at attention or put their hand over their hearts. While the Koreans sitting through out the field & bleachers remained in their seats, whispering to one another, wondering if they should stand up, too. It was awkward…for everyone.

But that’s when it hit me.

I was standing up…and they were sitting down.

There was just something about standing up to be counted among the Americans when standing on foreign soil.

And in that act of standing up I felt an overwhelming flood of emotion.

Home. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be home right now & I was umpteen thousand miles away. And as all those thoughts raced through my head I realized two things: no one was singing (granted, the guys can’t while at attention) & that the lack of voices made it seem so much more hollow.

And a tear or two rolled down my cheek. I tried to quickly wipe it away, but nope…Eric caught me.

[damn]

So here’s a hint for the guys: Sometimes us girls just want to shed a tear without it being seen…without it being pointed out. It’s usually because we know our emotions are getting the best of us & we don’t want to be caught looking silly – crying over the odd thing here or there.

So if you catch us…ok, ok, if you catch me…do me a favor. Don’t make a big deal of it. Don’t ask me to explain why there are tears rolling down my face. Just move on. The explaining is only going to make me cry more.

So he & I went through the whole exchange:

Eric: ‘Are you crying?’

Jenn: ‘No’

Eric: ‘Yes, you’re crying’

Jenn: ‘Ok, I’m crying’

Eric: ‘But why are you crying?’

[damn it]

Jenn: ‘I’m just homesick.’

Thankfully the traditional Korean music & drummers began to play & I didn’t have to continue explaining. I’ve already showed you clips of both groups. They were really great & they gave me a chance to redirect my thoughts away from home.

Shortly afterwards the General got up to say a few words & announce that due to an expected inbound storm they were going to have to change the rest of the night’s line up.

The orchestra would play the 1812 Overture first, the fireworks would follow(really wish it could’ve been timed together, but oh well) & afterwards the orchestra would continue with the rest of their scheduled performance.

I held my breath…yes, I know it’s silly. I haven’t heard the overture live in several years & this was the moment…the moment I was going to commit to memory to stave off homesickness.