Last Friday, my Dad became very dizzy and ill. His blood pressure dropped, he broke out into a cold sweat and slept heavily for several hours. These symptoms occurred again on Sunday night but much more severe. His blood pressure spiked and he could not regain his balance, his speech slurred, and the violent vomiting did not relent. He was transported in an ambulance to Mary Washington Hospital where they stabilized him and ran every test. (MRI, MRA, EKG, Doppler, blood, urine, xray, etc) The radiologist saw evidence of several small strokes at the base of the skull. There was no visible damage from the stroke. The Neurologist recommended that my Dad be transferred to the University of Virginia Hospital in Charlottesville for surgery. He was transported there Monday night. My brother Mike flew in from Minnesota and he and my Mom drove down to UVA on Tuesday. They all met with the surgeon who recommended that my Dad undergo basilar arterial angioplasty stint surgery. The blood vessel at the base of my Dad’s skull is partially blocked and causes the minor strokes that he has been having intermittently over the course of the last 10 years. A little over 10 years ago, he was told that there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. The doctors at UVA have been performing this surgery for years and a few years ago, the technology for the balloons and stints advanced to improve the outcome. The Doctor who will be operating on my Dad performs this surgery approximately 5 times a month. At the outset of all this, my Dad just wanted to go home. He has since come to accept that God placed him here, so this problem could finally be diagnosed correctly and surgery could help alleviate it. He will be operated on at 0800 Thursday 8 November. The surgery will take 1 1/2 - 2 hours and he will be in the ICU for several hours afterwards. He will stay in the Hospital overnight and if there are no complications, he may be released back to my house on Friday. As my Mom sat with my Dad throughout the first night in the hospital, she was reading about Lazarus. “This sickness is not onto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” John 11:4 I do glorify the Lord through this. Our move to Virginia has not only blessed the children and I, it has now blessed my Father. Here in Virginia, my Dad and my Mom found answers and help that they have been seeking for years. The Lord God has also been glorified through my church. I am ever grateful to belong to a terrific body of Christ that truly does “love one another deeply from the heart.” I am also grateful to have Christian neighbors who have been an example of the Proverb, “Better is a neighbor nearby than a brother far away.” Proverbs 27:10. So, please pray for my Dad and praise our God who prepares the way, walks beside, and in the midst of trial gives us peace. “”Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God: and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7
On Saturday, my Dad and I ventured to the dump. Having grown up in the sticks, the boondocks, the middle of nowhere, going to the dump was a part of life when I was a kid. When I left home, I was amazed to discover that most people did not have a well, a septic system that froze in the winter, a wood stove to heat the house, and a plug sticking out of the front of their car. When Dale and I purchased our first car, I asked him where the plug was and insisted that we had to get a car with an engine block heater. He not so kindly informed me that I was from the backwoods. Now that I live in a more civilized place, there are still a few things that fill me with gratitude. I am always grateful that I can wheel my garbage can (rubbish bin) to the end of my driveway and someone will come by and take my garbage to the dump for me. A trip to the dump was not exactly a pleasant experience when I was growing up. Our dump adventure was brought about by Stafford County Hazardous Waste Disposal Day. The previous owner of the house had left me 28 years worth of paint cans, deck wash, gas cans, turpentine, mineral spirits, oil, etc. I had piled it up in the garage and kept watch for the day Stafford County would finally allow me to get rid of it. Their notification informed me that people trained to dispose of hazardous waste would remove the items from my car, and that I must have proof that I was a Stafford County resident. I had my drivers license ready and was expecting workers in full hazmat gear. I was waved right in and a guy wearing a clear plastic garbage bag over his clothes and garden gloves started removing paint cans. It wasn’t quite as dramatic as expected. Next, we drove up to dispose of an old dehumidifier. The guy instructed us to go to bin #2. There were massive bins placed below the different numbered parking spots. Dad picked up the dehumidifier and tossed it in. Someone else had thrown in a water heater. There were bins to throw refrigerators in and bins to throw tires in. I stood there thinking, “Michael Thompson would love this place. He would drive around picking up junk, just so he could toss it into a giant bin and watch it smash.” I was a bit embarrased to be driving a minivan. In rural America, you take your trash to the dump in a pickup truck (your rubbish to the tip in a ute) For a long time, I saw nothing but pickup trucks. Eventually, I saw a few people like me driving cars and vans, but we all looked out of place. I know when Dale returns he’ll refuse to go to the dump unless I let him buy a pickup truck. Afterall, you can’t go to the dump on a motorcycle. I’ll probably have to make the drive myself with Gabe for company. Gabe wouldn’t care about the mode of transportation as long as he could go to the dump too. On the way home from the dump, we stopped at Wawa, a convenience store, (Servo). The Wawa is the most popular place in Stafford. It is always busy. People here love the Wawa. When we were in Australia, Zeke started calling a girl from church Wawa, so whenever I go there I always think of Tarooshi. (I probably didn’t spell that right.) The Wawa has 20 different coffee pots, someone who will make you a sandwich, an ATM with no surcharge, fresh donuts, gas (petrol) for your car, and most anything else you could want. When giving directions in Stafford, you must include a reference to Wawa. For example, “Turn left at the Wawa.” “Just past the Wawa.” “You know where the Wawa is, right?”" I learned quickly, that if I was going to fit in, I needed to begin to love the Wawa. Dad got a decaf coffee in a paper cup (No fruh fruh Starbucks Latte for him) and a box of donuts for us to eat. It’s always important to celebrate a successful trip to the dump.
The entire time I resided in Australia, I was on the lookout for snakes. Australians are very fond of their venomous snakes. Abby and Gabe were the only family members to have a close encounter with a snake while we were there. We went to Phillip Island south of Melbourne and took a walk around a koala park while waiting to see the penguin parade that night. We were looking up in the trees at the koalas and not watching the path. Abby and Gabe were leading the way when Abby almost stepped on a giant black snake. The snake jumped straight up in the air 4 feet. Abby screamed and she and Gabe high tailed it back to us. The snake then escaped into the bush. Abby was the subject of much teasing after that. So, she was glad to witness what a ninny her mother was tonight. I was in the kitchen and turned around to see a small dark snake about 10 inches long and as wide around as a pencil slithering across the floor. I certainly had not expected snake encounters in Virginia, especially not in my house. I yelled, “SNAKE!”, and all the kids came to see. I decided to use the whisk broom to sweep the snake up and the dustpan to transport it out of the house. The snake was moving pretty quickly and was a bit hard to sweep into the dustpan. I finally got it and started moving towards the door. Just then, the snake decided to climb up the handle of the dustpan towards my hand. At this point, I screamed and dropped the pan back on the floor. Zeke was now crying hysterically, Abby was trying to comfort him, and Josiah was “back a safe distance” as he justified later. Only Gabe was standing at the ready to continue snake removal operation. Most likely because I stunned it, the snake got really still, so I swept him back into the dustpan and left it on the floor a few seconds. He didn’t move, so I told Gabe to hold open the door for me. After watching me throw a snake, Gabe decided it would be wiser to use the door stop then hold it open for his unpredictable mother. The snake was safely transported outside where everyone could comfortably look at it. It stuck it’s tongue out at us a few times which Zeke found quite amusing. Josiah googled snake pictures until we discovered it was a non venomous yellow bellied water snake. I pushed it off into the grass and am sincerely hoping it does not come back to visit.
I have only 1 wakeup left here at Ft Benning. Tomorrow morning, I will begin my journey on a military chartered aircraft on its way to Kuwait. I’ll probably have a couple of days of processing in Kuwait before continuing on to Iraq, but we won’t know that for sure until we get there!
This morning, we had formation to draw weapons for the range at 0630. At least that’s when formation was scheduled. At about 0640, the NCOIC announced that we were waiting for the armourer to arrive to open the Arms Room. As I said before, some things in the Army never change!
We eventually got our weapons at about 0700 and then marched over (or some semblence of marching) to a training site for some more refresher training. We spent the morning doing the low crawl, high crawl, and 3 to 5 send rushes. I wish I had a video camera, but I’m also glad no one had one to record me. Just picture approximately 100 Army officers from mostly combat support and combat service support branches, such as medical, dental, transportation, and even topographic engineer officers. As the artillery simulators are detonating, we begin our 5-person team maneuvers. We had to negotiate under a barbed wire obstacle then go over a sandbag wall about 4 feet high. Finally we had to cross a linear danger area. Shouts of “Cover me while I move”, “I got you covered” and “Moving” brought back memories of Infantry Basic Training. But as we moved down the lanes, our shouts faded while the creaking of our joints increased. The movement lane was probably about 50 meters long, but it seemed to be about 100! Fortunately, after 2 hours of lane training, we moved indoors for some preliminary marksmanship instruction (PMI). Actually, while we were at the lanes for 2 hours, each individual probably spent a grand total of 10 minutes maneuvering on the lanes. But those 10 minyes were really tough, just ask me!
After PMI, we went to the M9 9mm pistol range. Once again, it reached Heat Cat V. In accordance with the Commanding General at Ft Benning, for outdoor training during Heat Cat V, we unbloused out trousers from our boots and open the cuffs of our sleeves. It was hot, and I was completely drenched by the end of the range. Needless to say, it’s going to be much hotter in Iraq. Do you think they’ll let me unblouse my boots in Iraq?
