25 Christmas Questions

I saw this on someone else's blog... and it's too fun to not fill out.

25 Christmas Questions

1). Eggnog or Hot Chocolate? 

Hot chocolate. I'm really not an eggnog person... in fact I think about one sip out of someone else's cup is almost too much. 

2). Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree? 

Santa always just left the presents under the tree... and well, he had to be able to know which presents were mine quickly without having to worry about looking at the gift wrap tag. Santa was just too lazy to wrap presents, and I agree with that tradition...

3). Colored lights on a tree/house or white? 

I have a pre-lit fake tree which has colored lights, however since my tree is 110 volt ... we put some white 220v lights on it. I don't really care, I just generally like lights. I've got a little Clark Griswald in me. 

4). Do you hang mistletoe? 

No. I don't even know what it looks like. 

5). When do you hang your decorations up? 

The day after Thanksgiving. Yes. You read that right. 

6). What is your favorite holiday dish (except dessert)? 

It is a tie between my Grandma Shirley's cranberries and green bean casserole 

7). Favorite holiday memory as a child? 

Hmmm. This is very tough. I have so many... We always had a real tree growing up, and we would go out in the woods as a family to find it every year. It was always a beautiful snowy day, and we would take some time to go sledding while finding the tree. 

8). What is on your Christmas wish list? 

Umm, I never really make a list. I'm just happy with whatever I get.

9). Do you open gifts on Christmas Eve? 

As children we did - mostly because we would open presents at one grandparent's house, then Christmas Day we would go to another grandparent's house to open more presents. As an adult no, I wait until Christmas morning to open presents.

10). How do you decorate your Christmas tree? 

In no particular order with Christmas music playing in the background. 

11). Snow? Love it or dread it? 

Love. Love love love. 

12). Real tree or fake tree?

We always had a real tree growing up, and I prefer them. However, I have a fake one... somehow I feel cats and trees don't mix. 

13). Do you remember your favorite gift? 

It changes each year. I remember lots of wonderful, thoughtful gifts. 

14). What's the most important thing about Christmas for you? 

Spending time with family. 

15). What is your favorite holiday dessert? 

Pumpkin pie. 

16). What is your favorite tradition? 

Making and decorating sugar cookies with my mom. 

17). What tops your tree? 

At the moment nothing. I should probably remedy that with post-Christmas sale shopping. 

18). Do you prefer giving or receiving? 

It is such a wonderful feeling to know you picked out a present for someone that they truly love.

19). What is your favorite Christmas song? 

White Christmas performed by The Drifters 

20). Candy canes. Yuck or yum? 

Yuck. 

21). Favorite Christmas movie? 

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. 

22). What do you leave for Santa? 

Nothing. 

23). Do you have a Christmas morning tradition? 

Wake up (usually early, but not on purpose), eat cinnamon rolls, and open presents.

24). Do you like to shop online or at the mall? 

I prefer at the mall because I like to have something in hand and not have to worry about it getting delivered in time. However, there really isn't a mall for me to shop at... so I've been doing more online shopping in the last few months 

25). Christmas letter or Christmas card?

I like to receive either. I like that someone thought enough about me to send me a card/letter. Letters are always more fun because you get more info about the person and what has been going on in their life. However, I'm too lazy to send out either.

Going Home

Shortly after writing my last post, my Grandma Betty passed away. I had told my dad I wanted him to call me, no matter what time it was, to tell me himself. The last thing I wanted was to receive a "Grandma is dead" email or voice mail. I brought our house phone into the bedroom with me when we went to bed. It took me a long time to fall asleep as I was just waiting for the phone to ring. Somehow I fell asleep, and managed to even sleep in the morning. I was confused when I woke up. Why hadn't my dad called? Was Grandma still hanging in there? That's when I realized the batteries on the cordless phone had died. I went to put the phone on the charger and the light of the answering machine was blinking. Damn it. The one thing I didn't want to happen, happened.

This is where my impatience kicked in. I am a person, especially in situations like this, who likes to plan. Planning and organizing are therapeutic to me. I can't control what is going on or what has happened, but I can plan every detail around it. However, when I received the message about Grandma it was midnight back home in Montana. There was no one to call. There was no way to know what to do. I called Josh at work to tell him. He started the paperwork I'd need to take a military hop home, but he needed travel dates to plug in. I didn't have any dates to tell him since I wasn't sure when anything was going to happen. I had nothing to do but sit and wait for it to be a reasonable hour in Montana to call my parents. It was a miserable few hours which seems to take days to pass by. When I did call my parents, beyond knowing that Grandma had passed away, they didn't know anything. No funeral date had been agreed upon. My dad was pushing for a date after New Years for everyone who would have to travel (not just me, but my aunt and uncle as well). Ugh. More sitting around. I just wish I had something constructive to do. I should have channeled this energy into school work, but I wasn't able to get myself to focus. Instead I cooked.

On Tuesday my dad informed me Grandma's funeral would be the first week of January, although he wasn't sure of a specific date. At least I had a time frame to work with. I had looked more into military flights home. I have heard mixed reviews from people who have flown on hops. Some people love them, other people have had bad experiences. The biggest complaint about hops is that you are never guaranteed a spot on the flight, they only let on people at the last minute with what space is available. You never know if you will have a seat, and if you don't get out on this flight you have to wait for the next one. I have heard stories of people getting stuck at a base for a few days waiting to get a flight out. I've also heard of people who have had to rent a car to drive to another base because there was no way to get out of the base they were at. I already knew my impatience and control freak tendencies would be challenged by this. Since I was flying home because of a death in the family, I would have a higher "classification" than people who were flying just to travel. This higher status would give me more of a guarantee of a spot on a flight. Hops fly into different bases around the world. The closest base I could fly into would be McCord Air Base near Seattle. I researched this base online... and discovered after flying in there I'd have to find a way to the Seattle airport (kindness of strangers, be lucky enough to find a shuttle, or hire a taxi). A flight from Seattle to Missoula on Horizon Air (the most practical choice) was running close to $300 roundtrip. The problem is I couldn't buy a ticket in advance because I couldn't be 100% sure what time I would be getting to Seattle. The more I thought about all the uncertainty of flying on a hop... I realized it wasn't the right option for me. If I was going to take time off of work to go home, I wanted to spend as much time at home with my family as possible, not wasting time waiting around to get on a plane (which I may or may not be able to get on).

I started searching online using my cyber skills to find a plane ticket. I was prepared knowing my ticket might be extremely expensive. At first I could find reasonable tickets... as long as I was willing to have a 15 hour layover in an airport. Hmm. No thanks. After quite a bit of playing around with dates and airports (I had the option of flying out of Frankfurt or Luxembourg City and I could fly into Missoula or Great Falls) I found a ticket without crazy layovers for $1100. Flying overseas and into a small, poe-dunk airport like Missoula $1100 is a great price.

The next step would be to figure out things with work. I was shocked to discover within making three phone calls everything was taken care of. I called both of the hygienists I work with, followed by the office manager. The girls I work with are amazing. They were willing to cover my shifts - no questions asked. The office manager even asked me, multiple times, if I was sure I was taking enough time for myself. She has also offered multiple times this past week to give me more days off this next few weeks prior to me leaving to have "personal time." I honestly would like to stay as busy as possible and not be able to think. However, I appreciate her sympathy and understanding. It is a refreshing difference from what I have experienced in the past at other jobs. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by supportive people.

The days are ticking down until I leave. I work all week this coming week, and then get to enjoy Christmas with Josh (and some friends). I go right back to work for a few days and then leave on the 30th. It is still a bit away, yet I know it will be here soon. Probably a bit quicker than I am ready for. I'm already starting to set things aside and pack so I'm not rushed at the last minute. I feel such mixed emotions. I'm glad to have the chance to go be with my family. I'm excited to see everyone. I just wish it wasn't under these circumstances.

Tragedy

This post needs to be written... and it needed to be separate from the last one.

There has been quite the roller coast ride since the last time I wrote about my Grandma Betty. I have been overwhelmed with kind words and support from my family, friends, and complete strangers. Thank you. I find when I am faced with trying to comfort someone that words fail me. I never feel as if I can find something to say - forget about the "right" thing, I can't seem to think of anything. I find it not only comforting, but a bit impressive when people are able to articulate themselves when offering condolences. I so appreciate those who have reached out to share their thoughts, experiences, well-wishes, and prayers. I never thought my rambling blog would bring such attention. I was surprised, and it truly warmed my heart. So thank you.

My dad's brother - my Uncle Lance - is a doctor. After my Grandma received her grim prognosis, my uncle got involved and "took charge" so to speak... There is some new and amazing technology available now. They are able to replace heart valves through a catheter in your groin - which is somewhat similar in how they do angioplasties. What is great about this procedure is you do not have to open up the rib cage to access the heart - so it is much less invasive. It would have been a good thing for my Grandma since she wasn't physically strong enough to withstand traditional surgery. This topic is something I am familiar with as I am keeping current on it because I'm hoping when the time comes that I need to have my valve replaced I will be able to have it done this way versus having open heart surgery (much less invasive and a quicker recovery time). The procedure is being done with increasing frequency in Europe, however in the US it does not have FDA approval and is still in the "experimental" phase. For more information look here. This surgery is currently being done as an experimental procedure at the University of Washington Medical Center - which as is happens is where my Uncle Lance went to medical school and where he still has hospital privileges. My uncle talked to some cardiologists at UW, got them to review my Grandma's case, and they agreed my Grandma would be a candidate for this surgery. It was certainly a better option than what she had been told by her doctors in Montana.

My Grandma was flown out to UW to have a few test done before she - hopefully - had the valve replacement surgery. She arrived in Seattle worse for wear, and it took her a few days to get back to a better state. After seeing my Grandma in person, the doctors decided she wasn't a candidate for the experimental valve replacement because her veins/arteries were too small for the equipment. They thought my Grandma might be able to have another "style" of valve replacement which was also considered still experimental. This procedure involved accessing the heart through the side and going in between the ribs. For more info click here. The doctors had to present my Grandma's case to a board for it to be approved (since it is "experimental"). Her case was turned down. The doctors decided, as a last ditch effort, to do a valvuloplasty. This procedure is done through a catheter in the groin and it uses a balloon (similar to an angioplasty) to simply open the valve up. For more info click here.The doctors thought this procedure would relieve my Grandma of her symptoms and buy her some time. She successfully underwent this procedure last week, but then took a turn for the worst last weekend. My dad, my Uncle Lance, and my Aunt Janet all gathered in Seattle to be with her. She seemed to recover from this setback, and my dad was beginning to research extended care facilities for her to stay in close to him when she returned to Montana (hopefully next week). When I spoke to my parents on the phone this evening I was informed that my Grandma has once again gone downhill. The doctors believe she somehow got something (fluid, water, or food) into her lungs. They tried many things but had no improvements. My uncle was able to get to Seattle to be with her... but her breathing is shallow, and it won't be long.

I had decided - after a lot of soul searching, talking, blogging - not to go home to say my good-byes. I'm glad I made that decision. I stand by it. I have wonderful memories of my Grandma and they are not clouded by any of the terrible images of this final struggle. I know in my heart she knows how special she is to me and how much I love her. That is all that matters. I have decided I do want to go home for her funeral. Not to much to say good-bye - I will do that in my own time, in my own way - but to be there as a support for my dad, my aunt, and my uncle. I want to console them and do what I can to help. Now the big question... is when. Nobody plans on a funeral. It is something which is sudden, and frankly inconvenient for everyone involved. Plans much be changed, schedules rearranged. And that is what I will do, because my family is what is important and home is where I need to be.

Triumph

The last time I attended a military function, my car rolled out of its parking space into a parked car and I was covered in mustard. It didn't exactly go well. Josh had two Christmas parties (one for his shop, one for his squadron) for us to attend. I was hesitant, only because of last time, but I agreed to attend both parties. His shop party was last weekend, the squadron party was last night. Both parties were a huge success and I feel as if I have triumphed over my former experience.

Josh's shop party was relatively small. There was maybe a total of about 40 people there. I was pleasantly surprised when we arrived at a nice restaurant inside of a hotel about 20 kilometers from base. The hotel was decked out in Christmas lights, and the party was held in a private dining room which was decorated nicely. A lot of the people were dressed up for the party. The combination of a swanky location and people being "cleaned up"... well... some people seemed a bit overwhelmed and out of place. Keep in mind this is a group of men and women who spend most of their days in coveralls up to their elbows in grease as they tear apart equipment. They aren't exactly a "high brow" crowd. The dinner buffet was excellent, and the party was a lot of fun. I enjoyed being able to meet people and put a face to the name (oh... so YOU'RE the lazy idiot Josh complains about). The high point was winning $65. At each table they had put an envelope with $25 under one chair... and that chair happened to be mine. We also played music trivia and our table won (do NOT mess with me and music trivia... you will lose). Our prize was $20 a piece, which made our grand total $65.

Josh's squadron party was much larger than his shop. His squadron has about 500 people in it, and about 170 showed up for the party. The location, food, and atmosphere were all festive. My friend Melissa's husband is in the same squadron as Josh, so it was fun to have her there. The big event at this party was the raffle prizes. The squadron was using the raffle tickets as a fundraiser, and since it is such a big squadron they got quite a few large prizes, including an IPad 2, 2 TVs, a PS3, an XBox 360, a $500 travel voucher... just to name a few things. Raffle tickets were $1 a piece. Given how nice the prizes were... we agreed to buy 40 tickets (cause hey... a $40 TV is a great price... and if you lose, at least you are supporting the squadron). We were both a bit surprised when our name was drawn for a 40 inch Sony Bravia 3D TV. I don't know a whole lot about electronics - or better I choose to not know a lot about electronics. I do know this TV has every abbreviation, acronym, bell and whistle possible for a flat screen TV now-a-days. I googled it to see what it was worth... and yes, we got one heck of a prize.

Josh did the math last night, and in the end after you balance out what we paid for tickets to the parties and raffle tickets... we came out $5 ahead with a new TV.

As I have said before, my Grandma Shirley was one heck of a lady. She was also a lady who had a lot of luck. She was the kind of person who could put $1 in a keno machine and walk away ahead always. I remember more than once as a child going out to breakfast with my grandparents... and while we were waiting for the bill my Grandma would take a quick moment to play on a keno machine (because you can gamble anywhere in Montana) and she would win enough money to pay for everyone's breakfast. It is a bit of a joke in our family about Grandma's luck. I feel as if I had a bit of her luck with me these past two weekends - because that luck certainly wasn't mine. I rarely win anything. I had Grandma there with me, giving me some luck to walk away ahead. With her luck I triumphed over my previous squadron experience.

First Day of School

Today is my first official day as a graduate student. It seems too soon, I know. I thought so too. With my program it is an open enrollment since it is all online. I was looking online yesterday to try to figure out how to register for classes (or which classes to take) since the Spring 2012 semester is fast approaching... and I discovered that upon registering for my classes, I only insert a start date... and from that date I have four months to complete said course. At first I was a bit perturbed. When do I want to start? Do I start now? Should I wait for the new year? After a few minutes of debating with myself I said "screw it" and signed up to start today.

My morning has been filled with a LOT of printing and organizing (somehow I forgot about that part of school). I've also watched two video lectures. It wasn't quite as painful or boring as I thought it would be. In fact I followed along and paid attention, which is more than I could say for myself during parts of my undergrad. The biggest challenge thus far is the cats. Somehow a laptop on my lap is a sign that they need to try and also sit on my lap... or beg for attention... This could be interesting.

'Tis the Season

I will confess, I love Christmas. I am one of "those people" who is excited about all parts of Christmas. I like decorating (my Christmas tree usually goes up the day after Thanksgiving). I like shopping for people I love and picking out a present I hope they will enjoy. I like wrapping presents (although I am horrible at it and the presents I wrap end up looking a bit off-kilter). I love doing seasonal Christmas baking. And... one of the things I love most of all... is Christmas music. I know there are plenty of people out there who despise Christmas music. In fact, I'm sure I am in the great minority by liking Christmas music. Most years I "secretly" start listening to Christmas music sometime around the beginning of November. Yes, I love Christmas. So does Germany.

The Germans seem to think along the same lines as me, because they started to decorate right around Thanksgiving time. Each town has a huge Christmas tree up that is decorated (some trees only have lights, others have more decorations). There are also lots of lights, garlands, and wreaths hung around the towns. It feels very festive. Christmas season in Germany also brings Christmas markets. Most towns seem to have a Christmas market, and in the bigger cities the market will last for most of December. I have been excited about going to some Christmas markets to see what they are all about.

Saturday we went to the Christmas market in Trier, which is about a half hour away from us. Trier's market runs from before Thanksgiving until Christmas. In the middle of the walkplatz (pedestrian zone full of shops along cobblestone walkways) was the market. The vendor booths were decorated with garland, lights, and in some cases some interesting other decorations like fake deer, goats, or Santa. We weren't there to do any serious shopping (all of our Christmas presents have been bought and shipped), but mainly wanted to enjoy the atmosphere. What a wonderful, festive, fun atmosphere to absorb! Even though it was cold, windy, and raining we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I was surprised when I realized we'd been walking around the market for close to two hours. One of the things which all Christmas markets have is gluwein, which is a hot spiced wine. It is delicious! It also is served in a cute little souvenir mug which is unique to each Christmas market and it changes each year.

Cup of Gluwein

Views of the Christmas market

On Sunday we were invited to meet up with my friend Melissa in Koln. Koln has a total of seven different Christmas markets, three of which are right around the cathedral. Koln is a bit of a drive - two hours - but it was worth the drive. Most of what is sold at Christmas markets is universal - wooden Christmas decorations/ornaments, nutcrackers, meat/cheese/food, wine, gluwein, wool socks/hats/mittens/scarves, wooden toys, ect. As I said, we weren't really there to actually shop, more just to enjoy ourselves. We had a wonderful afternoon wandering around the markets, although they were much more crowded than the market in Trier.

Who needs words? 

Our Christmas season is just winding up, and I'm excited about it. Such a beautiful time!

Infection control optional

Another one of my fears I have about living over here is medical care. Our base doesn't have a hospital. It has a clinic. At the clinic you can be seen for most basic things (a physical, medications, cold/flu), but anything more than that you are referred to a German doctor. I have given myself many pep-talks about how Germany is not a third-world country, it is an industrialized nation, so therefore the healthcare should be similar to the standards I'm used to. Despite my pep-talks, I have been afraid that while I'm over here I will have to utilize German health care. In a reoccurring theme, I got to face one of my fears and spent the weekend in a German hospital.

To spare details which no one really needs to know, I will generally say I was having "stomach problems." These stomach problems were severe enough to warrant seeking medical attention. That, and I was supremely freaked out. We arrived at the hospital in Bitburg, which is about 15 km from our house. Since many military personal and dependents have to get treatment off base, three of the local hospitals have Patient Liaison Officers, or PLOs. The PLO is there to help translate and to be your advocate to try and make your experience as pleasant as possible. As soon as we walked through the doors of the hospital we simply said "PLO" and literally within a minute the PLO was there. She was wonderful. She helped get us checked in, got me paperwork to fill out in English, and then stood right by my side to help translate as the doctor was starting her examination.

Here was where I first noticed a difference between US hospitals and German hospitals. In the US, if you were to go to the ER with the problem I had... they would examine you, maybe do a few tests, and then give you some meds and send you on your merry way. In Germany, I had barely finished filling out my paperwork and the doctor stated she was going to have to admit me. What?! Um.... okay... I guess? Is there really a way to protest that? I got admitted to the hospital on Saturday afternoon. They drew some blood and did a few other minor tests... but then mainly left me alone. And I truly mean alone. I was in a room by myself, and after they served me dinner (which was a piece of bread, cheese, and bologna with a pear) no one ever came back to check on me. In the US there is always a nurse or someone popping their head in, checking your blood pressure, checking your temperature, poking you with something... just generally bugging you. Here... nothing. What if I passed out? Or had a seizure? Or... something? No one would have known. I was a bit disturbed by this.

I knew the language barrier was going to be a challenge.. and it was. Most of the staff could speak some English... but trying to translate medical terms into English seemed to be a challenge. So there was a lot of fumbling/bumbling to try and tell me what they were going to do... followed by some crude pantomiming. I would say I understood what was going on about half of the time. The other half, I was just surprised by what happened next. They kept giving me an IV drip of something... I never quite got what it was... I think it was suppose to be something to help my stomach. What was surprising was the IV was a glass bottle. In the US you always get a plastic bag looking thing... but here it was a little glass bottle. I felt like I was in a hospital from the 1960s. Who uses glass? Then again, Germany recycles more than ANY place I've ever been... so maybe it has something to do with that? I found it interesting.

The biggest, and probably most disturbing, difference with a German hospital is the lack of infection control. Most people probably aren't even aware of "infection control" in American hospitals as it just happens so naturally. Maybe I'm a bit hyper-sensitive to it because it is something we also do in dentistry... that and I'm a germ-a-phob. But the idea of it is you wear gloves whenever you are going to touch either a bodily fluid or a mucus membrane, and you cover areas which may get "splattered" by bodily fluids. You also disinfect everything after you use it, unless it's disposable. Which is why people wear gloves, why things are covered in plastic, and why they throw things way or use a disinfecting wipe afterwards. It is not just for your protection, but for the protection of the healthcare provider and the person after after you. The nurses in the German hospital would wear gloves to draw blood/start and IV... and that's about it. A nurse was detaching an empty glass bottle of mystery medical fluid from my IV and put a new stopper in the end of my IV. A little bit of blood dripped out of the end of my IV. She used her bare hands to pick up a piece of gauze, wipe away the blood, then put the bloody gauze in her bare hand and walked out of the room. GROSS! Another nurse didn't securely attach the tubing for the mystery fluid to my IV... and some bloody fluid dripped out onto my sheets. She also used her bare hands to clean it up. I was super grossed out. In the US you also see nurses frequently washing their hands, or as soon as they enter a patient room they will use the disinfecting foam/gel/mist in the room. Never saw that happen in this hospital. If the nurses wash their hands, they're not doing it where I can see it. The language barrier made it a challenge to ask them why they weren't wearing gloves, or to ask them to put some on. I decided this was not the time for me to try and single-handedly change the hospital glove policy.

I spent the rest of Saturday hanging out in the hospital. Josh brought me my laptop and a stack of DVDs as well as some books. My friend Melissa brought me a stack of magazines and came by to keep me company for awhile. On Sunday I was told I had to wait until Monday when the Gastrointestinal doctor was in to see me. He would be the one to decide what was going on. However, they knew he'd want to do an endoscopy/colonoscopy, so I got to spend Sunday doing the prep for those procedures. For those of you who have either never had these procedures done, or you've never had a parents who has done one... let me fill you in on this. The doctor needs everything to be "cleaned out" so he can see inside of you. You get where I'm going with this? To clean you out they make you drink this nasty, terrible liquid. It is suppose to be lemon-lime flavored, but there is so much of the medication (whatever it is) dissolved in the water the water tastes almost salty and seems very thick. I used to tell my mom to just plug her nose and chug it. Let me tell you, that tactic doesn't work. The only thing you can do is just try to fight your gag reflex and choke down cupful after cupful of that nasty, terrible stuff. Ugh. After you drink that horrible stuff... well, it's suppose to "clean you out." Use your imagination. In addition to the cleansing, you are only allowed to have clear liquids. So I got to have a delicious lunch and dinner of beef broth, disgusting lemon jello (which tasted like dirty dish water so I chose starvation over the jello), and apple juice. I was a happy camper. Thrilled with life.

At this point, I was also beginning to question whether all of this was necessary. I spared you the details of what actually was going on with me physically. As I said, it was enough to freak me out. Before going to the hospital, I WebMD-ed my symptoms... and under every possible diagnosis it said "seek medical attention immediately." There is an "Ask-A-Nurse" hotline for the base, which I called and spoke to a nurse. She also advised me to go to the ER immediately. I think I made the right decision... however I guess I just wonder if I really needed a colonoscopy/endoscopy? I'm not a doctor... so I don't know, maybe that is a "standard" way of determining what was going on. However. Germany works under a system of socialized medicine. Therefore... the hospital isn't ever "making money" on anything. But. The hospital does charge out Tricare (military medical insurance) for the services it provides, and it gets paid for those. There is an... idea... or a rumor I should say... that floats around base that the German hospitals will do more things to you/for you as an American because they are getting paid by Tricare. Of the women I know who have had a baby over here, most of them have had a C-section. Which... just seems to be a high percentage. My cousin Megan had a C-section, and she told me she wasn't even really sure why she had to... the doctor just said she did. Maybe it's a coincidence... however the hospital will get more money from Tricare for a C-section than a regular birth. I'm glad the doctors wanted to get the root of what was causing my problems... but I can't help to wonder if the Tricare/money issue was a factor in their decision making process.

Monday I woke up and didn't get any breakfast... a sign I was truly going to have the procedures. A nurse came to get me, and wheeled me down to the treatment room. (Here is another fun difference between US and German hospitals. In the US unless you're very old/sick, they tend to wheel you places in a wheel chair. In Germany... they just wheel your bed everywhere.) I was in a room with lots of equipment and I realized what was about to happen. It was at this point that I got very upset thinking, "I'm in a foreign country, I don't speak the language, I don't know what's going on... I WANT MY MOMMY!!!!" Lucky for me, the two nurses and the gastrointestinal doctor who were there all spoke excellent English. The doctor explained what he was going to do, what he was looking for, and then the nurse gave me some sort of magical medicine in my IV. The next thing I knew I was awake and it was over. The doctor told me everything looked good... only the last two inches or so of my colon "had inflammation." He took biopsies of those areas to test, but he thinks they will come back negative. So ultimate diagnosis was that I had a bacterial infection... of unknown origin. The good part about all of this... I got to go home.

Josh picked me up after he got off work. We got home, and while he baked a pizza I took a loooong, luxurious shower (as I hadn't had one since Saturday morning). Then we enjoyed pizza (food, glorious food!) while watching the newest episode of Dexter online. I was exhausted and went to bed at 7:30. I slept all night with Josh on one side, both cats on the other. Oh it feels good to be home!

So much to be thankful for

This year was the first time I have ever had Thanksgiving away from my family. Once, right out of college, I had Thanksgiving with a boyfriend's family (it was a disaster of epic proportions... too much family drama!) but I had dessert and spent more time with my brother that evening than I did with the boyfriend. So... I'm going to say that doesn't really count. This was the first time I have not been with any sort of family for Thanksgiving. I was kind of worried I would get homesick, but I also think Thanksgiving is going to be easier than Christmas.

I had some preconceived notions and stereotypes about military Thanksgivings. This year both validated and challenged these ideas I had.

We were invited to my friend (my only friend over here, minus my cousin) Melissa's house for Thanksgiving. She was hosting for her husband's entire shop, and invited us to come over as well. I was excited by this because we a). had plans, b). wouldn't be alone, and c). I wouldn't have to cook a turkey by myself. In the time from the initial invitation to Thanksgiving day, our invitation morphed from "please join us" to "please help us." Melissa had casually told people if they had a Thanksgiving favorite or something they loved having, they should bring it. She also had her husband put out a sheet where people could sign up to say what they were going to bring. Nobody signed up. No one had officially volunteered to bring anything. This is where the "help us" came from. I had always envisioned military holiday meals to be one giant pot-luck where everyone brought something, there was tons of food, everyone helped out. The lack of commitment from Melissa's guests was really challenging what I thought things were going to be like. This did more than challenge my ideas of how things should/would be... it made me mad. How rude! You are invited as a guest to basically get a free meal, a free wonderful holiday meal. My mom taught me when you are a guest at someone's house you always ask what you can bring. If you're told you don't need to bring anything... you bring something anyways. When you bring something, you don't just bring one tiny portion or one measly bottle of something... you bring enough to actually contribute. I just... I couldn't even fathom that no one was going to help out with dinner, no one was going to bring anything. It made me mad, and I wasn't even the hostess. I was mad for her. Josh assured me this wasn't "typical" behavior and it was just this particular group of people who were acting this way. I would hope so.

Melissa asked for help. We were happy to. Josh and I are similar in that we would do pretty much anything to help someone out. We also love food and love to eat. We decided to bring appetizers/snack foods, and desserts. Josh tends to get a bit excited when he has to cook something/prepare something for an occasion. Like for our wedding. Our wedding was a small affair with just our immediate families there. We decided to have some snack foods out for everyone. Every time I thought we were done and had enough food... Josh would start making another dip, or cutting up more cheese... But, I will say, at the end of the night all of the food was gone. Josh went to town working on appetizers for Thanksgiving with the same gusto as he did for our wedding. He made a meat a cheese tray, meet and cheese roll-ups, lumpia (a Korean egg roll), and deviled eggs. I made a relish tray (because that is a Thanksgiving tradition in my family), 7 layer dip, and Chex mix. I also made four pies - two apple, two pumpkin - for dessert. I also made my Grandma Shirley's cranberry sauce. That is a staple in our family's holiday dinners, and I think it is amazing. When we arrived at Melissa's house we had to make two trips to carry everything inside. Melissa is a wonderfully gracious hostess, and she kept thanking us profusely for all of the food and work. What can I say? Lehmans like to party.

Dinner wasn't suppose to be served until 2, but we arrived at 10 to help out. Here is where I should explain that Melissa is a southern bell. Our menu for the day included mac and cheese (she asked me if we had this at Thanksgiving, and when I told her no she thought we were crazy! Crazy Northern Yankees!), two types of stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole (which I'd never had before - it was amazing), green bean casserole, baked beans (again, she couldn't believe we didn't have this at our Thanksgiving dinners), two turkeys, ham, cranberry sauce,  and rolls. Holy food. I helped her to cook, which was a challenge as German ovens are at least 1/3 of the size of a normal American oven, and everything is in Celsius. However, everything turned out perfectly and was ready mostly on time.

There was probably around 20 people who showed up for dinner. This was the military turn-out I was expecting. And almost everyone showed up with some food or dessert to share. My faith was restored and people had redeemed themselves. The dinner itself was exactly what I thought a "military dinner" would be... lots of people, lots of food... everyone sharing stories of where they are from, what their family does for holidays. It was a great sense of togetherness. Though my family is a couple thousand miles away... I felt far from alone. I was happy to be with Josh and with Melissa. It was great to spend the holiday with my husband and a friend. I had a lot of fun and learned LOTS of great new southern cooking tricks. We were happy, warm, safe, and FULL of food. There is a lot to be thankful for.

A girl I went to high school with is living in Italy as her husband is stationed there with the Army. It's a small world. She keeps a blog as well. I was reading it this morning, and I have to share/steal something she posted, as it is something I think about all the time.
"This year I am so thankful to have the opportunity to live in Italy. I have heard a lot of people complaining about living here and it makes me sad. On the one hand, yes it is hard to be far from home and family and familiar things. But on the other hand I think it is all about your attitude. It can be oh so wonderful to experience all of these new things. Yes, it's scary sometimes. But it's wonderful too. The time will fly by and soon each of us military families will move back to the states, this is really a very short time we have here overall. So ENJOY it! " - from the blog The Life of an Army Wife Abroad by Jen Lloyd

ACCEPTED

Here's the fun part of the journey I get to share.
Thank you to everyone who has shown your support or shared a kind word. Thank you most of all to my mom, who is my biggest support and #1 cheerleader. In her famous words, "Praise the Lord and pass the wine."