"Why not go to Italy?"

One day I woke up and thought to myself, "Why not go to Italy?" At that moment I decided to plan a trip to Europe... with Italy as the focus. My friend Emily Hardman and I spent two weeks in Croatia, Italy, and Greece and had the time of our lives... its hard to condense two weeks of bliss into a blog entry, but I'll do the best I can to keep it short and sweet. As Maria Von Trapp would say, "Let's start at the very beginning...."

My first stop was actually in Paris, France as can be seen in the picture to the left. I had a 12 hour layover in Paris before meeting my friend in Croatia. Naturally, I left the airport and saw the sights. I won't lie. I was a little nervous about Paris. Everyone I spoke to told me how rude the french people are... Even my french co-worker confirmed this. I was positive I would get lost, not find my way back to the airport and miss my flight to Croatia. Thankfully, this was not the case. I did my best to speak the little french I had learned, from Rick-Steve's pocket guide, to the locals and graciously they always responded in English.

I hit up the Eiffel tower, Notre Dame Cathedral, San Chapelle, and the Arc de Triomphe. No, I didn't go to the top of the Eiffel tower (too many people and I was hot and tired); yes, there are scary gargoyles on Notre Dame Cathedral; walking through San Chapelle was like being inside a jewelry box, and the Arc De Triomphe needs an elevator. I climbed all 234 plus stairs to enjoy the view from the top. Seeing as that was my last stop of the day, I had my suitcases in hand, and I had been up for over 24 hours straight I was a little tired to say the least. But the view was amazing and was worth the climb... and I even made it back to the airport with time to spare!

I landed in Zagreb, Croatia around 10:00 PM and collected the second stamp in my passport of the day. We stayed in a cute little hostel (barely big enough for two twin beds) in the heart of old town Zagreb. In the morning we grabbed breakfast at an open air market and enjoyed the quaint shops and cobble stone roads. From there we hopped on a bus and drove through some of the most beautiful country side I have ever seen, landing us in Pula, Croatia 3 hours later. The next morning we got on the local bus that took us to the beach. On this particular bus ride I had my first cultural experience if you will. My friend Emily had her feet propped up on the seat in front of her. Apparently, not a good idea (even though the bus was nearly empty). An older gentleman walked by, rolled up his newspaper, and while yelling in Croatian hit Emily with his rolled up newspaper; with his wife glaring at me all the while. Emily couldn't help but laugh. I wanted to yell at the guy. Looking back, it was pretty darn funny.

We made it to the beach a short 15 minutes later... not your typical beach. You didn't pull up a nice spot of sand to sit on... it was more like pick a rock that looks relatively smooth and pop a squat! When you wanted to take a dip you just jumped off the rocks into the water. It was different than anything I had ever seen. We met a few nice people our age from Germany and the Czech Republic and enjoyed spending the day with them. I did some cliff jumping which was a blast (minus the sting when I hit the water of course). The highest cliff I jumped from was 40 feet high. The water was just amazing. Crystal clear, perfectly blue, fish swimming around you etc etc. I loved every minute and was sad when the day rolled to an end. We ate at McDonald's that night. Let me tell you, I have NEVER been so happy to eat at a McDonald's in all my life. It was so nice to have french fries instead of pizza or some kind of pasta. It was the best ever... even despite the fact that I had to pay for each individual packet of ketchup with my meal. That was my last cultural experience of the day.

The next morning we hopped on a ferry and headed for Venice, Italy where we collected stamp number 3 for our passports. Venice is just like the movies make it out to be. I felt like I was in a scene from the Italian Job or something. Venice was hands down my favorite city in Italy. Water is so calming to me so naturally I loved all the canals and charming gondolas... although at $120 a pop we enjoyed them from the side walk. After a few days in Venice we got on a train and went to La Spezia, where we hiked the Cinque Terre. Let me tell you it was no small miracle that we even made it to La Spezia. Rail Europe needs to get their facts straight. We were only supposed to have ONE (key word ONE) connection on that train ride. We'll just say it was more like 4 trains, a bus ride, and 8 hours later... at one point as we were driving through the mountains of Italy in the middle of NOWHERE. I thought for sure the bus driver was going to dump us all on the side of the road and steal our passports. Thankfully he didn't, and we eventually arrived at our hotel. Yet another cultural experience that Emily and I laugh about now. PS. I quickly learned that people don't speak English in small town Italy... I had been so spoiled up to that point.

The Cinque Terre is magnificently beautiful. We hiked 7 miles through the mountains right along a cliff line that over looks the Mediterranean Sea. Along the hike are 5 villages that you passed through. Some of them appeared as though they were literally clinging to the cliffs. This hike made the 234 stair climb up the Arc De Triomphe look like a cake walk. We enjoyed a few different beaches here. Again... more rocks. Not much sand. It was starting to grow on me. Who needs sand anyway? The water was just as clean and clear as the water in Croatia. It was like a day out of my perfect life.

Florence was our next pit stop via Pisa. You have no option but to connect in Pisa on the way to Florence. Naturally we took advantage of this. We got off the train, walked to the leaning tower, took a few pictures documenting that we were actually there, and then got right back on the train. We arrived in Florence around 200PM. We were both so tired by that point that we went to sleep for three hours straight! We had an awesome view from our hotel room... as is seen to the right. One of my favorite moments happened next... oh happy day! We were so fortunate to finally find a MEXICAN food restaurant. Enough with the pasta and pizza already! We were needing some variety. We always got a kick out of the looks people gave us when we asked if there was a Mexican restaurant in town. But we finally prevailed and ate at the only one in Florence. Don't get me wrong... Italian food is my favorite. But you can only eat so much of it. Thank heaven for salty chips and fajitas. Florence is a beautiful city. Of course we enjoyed all of the famous sites including Michelangelo's "David." And to continue the theme of hiking and climbing... I made it all the way to the top of the bell tower (414 steps total). At least this time I was well rested and my bags were at the hotel. The view was breath taking and the highlight of my time in Florence.

Our last stop in Italy was Rome... It was here that I actually felt the NEED to watch my back. Pick-pockets everywhere. We hit up the Vatican, which included the Sistine Chapel, Saint Peter's Basilica, the Coliseum, the Trevi fountain, the Pantheon, and the Spanish Steps. My favorite part of Rome was the Trevi fountain and the Sistine Chapel. It was really hard to get a photo of Michelangelo's famous paintings with all the guards yelling at you every two minutes... but Emily and I were successful in the end due to her creativity. How could I forget to mention the best part of our entire trip up to this point? Can you say gelato? It's everywhere and we had at least 2 per day. So tasty.

From Rome we caught a flight to Athens, Greece... where we didn't get a fourth stamp in our passports. Greece is a part of the EU. Consequently, we didn't have to go through immigration. I was real sad about that. But I wasn't disappointed by Athens in general. It's a spectacular city. Surprisingly, I enjoyed Greek food the best hands down. I had fresh orange juice daily. It literally tasted like I was drinking an orange. It's the only way I can describe it. It was so good. We hiked around the many temples to the various Greek gods... which of course included the Parthenon.

Our next and final morning we took a ferry to a little island called Agina. Once we arrived at the beach (which actually consisted of sand this time), I kept thinking to myself, "This isn't real." It was like something out of a magazine. You know, the kind of magazine pictures that you assume are altered by computer imaging because they can't possibly be that beautiful in reality. It was so picturesque and surreal. I'll let the photos do the talking from here. I found a star fish in the sea. It was pink. So pretty. Here's a funny story for you. We ate lunch at the little cafe that was literally on the beach right next to our beach chairs. I ordered the "small fried fish," assuming that I was getting fish and chips. I was so wrong and wanted to hurl when the waiter placed 20 "small fried fish," head, tail, and all right in front of me. There wasn't enough ketchup and water that could get that fish down me. I stuck to the fries! Ha ha.

And that my friends is the end my trip in a nut shell. I realize this was a long blog entry and for that my apologies. But I could have written novels more. The new cultures, the people, the food, the views, the train rides, everything was a blast and was worth every minute of time and money spent. I would do it again in a heart beat. So if you ever find yourself thinking, "Why not go to Italy?" take my advice and GO!

"You will want to die"

In an attempt to provide comfort prior to surgery my good friend Tiffany said, "Don't be alarmed. When you wake up, you will want to die. This is normal." Those words were the only thing that brought even a semblance of a smile to my face in the recovery room... because they were true, and in a funny sort of way it made me chuckle. I wanted to die! A combination of feeling completely out of control due to the anesthesia, feeling very short of breathe, wanting to vomit, and being completely paralyzed in my right arm, left me with the feeling of "wishing I would die." Apparently being a non-drinker doesn't help the recovery process seeing as my body isn't used to drugs. According to the nurse I have a "pure system." It took me twice as long as most people to come out of recovery. I should have left by ten, but didn't leave till almost 12.

It's a very strange feeling to be paralyzed. No matter how hard I looked at my fingers and said, "Wiggle" they just wouldn't listen. I think that's the thing that bothered me the most. It was very disconcerting even though I knew that the feeling in my arm would eventually come back... or at least in theory.

My sister Teri was great. The only glitch was that her alarm did not go off. I received a very frantic call at 553 AM (seven minutes prior to when she was supposed to get me) stating that she had just woken up! I called a friend and she dropped me off at the hospital. In the mean time Teri risked life and limb to make it to the hospital in time to wish me well... this included excessive speeding and driving in the HOV lane illegally. She made it and was there with me through the pre-op experience. This was a good thing. I would have no recollection of speaking with my surgeon otherwise. When they started the pain block (paralyzing agent) for my arm, we'll just say I became rather loopy. I vaguely remembering asking my surgeon a question... mostly I was fixated on how I was pretty sure the stripes on the curtains surrounding my bed weren't supposed to be moving back and forth and up and down.

Teri was then shewed away, and I was wheeled into the operating room. I remember huge lights and lots of sterile instruments. The nurse wheeled me next to the operating table and asked me to move from the current bed to the table. I told her that I didn't know if I could (please remember I'm still very loopy), to which she responded, "Well, you're gonna have to." My first thought was that this response was not very nice and that I did not appreciate her tone of voice. However, she was right. So I used all of my energy and successfully transferred to the operating table. The only thing I left behind was my right arm... it was still on the gurney. I reached over with my left arm, picked it up and plopped it beside me. This made the nurse laugh. And that my friends is the last thing I remember prior to waking up, and "wanting to die."

I've already mentioned what post-op was like. So I won't say anymore about that... other than that Teri was great. She filled my prescription, got me some ginger ale (even though the nurse yelled at her for this), helped me get dressed... which wasn't a pretty site, for Teri that is, and patiently waited for me to be coherent enough to walk to the car. When I arrived at home Teri had gotten me a cute balloon along with flowers, a card, and markers for my cast. She stayed with me the rest of the day and helped tremendously around the house. I was glad she was able to be with me. She was a huge help and was very comforting.

Perhaps the funniest part were my instructions from the hospital, which stated that if my fingers turned white or blue I needed to go to the emergency room immediately. The reason this is funny is because my fingers were already blue from the dye used during surgery (and still are, by the way). Heck if I could tell if there was anything wrong. But I can feel them, move them, and they aren't fat like "sausages" (another thing the instructions said to look for), so I'm assuming they're alright. Fortunately, I haven't been in much pain at all. Percocet works, in case you wanted to know.

The surgeon said things went very well. I'm in a sling 24/7 until Friday, at which point the stitches will be removed, and I will be casted. In the mean time, I've had great friends who've helped me do a number of things that can not be done one handed... some of which will not be mentioned on this blog. Otherwise, I'm learning to be more ambidextrous. Showering is fun and involves newspaper bags and rubber bands. I already appreciate my right hand so much more. Let the good times roll!!!

And the Verdict is...

According to my orthopedic doctor and two hand surgeons the verdict is a resounding yes for surgery! And not only that but a bone graft. And not only a bone graft, but a pin as well. And if you thought that was the end, think again. Not only surgery with a bone graft and a pin, but two months in a cast afterwards. And finally, not only casting after surgery but another 4-6 weeks in a splint after that! Ten dollars to the first person who can tell me what doesn't sound fun about that! For those of you who are wondering, the bone graft will likely come from the radius, which is a bone in the forearm.

Though the above mentioned procedures aren't exactly exciting, it could always be worse. And what doesn't kill you will make you better, right? In all honesty I've been very blessed. A door was opened for me to see one of the top hand surgeons in the area. It normally takes several months to even get an initial visit with this guy. I called on Monday, and was in to see him on Friday (there had been a cancellation), which was nothing short of a miracle. Furthermore I should be on the operating table within a couple weeks. All in all I would say things are working out quite nicely for the beginning to the end of my hand problems.

That Dadgum Fourwheeler

For the first time since I broke my hand during my off-roading experience in California nearly nine months ago, I found myself cursing that day. Last Wednesday I went to my ortho for a follow up on an MRI I recently had done. Though I'm still in pain we were hoping he would be able to clear me for sports. Needless to say I was shocked and discouraged when he mentioned words such as, avascular necrosis, surgery, pin etc. etc. Avascular necrosis is basically a fancy way of saying that my bone is dying. Yes, dying. The blood flow has been compromised and as a result the fracture isn't healing. Good times. I see a surgeon this week. Most likely I'll have a pin placed in the bone and will be immobilized for a period of time. Who would have thought? 45 minutes of fun on a four wheeler and nine months later we're talking surgery. Oh well. You live, you learn, and you have surgery! I guess that basketball court will be waiting for a few more months.

God Bless Texas and Baby Jack

A little over a week ago I took a trip back to the "Blessed Homeland" as I like to call it. It was time to visit family... especially Baby Jack (my nephew). It was so nice to be at home where you can see for miles and miles. If you need to pull off the highway to stop at a Taco Bueno for example, you can spot one from the road easily. In D.C. with all the trees it's a guessing game and you're lucky to find so much as a gas station. It was so refreshing to see the open skies, and large clouds. Even the cows on the way to my grandma's house made me smile.

Most importantly Baby Jack was just as cute as could be. Now for those of you who know me... I am NOT a baby person. But I just couldn't get enough of him. Unfortunately, Erin wouldn't let me bring him back to D.C., which was very selfish of her. She's the youngest in the family. It's to be expected I suppose. One of my favorite moments with Jack was when he tried his first bite of fish. He scrunched up his face real fast. Not that I blame him. Who likes fish anyhow? It was pretty entertaining. He chewed on that for a while. Lol. His favorite game is being chased around a chair. We played that daily. He's learning to walk, which is fun. He's a bundle of cuteness... which Runs in the family.

Mom pulled out the whip and made me do some spring cleaning. I took a walk down memory lane and trashed piles and piles of old junior high and high school memorabilia. The rest came home to D.C. with me. I had dinner with some of my college b-ball teammates which was such a blast. My trip to Texas was a lot of fun. I just wish it could have lasted longer!

Back By Popular Request

Though my blog was originally for the sole purpose of keeping the masses updated while I was in California last year, I've decided to continue blogging due to popluar request. The most exciting thing that has occured since my last entry nearly seven months ago is that I officially own property in the United States of America! Yes, that's right, I'm a proud home owner. Other than the refrigerator blowing up three times during my first week at mi casa... along with other things such as the kitchen sink and the windows... things are great! No exaggeration on the refrigerator either. Ya, that's actually still a work in progress, and I've learned not to be bothered by water spewing everywhere. Nothing that a few towels and a bucket can't fix. It's amazing the things you learn how to do when you own your home. My new best friend is my power drill. I know how to rip up lanolium (and carpet for that matter) and lay new tile in it's place. Who needs a handy man anyway? God bless America and the right to own property... however small it may be!

From One "Happy Place" to the Next

A little over 7 months ago I arrived in Orange County, California, my so called "Happy Place," for a temporary work assignment. That assignment has come to an end, and I am now back in northern Virginia. My time in California was a tremendous blessing, and I already miss being there. Among the greatest of those blessings was the opportunity to spend so much time with my extended family and to get to know them on a deeper level. That in and of itself was worth my time away from the D.C. area. I was able to do and see a lot of really neat and amazing things, as is seen in my many blog entries. A great time was had! But for now it's back to life in Virginia with all it's joys and stresses. I'm grateful to know that during those crazy moments of life I have "happy places" I can visit here as well. May the record show that life rolls on from one "Happy Place," to the next.