Another year

Another year older, another year wiser they say...well I beg to differ last year at this time at least I was getting my picture taken with real people instead of ones made out of stone, or whatever material that is.

In all seriousness it does make me think back over the past year, passing such a milestone as the quarter of a century mark is a big deal. I am in my mid 20's for sure. I am still in school...I know I know there are all kinds of ways people try and make it okay like "You will have a great job soon" or "You are going to have your doctorate at age 25" or "Well, you look like you're just ready to start high school" Let me tell you none of these, especially the last one make it okay. Nope, I've been in school for the past 22 years, I think, can't remember pre-school, but i feel like I was in it for two years?? Mom, any input on this one? That's a long time either way. I guess I'm really good at it though, if nothing else:)

Other than school, I've been around...I've traveled the country, the countries, the continents (minus Australia and Antarctica, but maybe some day). I've been in my fair share of clubs, on teams, in Bible studies. I've led clubs, teams, groups, Bible studies. I've seen a lot, heard a lot, talked a lot, listened a lot, but ya know I feel like I've only had a taste. No matter how much we study, there's more to learn. No matter where we go, there's more to see and experience. No matter how long or how hard I try I will never know the fullness of God. I feel blessed to have been a servant of my King, to have had the opportunities with the above listed things to represent Him. Have I done it well? At times. Have I messed it up? You bet. Have I learned from my mistakes? Yes and no. Am I still asking for His strength and joy and love everyday to make it through another day? I try to.

The other night in Bible study we shared how long we had been Christians...I can pin point the moment the exact place and time when I knew it was His way or the highway. 7th grade. 12 years old. I remember the first time I felt the Holy Spirit wash over me, the most reassuring feeling I've ever felt. I recall asking Jesus into my heart the first time when I was little (don't know how old) yes first b/c i didn't think it worked at first so I prayed again. Reassured he heard me the second time though I felt no different, I guess it was the beginning of greatness..hehe. Well all joking aside you and I both know I wouldn't be who I am without each of those moments. Those monumental points in my life that God used to shape me, to make me decidedly His daughter.

What else is there besides that. God has lead me all along. He has taken me places, brought countless brothers and sisters in Christ along the way...people that come, some that stay, more that go...or do I go? It's a chicken and egg thing I spose.

What's next people ask...lots of people ask "Where do you think you will live when you're done with school?" Don't ask, if I knew I'd tell you! "What kind of PT job will you look for?" Again, I'd fill you in if I knew the answer. I'm going with history on the fact that I have a feeling it will be somewhere other than IN at first. Does that mean Illinois or Australia or anywhere in between? Beats me. Didn't think I'd ever go to grad school till it happened. Didn't give too much thought to college till it was there. Fell into cross-country, pole-vault, St. Louis, Nicaragua, FW, Cali, Africa. Either I'm not a planner, or God is a really good secret keeper. I think He likes to suprise me. I like suprises. As far as I can tell they turn out better than I can imagine or think up. I always end up fairly well prepared by a previous suprise and refining period. will the refining stop? sadly, no. Never said it would be easy, Paul guaranteed it wouldn't be easy. I like Paul, cool guy.

Yeah, so I'm another year older, another year wiser. Another year of learning, another year of praying. Another year of experiencing all that God has planned and gifted unto me.

Can you see what I see?

Pictured above: my Scottish family here in CA :)

Pictured here: my real family, if you couldn't see the family resemblance already

The Almaden Valley looking north to San Jose

This morning 7:20 a.m. I run up the path entering Quicksilver Park. It doesn't "open" till 9 a.m.; I'm not the first to pass the sign at this hour, probably one of the first 50 or so on the day. I surmise hundreds more will pass it throughout the course of the day. By now I no longer carry a map. I know each trail on the north end of the park; I try not to run the same combination twice, don't think I have save the fact that I like to exit by the same trial as often as I can. The downhill is gradual and smooth enough to allow the legs to stretch out, the turnover to increase until I feel like my legs are spinning in curcles like the cartoon Roadrunner. Did I mention it takes half the time to exit as it does to enter the run? It's a fact, proven. but this a.m. I don't car about the time, I mearely wish to get a run in befor eour day trip to Monterey, Point lobos apparently this is sort of a big deal around here (I'll let you know).

This morning is special. It makes 4 weeks since I arrived here. The halfway point. I've decided its time to let you see what I see so I brought the camera on this particular morning trodge. (My new term for jogging/trudging uphill here. You can't run, the hills keep going though I do feel closer to a jog this a.m. than I have at other times like Wed, my last trodge in the park.) Anyway, if you've seen the movie with Jim Carey when he has to say yes to everything and they have a running picture taking club...that's what I thought of as I ran to some good look out points, snapped a picture or two and ran on. Made me smile, you will too if you've seen the movie. The moments I did stop to look over the city I thought, huh, what do I wish to tell them about. What do I want them to see in these hills in this overview of San Jose. I want others to witness the beauty of the mountains as I can, a picture is only a morsel fo it thought, sadly. I have to explain how each a.m. the clouds are here, the fog is nota as bad as in San Fran so I heare, but present nonetheless. Equally, you should know had I come 5-6 hours later the fog would be gone, the clouds cleared out and you could clearly see the mountains on the other side of the valley. The brown and green dotted rolling hills encase the Almaden Valley that leads up to San Jose, actually makes up the southern part of the San Jose named city.

I live in the burbs. I live with a couple who hhave blessed me, nay, shared God's blessings of shelter, food, family, etc. They're not perfect; I'm not perfect. We get along great. I'm in the car with them right now. We recently drove past Gilroy, garlic capitol of the world. (no joke) Some mornings I can smell the garlic as I leave for work. this a.m. I smelled it as I ran to the park...who would've thought.
We're stopping soon for a freshly fried artichoke heart at "Giant Artichoke" in Castroville, which is close to Celinas Valley, the "Salad Bowl" of the world. (also home to the scare of eccoli infected spinach which happened not to long ago) Maybe this is part of how healthy California is b/c people grow fruits and veggies in their fields not just corn, beans, and hay. People have fruit trees in their backyard and almond trees...I never knew almonds grew on a tree; now I know.
Enough about food, though the deep fried artichoke hearts were very good, dipped in ranch...you can fry anything! Bonsai!!

Trudging further up the hill nwo you can see to downton, the taller buildings there, which can't be build above 15-18 stories depending on the flight path for the airport. Before you get to those you get to my hospital, the county hospital. I want you to know how I hate it; yet, I love it. I want you not to see the buildings, the trees, nor the hills. I want you to see the people I see. I want you to hear the sotries of people hit by cars, people on morotcycles hit by cars, people driving on drugs and ETOH (alcohol) who hit other cars, people who punch their arm through a glass pane and sustain a severed brachial artery and part of the median nerve and require plastic surgery and skin grafts to repair it.

I want you to see the recovering alcoholic try to walk. He could probably walk better drunk than sober, who are we kidding.

I want you to see the chest covered in tattoos (man I've seen alot of interesting tattoos in interesting places) that don't fit together anymore b/c that's where the bullet, bullets, buckshot? who knows went in and they had to do a lot of fixing and sewing and inserting tubes and etc.

If only you could meet the 19 year old girl with a mouth worse than a sailor and a GSW (gun shot wound) in the heel (good thing someone's a bad shot) whos dad is in prison, mom doesn't care. I haven't seen her in weeks but I've seen her movement from unit to unit due to infections and repairs and plastics. She's been in the hospital way too long, but guess it's better than getting high and doing other stuff on the streets with her peoples.

That's why I hate it.

Then there's the part of my job, the time spent fanagling, giving my 'professional opinion' on if someone is ready to leave. Are they ready from my standpoint? Well, that depends...house or apartment, stairs?, live alone or with others?, can they help take care of you?, What happens when there is no home? Homeless. Well, he's not at a high enough level to survive on the streets. A shelter or board and care can't take him b/c he needs constant help, they don't provide one on one care. No beds available here, no SNF to take em if they don't have insurance. The case manager is working on it, she is calling here and there, if he can get to this level that place will take him, if not, sorry.
Then there's the other guy the doctor suggests a wheelchair. Did you know he can walk with one hand hold, he doesn't need a chair. Yeah, he spontaneously stumbles, he's still wearing off from the alcohol. It will resolve on it's own, just takes weeks...we can't send him home if noone is there to help. He lives on the second floor apt. building...how's he gonna get the wheelchair up the stairs if we give him one anyway. He'll try to climb the stairs with it, did I mention he spontaneously will fall if noone is there.

That's why I hate it here.

But that's not all I see. I want you to see the family there to help the mother, father, brother, grandmother with the care. I want you to hear the family drop all and come to see how he is doing with therapy. The eagerness, the concern etched on faces as I explain how you are fine and you can help them out of bed, they are in pain yes, they will make it.

I want you to be in the room with me as I'm asked if he can pray for his grandmother quick before he leaves and we start therapy. I eagerly say yes, bow my head. They don't know yet that I understand spanish. I hear him pray for her recovery, her getting better, her therapy session today. I pray with him, my heart so full I think it might bust out of my chest. I am so happy, so moved, so humbled. I don't pray for them enough.

That's why I love it here.

I walk into a room and hear vietnamese, hindi, philipino, spanish, english, other dialects I can't even pronounce. I work with people who are very concerned that they're legs are showing. I work with people who don't mind if the gown blows open in the back while we are standing up. I get to encourage those eager to walk and get better. I work with those who are in so much pain their arms shake, but yet they keep going.

That's why I love it here.

Do you see it? Can you see maybe not the faces, but the cases? Can you see why it is so dang hard to be here? Why I am torn. I look forward to Monday morning, but not really.
I must decrease, He must increase, that's what I got from church Sunday morning. I think it's a good viewpoint. What am I doing really anyway, a lot I know, but He can do so much more. He is the way I've made it thus far, he is how I will make it four more weeks.

I wonder is Quicksilver the brand named after Quicksilver the park?

To Infinity and Beyond

Stand in Awe of God. I read in Ecclesiastes this a.m. in Chapter 5 verse 7 "Much dreaming and many words are meaningless. Therefore stand in awe of God." It was a good reality check. No need to dream about the future or talk about it beyond need. No, better to just simply stand in awe of God. That is not hard to do our here in the county parks I've come across in the past couple days. Friday evening I made it go a peak which overlooked the south part of San Jose and you could see downtown even...but that was nothing compared to today when I went over to the park that Mt. Hamilton is located in...didn't know it at the time so I might just have to go back so I can say I hiked to the top of a true Mt. (something I still have never done). Either way the view to get over to that area was crazy, the diving switchbacks required snail pace and it was okay to even stop for a second to glance out across the whole valley. Woah is all I can say...hence the awe part was easy to come by. Not hard either as I waded among the golden tall grasses on a hillside en route of my day hike. God makes it easy to praise Him if we just take the time to look around, to seek, to relish in it.
Well, this coming week is midterm week already, that's fast. But I am glad for it. Not that it's bad here, not that I don't enjoy treating the patients and being immersed in such a different culture, but I've realized it's not my deal. After being given the chance to do a modified ortho eval on a patient in the hospital for various reasons I was super excited and wanted to be able to help and knowing how to help and that I could get creative and work on more than bed mobility, transfers, gait, and in bed exercises! The light bulb went off and it was clear that I loved OP ortho. My brain was and has been seeking to utilize all the PT hands on stuff, develop relationships more than two days in length, and etc, etc.
It might not be infinity that I'm headed to, at least not yet. One day, and I'm ready I tell you. Whenever God says, I'm there spending eternity for beyond infinity with all believers praising Jesus...and it truly doesn't get any better than that.
I bet, I'm willing to put my new set of jacks on it, that there will be no mountain bike crashes in Heaven. I've bit it my fair share in the midwest, on the west coastal region. It's safe to say the west hurt the worst, still does in fact as I type my thumb has a slight throb to it. They have dryer dirt here, faster downhills, and harder rocks (well that might not be true) you put them all together and it's a bad combination.
Did I mention the dirt...we're talking make your shoes hazy tan...my hiking shoes were gray, now their tan...my running shoes, were white, now tan...my new run and hike combo black shoes, now grey with a tan overlay...the semi-arid climate helps describe it, not quite desert, not quite the opposite. It's only partly, well this so happens to be the dry part of the year as well, and did I mention they are in a 2 year drought as well. No wonder the fires rage. In fact this a.m. as I ran along the dirt trail the ranger had to turn everyone around b/c they were closing the trail due to a small fire that had started last night and was luckily put out before it spread like wildfire, literally. So, moral of the story, buy black socks and don't care if your stuff is dusty. Or be like me and just have brown socks that used to be white:) hehehe...too bad the dark legs don't stay as dark as right after a hike/run (it washes off) sela vi (no idea how to spell it, but sound it out).
Alright, over and out, time for bed.