Troyer Reunion

My niece Jewel and I sat down yesterday and figured out some stats on the first ever Troyer Reunion happening now at my nephew Steven's place near Fort St. John, BC. We have 23 children here, age 2 months to 17. We are only missing age 2, 13, and 16! There are 22 adults. They keep busy swimming/hot tubbing, jumping on the trampoline, playing air hockey, basketball, Dutch Blitz, Spoons, and other toys. I have not heard one child whine and the only crying has been for minor injuries. I have not heard any fights and only observed one dispute that was brought to a parent for help resolving. What an amazing bunch of kids.

I have awakened the last two mornings to hear my husband and brothers laughing outside our RV. The days continue with lots of laughing and good food. I am feeling so loved and respected...shortly after we got here Steve told his children I used to be his favorite aunt when I was younger. Later conversation revealed that it perhaps had something to do with the birthday cards I used to send containing a dollar! I told him I had a new tactic to become the favorite aunt now and offered gum to his 14 year old son Stanley, who declined, saying he’d rather have a dollar! I love this family!

We really are missing our missing families - Dave, Doug, Tom, Hope and Linda! It would be even more fun with all of you! I'll post some pictures here later!

A Close Encounter

Yesterday a quest to find and photograph an orange lily wildflower turned into a heartstopping moment for me when I fought through an overgrown path along the creek at the picnic area where we had stopped and discovered this on the other side!

Wow! The mama bear and two babies were across the creek from me so I felt safe enough to take a few pictures before retreating back down the path to a safer distance. Most of the pictures I snapped didn't turn out so well because I was shaking! I had seen numerous warnings and instructions there at Jasper National Park about what to do if you have a close encounter with a bear. My personal favorite was "Speak to it firmly but calmly." But what are you supposed to say?! I felt no need speak to it! They all ignored me.

Will and I were there all alone, and we enjoyed watching them play, safely across the creek from us... and with our truck nearby!

Truly an experience to remember! There were no lilies there, but I found and photographed lots of them on a path we took today! The thrill of seeing the bears certainly overcame any disappointment about no lilies at that picnic area!

Reckless Over the Fence Ventures...

Oh Canada. How happy I am that we don’t have a river site tonight, because when we walked along the river, I discovered that the mosquitoes are so much worse down there than up here.

A few days ago we stopped to view Nooksack Falls in Washington. The first thing we saw was this large sign warning of extreme danger and "respectfully enumerating those known to have perished while visiting Nooksack Falls". Will observed most of the eight victims had something in common – they were males between the ages of 18-25. Pretty scary and very sad. The sign declared, "Without risking your life, it is not possible to get views of the falls that compare to the professional photographs on this display."

When we walked beyond the sign and looked over the fence, what did we behold but someone in that demographic, along with his female companion, busy taking pictures of each other with the falls behind them.

I squelched the motherly impulse to yell at them to be careful and get back up here right now. I also virtuously heeded the warnings and stayed on the appropriate side of the fence.

I am often disappointed with the quality of the pictures when they show up on this blog. This picture isn't supposed to be this dark!

Yesterday we were camped near Bridal Falls (in BC, not Oregon!). There was a warning signs there also: “Caution: Hazardous Area. For your own safety, do not proceed. Violators will be subject to fines, etc.” Many people were disregarding it and traipsing on up the steep hill to get a better view. I tried to take some pictures from the very unsatisfactory viewing point...then I stepped over to the other side of the fence to photograph these interesting tree roots.

Once on the wrong side of the fence, I was soon climbing the hill. The view was so much better there.

The worst part was awkwardly but carefully stepping down the steep slope, with the viewing deck full of people who would all witness it should I fall on my rear. In fact, Will had already seen one woman do that. But with my customary gracefulness, I made it safely down. As we started back down the trail, Will decided to take a fork in the trail heading up - and where should we end up but up as high as I had scrambled! Oh well, the rush from the risky behavior was worth it!

We later visited Hope and admired the view of the Fraser River and the many wood carvings all over town. Any resemblance between this guy and another one we know and love who uses a walking stick??

Everyone in this story survived the forbidden trips across the fence. But tonight many mosquitoes have made it into our fifth wheel in a risky venture of their own and they are not living to tell the tale! I haven't killed this many mosquitoes or had this many bites in years!

It's Over!

A successful outpatient surgery is a thing of the past and a great excuse to spend the next day just relaxing, reading, planning our trip to Canada. The doctor didn't have to go too deep or wide and there's not much pain today if I don't move around too much, so it's all good. I won't be going to any nude beaches any time soon but that shouldn't affect my lifestyle too much!

I had successfully blocked out of my mind the needle localization, and I'm glad I didn't realize I would have to go through that again. I was appalled when I was ushered into the chamber of horrors and the memories came back. I should have insisted they give me some happy juice before this procedure. This is no ordinary mammogram. This is a mammogram where you remain crushed in position, flattened horizontally then vertically, while the tech grabs the plate and runs out to develop it each time. Then they take some measurements from the picture, insert the needle, and take more pictures which need to be developed to make sure the needle is where it needs to be so that the surgeon knows just where to go. A digital machine would make this procedure so much easier, but apparently its outrageously expensive and not in the budget just now.

During all the waiting periods, I sat facing the corner of the room trapped by the nearly unbearable pressure of the mammogram machine, and it seemed odd to be making small talk with the doctor behind or beside me, out of my line of sight. The anesthesiologist even came in to introduce himself, standing behind me where I couldn't see him! Quite disappointing, because I really love those guys! After the needle was inserted, (OUCH!!!) I looked down and saw that it very thin and flexible, sticking up about six inches with a white flag attached to the end. I had to laugh, and I told the doctor about my dear artistic friend who recently had a large, nasty, but non-malignant tumor removed from her breast. She has some interesting breast artwork on her blog, and I bet she could do something really creative with a flag-topped needle sticking out of a flattened breast! Sadly, no one offered to whip out their cell phone and take a picture of it for me. A great art possibility lost forever. The last and most painful thing was another needle to insert some blue dye. They had the nerve to tell me that some people don't even feel it. I felt every stinging drop!!

We had to be at the hospital at 10:30. Will didn't get to join me in my room until I had gowned up, and when he arrived he was grumbling about his escort pointing out how dark he was. We came prepared with crossword puzzles - we work them very well together, and only had time to do one during the waiting time. At 11:30 I was taken to the mammogram chamber of horrors for an hour, then it was time for the surgery. Last time I woke up laughing uncontrollably, no such luck this time! We were back home a little after 4:00.

Will was kind enough to order pizza for dinner. When he opened the door, I heard the delivery girl say, "Wow, that's quite a tan you have." He replied, "Yeah, my wife doesn't let me come inside very often" She commented on how nice the yard looked. Like he got that tan from working in the yard! Apparently she didn't notice the boat! So if you see Will, make sure you comment on how dark he is or how big his dog's feet are. He just loves hearing both of those things! We spent a relaxing evening watching John Wayne movies from a collection Nick gave to Will for Father's Day. Westerns made in 1935 are funny!

I am very grateful to my friends and family who have supported me with their thoughts and prayers during this time. I also really appreciate all the excellent medical professionals who helped us through this whole ordeal. They inspired confidence and had a sense of humor besides. But after my follow-up doctor appointment on Tuesday, I hope I don't have to see any of them for a very long time!

Soon it will be over....

Hmmm. I want it to be a week from now. Then I will be past the worst of the recovery and eagerly preparing for our vacation to Canada.

Tomorrow is the surgery to take out the remaining atypical ductal hyperplasia. Back in January, a surgeon removed the core but didn't take out four margins that spread to unknown areas. These precancerous cells have a 50 percent chance of turning into cancer, but the surgeon's approach was, "We'll watch it and catch it early if it turns to cancer." I didn't really appreciate that attitude, and neither did two specialists I consulted with who prefer prevention to treatment.

I wanted to wait until all the busyness of the school year was over, and here we are already. I was pretty successful about putting it out of my mind with so many things going on, but the past few days it has been looming large in my mind. Especially because they don't know how deep or how far they will have to go to get it all out. The first surgery left me with a scar but no malformation. Will my good fortune continue?!

The past few days, I keep thinking about my mom and how she must have felt as her surgery approached. She was only 40 years old with 6 children still at home, the youngest barely 4 years old. She had no idea what would result from the lump on her breast before her surgery. She wrote that when she regained consciousness after the surgery, her first thought was, "Did they have to take it?" and feeling the bandages on her chest, realizing that yes, they did, and then praying, "Thy will be done." She had another surgery a few days later to take out the lymph nodes under her arms. The cancer was much more extensive than doctors had first thought. As a mother, I just can't imagine how awful that would be. For some reason, the past few days I think of her and get teary eyed, even though our circumstances aren't remotely similar.

Then last night I got unreasonably upset when I realized Will hadn't watered a flower bed, completely out of proportion to his transgression! But I realized the real problem was that I was feeling a little stressed about my upcoming hospital visit and I need to be careful not to take it out on the people I love! (Then again, he better just watch his step!)

This too shall pass. All around me are hurting people who are grieving lost loved ones or are suffering through health or family problems. It's only reasonable that I should have some small share of trouble. I just need to always remember to say, "Thy will be done" and leave it there.

Risky Evening Walks

Tonight's Facebook post: Amazingly, the gentle precipitation ceased 10 minutes into this evening's jaunt. I boldly faced my fears and overcame Post Traumatic Skunk Disorder (Thank you to Tori Oswald for diagnosing that for me!), even venturing to frequently walk backwards down Skunk Road to keep an eye on the brilliant rainbow that lit up the dark clouds in the east during the entire 45 minute walk! The cloud broke up and the sun was visible in the blue skies to the west. God has promised that it will not rain forever! Glory be!

I started doing Facebook updates after my evening walks on Tuesday with this one:

"When one valiantly overcomes the ennui occasioned by nonstop gray drizzly skies and marches forth on a brisk evening walk in spite of the additional excuse of pain in her feet, it's quite unfair that she receives a blow to her unsuspecting head from a tree branch, unseen due to hood-impaired vision. Quite frightening. Oh well, at least the beauty of the wild roses was glimpsed while peering out from under her hood."

I am considering looking for a Worst Writing Contest because I think that paragraph has potential to win!

Evening Walks are Fraught with Danger!

I thought it was bad getting ambushed by tree branches on last evening's walk, but tonight I was nearly attacked by a skunk. Yes, my legs are still trembling as I share this dreadful encounter.

First of all, that was no drizzle pounding on my hood. But I had to look up and allow my face to get rained on so that I could view the beauty of the rainbow in the dark gray eastern sky, as well as the varying shades of pink clouds as the golden sun sank into the blue skies to the west. I strode much further than I intended, enjoying the beauty of this spectacle in spite of the pattering raindrops. On my way back, I rejoiced as the showers let up slightly...and then I saw it.

An innocent looking little black creature with the tell-tale white stripe down its back, loping along the fence line and frightening the sheep on the other side of the road. Suddenly it veered toward me and ran in the middle of the road just ahead of me. I slowed my steps, and I believe it slowed also. Finally it continued to the side of the road ahead of me, its tail waving menacingly. I became extremely warm and had to unzip my coat. Was I going to throw up? My legs felt weak...I crossed the road, desperate to avoid the threat of eau de skunk. Finally, a long quarter of a mile later, or maybe it was a tenth, but it was a long tenth if that's what it was, the skunk disappeared into the grass of the field. I continued home unscathed. Sort of. But I'm either getting sick or I'm allergic to skunk because I still feel physically shaky! Weird, huh. No, I'm sure it's perfectly normal. And I'm not even going to try to edit this down to fit Facebook's stupid 420 characters for a wall post!