The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Jean-Dominique Bauby

This is a book literally told by a blink of an eye. The author lives with the devastating reality of locked-in syndrome. Locked-in syndrome is when the body cannot move or function, but all the higher brain functions are in intact. This happens because of a large stroke in the base of the brain that essentially destroys the roadway in and out of the brain. The patient is alive but 'locked in' the body. It is an awful reality (in my humble opinion) and one that I had to watch unfold in my very care.

Early in 2009, on a travel nurse assignment in Greenville, NC, I personally took care of a 23 yr. old guy with the same diagnosis after a large stroke of his pons. It was an emotional and fragile process as I translated a very rare condition to his friends and family. As a nurse, many patients filter through my life and the ones that stand the test of time tend to have made some major mark on my heart...him being one of them.

I was led to read this book because, at the time, I recommended it to the family as a source of education on 'locked in syndrome', but had never read it myself. The author, being locked-in himself, when he 'wrote' this book, transcribed letter by letter by blinking his left eye. It took months to write this 132 pg. book, but knowing the effort it took to 'write' it makes it an amazing read. The story line is a bit disjointed, more like commentary on his present reality and memories that he reminisced on.

I feel like I gained a reinforced perspective from reading it. It gave me greater empathy towards patients that aren't able to communicate their needs and a flood of gratefulness that I am whole. I recommend it for anyone needing a reality check that whatever their problems are, surely they aren't as bad as they seem.

"Far from such din, when blessed silence returns, I can listen to the butterflies that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. This is astonishing: my hearing does not improve, yet I hear them better and better. I must have butterfly hearing. " - The Duck Hunt, p. 97

"...but this man [ophthalmologist]--who spent his days peering into people's pupils--was apparently unable to interpret a simple look. With a big round head, a short body, and a fidgety manner, he was the very model of the couldn't-care-less doctor: arrogant, brusque, sarcastic-the kind who summons his patient for 8:00 a.m., arrives at 9:00, and then departs at 9:05, after giving each of them forty-five seconds of his precious time." - Voice Offstage, p. 54

A few of my smiles this week have been because...

I've recently had a spell where I feel like I'm not as grateful as I should be. I feel like a little bitch-- but I've been told that I'm being too hard on myself(?). I sincerely want to live each day with wide eyes and a grateful heart, so I've now embarked on a personal challenge to take note of what makes me smile everyday in hopes that with a smile an even more grateful heart will follow.

Here are a few from this week: the simple beauty of a tiny birds nest outside of Elizabeth's window, garden fresh, homemade pizza -- made with
equal amounts love & leftovers!, the hairstylist who reminded me that it takes more than just writing down goals to accomplish them, my biggest compliment: "Stephanie, You're pretty dynamic. " (coming from a pretty dynamic guy himself), the act of mowing the yard giving me the biggest thrill b/c I love the straight lines, cooled canned goods, Mom's excitement to have movie night- just she & I, how sincerely excited (bordering on a very flattering ecstatic state) a lifer-friend of mine was to hear that I'll be in Columbus for a few months, reading on the swing on our back deck, Lady Gray, the fresh zinnias Mom brings home every week from the garden.
...and so much more. I love what makes me smile.
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I always love recommended reads, so here goes with what is filtering through my world these days.... (note: not all of these are recommended)

The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse by Louise Erdrich

Wow, what a read! Definitely one that you have to make space in your head for each and every time you read it. I was told that Louise Erdrich was a legend (in her own right) so I was v. excited about reading my inaugural Erdrich book. It was good, don't get me wrong, but not one of my absolute favs. PLOT: A priest on the Objiwe Reservation is killed and another comes to take his place. It is the stories of multiple families over centuries--loves, deaths, betrayals, loss, sickness...and a parallel story of the 2nd priest's battle over his 'secret' of being a woman and living with the choice to be a Catholic priest and hide this fact his whole life.

What is the whole of our existence but the sound of an appalling love?

On the Road by Jack Kerouac

Since last summer, I have intended to intersperse a 'classic' (of some sorts) as an every-other-book read. After the Erdrich book, Kerouac's book fell into my lap from a hostel in Turkey. I had been meaning to read this book for a super long time because it represents a whole era that I've not read much about. While on the one hand, it was definitely one good to get under my belt (for no other reason that to make me a good conversationalist at a dinner party!), it was not as awesome as I had hoped. The whole book was just one long, uninterrupted experience of a couple of knot-headed guys traipsing all over the US. I guess I could relate b/c my brother could totally be one of these guys, but in actuality, I thought most of what they did was pretty lame. A must read but don't expect not to be able to put it down.

“They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn…”
- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 1, Ch. 1

“I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was — I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds.”
- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 1, Ch. 3

Going on my 2nd week at home and it has meant..

91.1 WFUV-"world class music", yard work, canning tomatoes, figs, and pears, new ideas, lots of driving/alone time, football season hype, impressionable life lessons, new bedding, deep sleeps = nightly vivid dreams!, overcast days, family time, watching the bird feeders, art shows, lots of cooking, NPR, dove hunts, charlie-horses in the morning, routines, a-letter-a-day, kicked puppy dog syndrome, re-connections and 'I'm sorry's', never-ending errands, library days, "Being present in the present", new Ipods, P90X, making time for those that matter, eggplants, running, birthdays, living a beautiful & blessed life

Good Times in N'awlins

Rock climbing. Bike Rides. Sun time. Cooking Out. Good wine. Bonding. Sleeping Late. Big Breakfasts. Hurricane Katrina devastation-still!. Grilled Grouper. Reminiscent times. Realignment. Picking fruit.




Great weekend with my sister and her boyfriend + his family. Lots of memories. Lots of new stuff.

Not even a week yet and being home has meant...

investment planning with dad. fresh salsa & guacamole. bucket loads of fresh tomatoes that I cook with daily. my french press & coffee grinder. at times, feeling lonely. bike rides. rock climbing. running on familiar routes in Southside. loving and hating the way that 'nothing ever changes'. iced tea. sushi. sailing. warm puppy dog lovin' in the mornings. clean clothes. haircuts. respecting the cute old farmers at the farmers market. bottles of good wine. red beans & rice. afternoons with mom around the house. finishing books. loads of opportunities. future planning. reminiscing over wonderful summer memories. taking care of business. unpacking. big fluffy beds. hanging clothes on the clothesline. missing my best friend. embracing my small town friends and family. unexpected changes. quality sister time. juicy watermelon. writing letters. questioning my direction. fresh tomato soup. giving into a gluttonous magazine addiction. desiring a mentor. having a kitchen to cook in. candlelit bath times. having my car. fresh flowers from the garden. deodorant that works. 80 degree MS weather. hummingbirds. spontaneous mid-afternoon rain. homeade cottage cheese & tomatoes.

For so many reasons, I'm glad to be in MS for awhile. It's great to be around great friends and an amazing family who love me unconditionally. I feel changed, although I can't really tell you how; I've learned a lot, although I can't really tell you what. A lot of the dust that was stirred up this summer will inevitably settle leaving the lessons I learned behind. I yearn for that moment to be able to conscientiously articulate who I am now after such an epic adventure. Until then...I am taking it day by day, trying to dodge as many probing questions as I can as I figure out 'what's next'. Slowly, I will make my rounds, seeing all the old and familiar faces that I know care about my summer adventures. Until then, it's kind of interesting to see who even knows I'm back in the country! A wise man once told me : " You can count your best friends on one hand. "

Making It Count in Morocco.

All I can say is Wow! ... What a trip it was for me to this amazing place called Fez, Morocco. Literally felt like coming home...and, I'm not totally sure what that really means right now, that's just how it felt.

I had the first two days to travel away from our port, Casablanca, and more into the country of Morocco. Originally my goal was to get to a rural place called Chefchaouen, but alas time constraints kept me from doing the 8 hour trip and instead I chose to go to Fez based on recommendations from Dr. Waldron. "Stephanie, You'll totally love it!" he exclaimed for the 5 days sailing from Egypt to Morocco (little did I know how right he would be!).

The morning we docked, I quickly jumped off and took the first train to Fez train with a great couple from the ship: Rocky & Shaun Rohwedder (check out his super informative & insightful blog) and their adorable 3 yr. old Ryder. It was a 3 hr. train journey to the city, which put us there late afternoon on the 1st day.

From the moment we stepped off the train, things just seemed to fall into place for us. Josephine Kwan, the owner and operator of the dar where we stayed, agreed to meet us at the designated gate (entire city has a wall around it with many entrances into it) to lead us to our dar.

While there I learned that a dar is a typical small Moroccan house, and a riad is a larger one with a garden in the middle. Dar El Hana was absolutely the quaintest, cutest, most welcoming of all the places I'd been to this summer and immediately I felt the good energy of the place. Josephine invited us all up to the top terrace of the house where we sat around with Moroccan beer, wine, olives and nuts chatting away until we were all confident that new friends had just been made.

Josephine is originally from Melbourne, Australia (ironic). She came to Fez 4 years ago on an extended holiday w/ her partner, and by the 2nd week had bought this house and a year later, after extensive remodeling, opened it as a guesthouse. She initially spoke no French, no Arabic, but seems to have-against all odds-managed as a non-native woman in a partly Muslim country. Impressive. Her stories were fantastic! and her love for Fez poured out very naturally. After only a couple of hours there, I could easily see why she hadn't left.

The next day, Josephine arranged for us to have a guided tour through the ancient medina with "the best of the best" tour guides, Hakim. She was right; He was definitely an amazing guy. Studying now for his Phd in the history and significance of the Sacred Heart Musical Festival (local in Fez), he was smart, articulate, knowledgeable on all aspects of the medina and the city, as well as pretty damn witty. Combination = great afternoon learning lots from a great guide.

He hussled and bussled us through an endless maze of winding alleyways in the medina. This medina is believed to be the largest car-free urban area in the world. It was huge!! It has not changed for centuries. Its narrow alleys house hundreds of merchants and craftsmen selling a range of products such as dates, fish, spices, copper urns, carpets and musical instruments. The narrow alleys are busy with local people and tourists brave enough to find their way through the maze.

Throughout there were donkeys and horses transporting all sorts of goods. They came barreling through and it was easy to be run over unless you were paying attention to "Balack! Balack!" (translation: Arabic for 'get out of my way!')

One of the most interesting sites in Fez was the Leather Souq and the oldest leather tannery in the world. The tannery dates back at least nine centuries. When approaching the tannery the smell is the first suggestion that something different is about to appear. The smell drifts around the balcony from where all the activity can be viewed and is enough to put off the most enthusiastic of tourists. The stench is worth braving as the view over the balcony allows those watching to see a site that has not changed since the 11th century. They gave us sprigs of mint to smell as we watched all the action below.

The tannery is composed of numerous stone vessels filled with a vast range of dyes and various odorous liquids. The tannery processes the hides (skins) of sheep and goats, turning them into high quality leather products such as bags, coats, shoes, slippers and other similar products. This is all achieved manually, without the need for modern machinery.

The workers stand in the stone vessels arranged like honeycombs, filled with different dyes, dying the arms and legs of the men. The hides are first soaked in diluted acidic pigeon excrement and then transferred to other vessels containing vegetable dyes such as henna, saffron and mint. When the dying process has been completed the hides are dried on the roofs of the Medina.

Have a look at what I saw while listening to the call-to-prayer (make sure your volume is up!). It was an awesome moment.





I found this diagram which gives a visual of the process:

(Thanks to www.technologystudent.com)

It was an absolutely amazing process to witness, along with an impressionable view from above. Interestingly, the Amazing Race had stop in this tannery where a clue was hidden in one of the vats. The guys there were very proud to talk about this!

I came back to the ship to accept the medical call beeper and did what I could in Casablanca the last two days. The largest mosque in North Africa is here, which was so beautiful to see and experience from the inside. One thing that I've grown to respect is that no faces of people or animals are represented in mosques....as opposed to all of the Christian icons that adorn church sanctuaries. Without the multitude of 'important individuals' surrounding worship, it somehow made it feel more direct to the God above. I liked that.

So much to capture of a summer of adventure & fun. I'm still letting it all settle in and will finish off this summer when I can. Until then, I'm out of words. Thanks for keeping up!

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The trip ended with this port, so an Atlantic crossing is currently my reality! I arrive back to the mainland August 22nd. See some of you then.

Morocco Video

If a picture is worth a thousand words, what's a video worth??

http://vimeo.com/6080394