hard drive wipe out

While we were surfing today, HP was conspiring against us.

Our computer failed to boot properly...some corrupt file. After a diagnostics test that turned up nothing, it offered us the option of an F10 systems recovery. The caveat said we'd have to reinstall updates but our files would not be affected.

WRONG.

Everything is gone. Every little thing disappeared.

The last time I backed up our system was April. I should have done it more often, but I should also clean my car, read more radiology, buy some more deoderant, hire a personal assistant.

This sucks big time. Our Costa Rica vacation and any other photos we snapped since April, along with our documents, iTunes, whatever, were released into cyberspace.

Wipe out.

on to cano negro

So..as I mentioned in the last blog, on day 2 in Arenal we woke up to howler monkeys at 5am (I thought we were being attacked!! I nudged Isabel, but she was not interested). We boarded a large van with other folks and headed to Cano Negro Wildlife Preserve on the border of Nicaragua. The drive up was a true look into the 3rd world country we were visiting: houses with dirt floors along the way, school kids and random dogs running amuck. Our first stop was a small roadside cafe with iguanas all over the place. Who knew that iguanas live in trees? Weird. We drove on...Very hot and very poor. We finally reached our destination out in BFE and boarded a small flatboat. We trolled down a river through the preserve and saw monkeys, sloths, jesus lizards, caiman, bats on trees, etcc... check out the photos

Back to Costa Rica.....so we spent the 2nd and 3rd nights in Arenal. The first night we saw the volcano as I mentioned. That night we met the greatest frog ever..after we spent hours in hot springs. The hot springs were great, and it was fun to ascend pool to pool up to the hottest springs..Unforgettable...the waitress pulled that frog off the wall in the kitchen. Holy National Geographic..

The second day we headed for the border of Nicaragua with a few young guides (very entertaining guys!!!!) to float down a river in Cano Negro, an awesome wildlife refuge. Along the way we saw some interesting things, most notably a cafe completely invaded by local iguanas. They live and thrive in trees...who knew????

Arenal, Costa Rica

Okay...so back to Costa Rica. As I mentioned before, we spent several days in Arenal near the most active volcano. We highly recommend Hotel Nayara, by far the best hotel we have ever visited. We arrived and our nice host Johnathan pointed out some howler monkeys in a tree just outside our cabana. Isabel got some great pics with her new camera of the volcano at night during our guided tour. The restaurant at the hotel was great!!!!! And we enjoyed a typical tico breakfast each morning there (rice, beans, plaintains, eggs, and salsa).

e equals m c squared

Geoff is doing an excellent job of filling you in on the interesting points.

So, that leaves me the luxury of wallowing in my own obsessive experience: studying for the Boards.

Today I was complaining about our perpetual fate with one of my study partners, a Cally-bred Persian guy whose LA syntax does little to promote his true intellect. "Right, dude?!" he replies. "It totally blows."
How can it be that we are in our thirties and still cramming like a teenager for a big test? (Or maybe at least like a nerdy teenager?!)

That explains the acne.

In one month, every 2nd-year radiology resident (and anyone who failed on prior attempts) will take the Physics Boards. We learn and must prove we know how these images are made and what sequellae their acquisition has on our patients. Good stuff.

Cheezy (that's what I call him) complained "Why won't they just leave me alone?!" In his Garbo-esque exclamation, he captured the essence of our plight: How is it that we've jumped through every ridiculous hoop and still they give us more? When will it end? And to add insult to injury, they require us to fork out thousands of dollars for the privilege....

Even so, there is something really wonderful about being forced to plunge yourself into the physical world on a particle level... there is something satisfying and miniscule and surprising about it. Sometimes it is better than fiction.

There are the romances, the Bremsstrahlung spectrum produced by a rambling electron as it is drawn towards a nucleus, its path deflected by an irresistable pull that gives it pause. In its deceleration, it emits quite an electromagnetic rainbow for anyone who is watching.

And then there are the dramas...for instance, when a positron collides (miraculously!) with its infinitesimal opposite, the electron: the interaction obliterates the two, producing, in their place, two gamma rays of exactly 511 keV in perfectly opposite directions. And guess what those physicists call it? ANNIHILATION RADIATION!!! They must be existentialists at heart....

Now, if that isn't poetry, I don't know what is.

We arrived in Arenal, the most active volcano in CR, about 12 noon or thereabouts and were introduced to the most beautiful accomodation of our entire trip. A sprite young tico named Johnathan greeted us at Hotel Arenal Nayara. This place was amazing!!! The lobby of the hotel was outstanding...the colors wow.. There are 20-30 cabanas with outdoor showers and deck jacuzzi's. There is a swim-up bar, pet rabbits running amuck, and howler monkeys in the trees. We could have spent a week in this place alone. I had an awesome 38th (oh shit I am old) b-day dinner in the restaurant there. The first morning I was awoken by a loud grunting noise.....howler monkeys are CR's roosters....increible. Isabel was not that interested at 5am.

on to arenal

So...and I apologize greatly about the lag...day 2 in Costa Rica involved boarding a small van with a couple from NY and heading for the volcano!!!! We quickly learned that A) roads in CR just plain suck and 2) drivers of tourist vans love to stop off and fraternize with their compadres. We stopped at an open-air diner, I met some pidgeons, and we were invaded by 200 motos. Apparently motos attract the chicks...I should get one!!! Just kidding. I already have one.

paint it eggplant

Hello world...we have successfully had our house painted. Without realizing it we chose colors that match our purple ornamental grass. Here are some photos on a recent afternoon stroll...to the left you will find a very funny dragonfly perched atop an aloe plant. enjoy!!!!!!!!

San Jose to Arenal

Our accomodation in San Jose was very nice!! Hotel Gran de Oro was spectacular. I dove head first into Spanish, which I speak regularly in the clinic...but this time I could not bust into my daily canned-speeches about pediatric constipation. I was forced to actually communicate about rooms, taxis, and order meals; which is a different realm for me. I think I did okay, but Isabel bailed me out a lot. After a pleasant relaxing night in a quaint room and an awesome breakfast at the Hotel Gran de Oro (above pics); we headed for Arenal in a taxi with a few other folks...notably a young couple from NYC, who were nice enough to sell us a memory card for Isabel's new Canon Rebel XSi camera!!!

costa rica!!

Okay...it has been awhile. Anyway, we spent our birthdays and wedding anniversary in.......yes.....Costa Rica. We researched a bit on the internet and found that eco-interactive trips are all the rave. I found a wonderful guy named Kevin Peterson to set things up for us http://ecointeractive.wordpress.com/. So if you want an excellent trip, we highly recommend this pro. He is awesome and gave us the trip of our lives. We just so happened to run into Kevin on his return trip to CR from Seattle. He was on our flight heading out of Houston for San Jose, CR. We started off in San Jose at the Hotel Gran de Oro (above). We spent one night there before heading off the next morning for Arenal, the site of the most active volcano in Costa Rica

on being happy

One unanticipated side-effect of working at a hospital - and intensively on call - is that you face a lot of tragedy.

This fourth of July weekend wasn't so great for everyone in San Diego. Moments that are supposed to be whimsical or silly or romantic or nothing at all get brutally twisted around into profoundly life-changing or life-ending moments. What is a fourth of July then? It shrinks into something meaningless.

Or not?

On my way to work early this morning, there was a psychologist talking about her book on positivity. She had studied survivors of 911 in NY and found that those who did best were positive-thinking people. Common traits they shared were gratitude, awe, hope and a willingness to accept help from others. I thought about that. Tragedy isn't so unexpected when you work in a hospital. But it always feels like a senseless loss.

I think about these people, all twisted and broken. I think about their loved ones and their shock, their loss. And then I think about hope and awe and how easily they fill our hearts any time fireworks fill the night sky.

Second-Year Moles

I've sat down several times now intending to write something, since it has been so long. But that is precisely the problem: I've let too much time pass and so much has happened that it is hard to know where to start or what to call it. I went to Vegas with Sesha, we vacationed in Costa Rica, our house got painted, and we had visits from Naila, my sister and my mom, to name a few things.

Geoff promises to blog about our trip to Costa Rica, so I'm going to touch on something really recent: my becoming a second-year resident on July 1.

There was no easing into this one. I had the distinction of being the first person in my class to take short call, which means covering all of the studies from 3 hospitals, including traumas, between 5 and 8 pm, bridging the hours between the time when everyone goes home for the day and the time when the night person shows up. Sounds benign, right?

RIGHT!!

I'll spare you the boring details, but it was something akin to leaning in to take a small sip from a fountain and instead meeting a column of water aimed straight at your gaping, wide-eyed, and horrified face. You're left coughing and sputtering, bleary-eyed and blabbering, hardly sure of what just happened or what is going to happen, unsure of how you'll recover.

My residency class is a good one, but even with all the time in the world to peruse a study, we're still weak from inexperience. I guess that's why we have at least 3 years ahead of us.... So take our baseline handicap and then add the elements of STRESS and VOLUME and voila! You have the makings of a perfect storm.

As radiologists, we pass our time in the darkness. Doctors rely on us to shed some light on the studies they order. I'm not even sure where the light switch is....

So, I've cautioned you all before and I'll say it again - STAY AWAY FROM HOSPITALS, most of all in July! Your radiologist may just be new second-year resident, all stunned and stupefied, pawing through the darkness like a helpless mole.

Stairs: the game

Mishka has been limping around for some weeks, and last time we went to the vet, she refused to tell us what hurt. We tried two weeks of anti-inflammatories and rest, but the limp worsened after one day at the Dog Park (my fault but she looked so pitiful, I had to let her go). I called for a follow-up appointment, which was yesterday afternoon.

After taking her on a run and a romp at the Dog Park to tire her out and make her stiff, Geoff took Mishky back to see Dr. Lewis. This time, she was able to elicit guarding on the physical exam and diagnosed her with elbow dysplasia (basically arthritis).

Mishka is now on chondroitin sulfate, a dietary supplement to the tune of $90/150 pills. We are not to let her jump off of places higher than 2-3 feet and we need to take it easy with the exercise. No more Fiesta Island, unfortunately for our poor puppy. She'll need anti-inflammatories for bad flare-ups. No need for an xray, though. Our vet is really reasonable and doesn't order things willy nilly. We like her.

It turns out our bed is above the height limit for Mishka. Since Mishky jumps on and off of it several times a day, we needed to find a solution. When we bought our bed set, it came with a little set of stairs which has ironically stayed on Geoff's side of the bed (like he needs it). Before we swapped out the regular box spring for the quarter-sized one, since I could hardly climb into bed, I needed the stairs to get up there. Now they just collect dust.

Last night I had 5 minutes free before dinner, so I called Mishka, got 6 little treats and we both headed for the bedroom. I was going to teach her to use the stairs. At first she was timid. She looked at me frustrated. Cautiously, she outstretched a paw. She let it rest lightly on the slippery step then cocked her head a little as if to say "REALLY?!" But I kept encouraging her. I held the treat out of her reach, so she'd have to step onto the step. She kept trying to lean out and snatch it in her mouth, which was hilarious. She looked at me like I was taunting her.

Finally, she took that step...then hoppity hoppity and she was down. Going up was much easier. In less than 5 minutes, Mishka was going up and down the steps reliably, basking in our effusive praise every time she did it. She wiggled her body around ecstatically, her long tongue wagging with her exuberant tail. She looked goofy.

So now our handicapped pooch has this new game called "Stairs," all made possible by her impressive canine intellect coupled with an intense desire to please us. Good thing her smarts don't clue her into the fact that this is really about as exciting as a handicap ramp.

Geoff and Specimen I

This may be the forty billionth specimen spider Geoff has captured, exterminated and presented to me for my perusal on a napkin. For extra points, guess what kind of spider.....

That's right, a BLACK WIDOW.

We live with gobs of them. And Geoff tracks and slays them down like the Crocodile Hunter. Then he gives them to me like a beheaded something your cat would proudly leave you on the doorstep.

Thanks, G.

Miguel gets some

Well, I don't blog much... but well... this is worth bloggin' about. Most of you know that I was destined to be a herpetologist at age 5 (my family knows). And then, I ran into other things: high school, girls, college, rock music, and pediatrics. Throughout all this time, I have been fascinated by snakes, lizards, frogs, alligators, and turtles. Weird..you say.

So my briar patch has been San Diego. I walk to my car daily and send lizards scurrying each morning. I love it. But then I met Miguel...the bad ass lizard. The man... The cheese... El Jefe.

Miguel and I exchange pleasantries daily near the mailbox. He is large, long, and different than the other lizards around the house. He is a Southern Alligator Lizard....the others are Fenceswifts (mere punks). Miguel is like a snake and nearly 16 inches long.

Three days ago, I returned for lunch from work and noticed a 2-tailed something running down the driveway. But it was simply Miguel and some other lizard like Miguel. I was afraid for Miguel, but their legs ran together and their hips churned together. Weird.

Little did I know that they were in love, or at least after Miguel had grasped her head in his mouth, did I know that they were "doing it" as you people say.

I have included a photo of Miguel and Penelope (as I call her) for your viewing pleasure. This sexual encounter lasted for 36 hours. And this is much longer than the Viagra commercials recommend.

snail party

It is a gorgeous Saturday morning - the skies are blue. I'm sitting on the couch with my laptop, doing some work. The French doors are open, and there's a little breeze coming in. G is outside, watering our garden, which gets even more spectacular as spring unfolds.

Geoff just paused, walked up to the doorway and, well, here's what he said:

"I don't know how they DO it?" I glanced up from my screen.

"I can be watering for 10 minutes and suddenly all the snails come out."

[pause]

"How do they KNOW?! I mean, does one snail say, 'Hey, y'all! There's a party goin' on right here. A celebration...'"

[Here is when Geoff starts to do a little dance and sing the first verse of Kool & the Gang's "Celebrate"...which he continues in fragments of verses in between words.]

"Seriously, how do they do it? I mean, they're supposed to be so SLOW!" Then he muttered something about "Snailapalooza" and wandered outside again.

These are the questions that baffle Geoff Abell....and how he expresses them to the world.

Wesli and Rylee...cute-o-licious!!!!

Trust Fall

Mishka has been limping for a few weeks now, so we took her to the vet last Saturday. She wasn't any more successful at figuring out what was wrong than we were. Mishka just looks at us blankly as we squeeze her muscles, flex and extend her joints and examine her paws. Nothing. If only she knew English.

Since her limp worsens after exercise, Dr. Lewis suggested we place her on strict rest and try a course of anti-inflammatory medications. Try explaining that to Mishka. The moment she slips outside, she scales the canyon like a little mountain goat, chasing lizards, the odd squirrel and sometimes something bigger.

This morning I was studying when I noticed Mishka's posture change. She was pointing, like a hunting dog, to something outside. My desire to please her overcame my better judgement, so I opened the door. Mishka bolted out at full velocity. We began knocking loudly on the windows, which usually brings her back, but not this time. She returned on the other side of the house, having encircled it. A Siamese cat scurried up the eucalyptus tree. That was the first time we saw her target.

Geoff panicked. "We're going to have to call the fire department or the police or something," he exclaimed, very seriously.

"Really?" I asked. I thought to myself that he had read too many Curious George books as a child. "It'll find its way down."

I wandered off to get the camera. When I returned, Geoff was standing at the base of the tree, arms outstretched, beckoning the kitty to join him in a Trust Fall. He was patient, but the kitty was distrustful. The Siamese peered down a couple of times to consider its options, raising Geoff's hopes, but then he thought better of it. When the kitty nestled into the crook of the branches to enjoy a little shut-eye, Geoff finally gave up.

Fifteen minutes later, after several half-hearted attempts to take the plunge, the Siamese cat dug its claws into the tree and scrambled down, half scaling and half free fall, landing on its feet. Geoff remarked that it served the kitty right for eating half of Juan Pablo (the cousin of Miguel, our front yard lizard, pictured below). But that's a story for another day.

death, twilight and time passing

Writing this blog is like writing in a diary...then strategically placing it where someone might find it. I don't know if anyone will read it, but I love hearing from you when you do.

It has been a long time since I have written. Geoff and I are totally absorbed in our lives. It is hard to imagine any space for anything else...things we want to do like surfing, museums, mountain biking, trips, kids...somehow we fill up every minute of every day. Even our down time feels full.

But life stopped one week ago today: my uncle Ron died.

Out of the blue, totally unexpectedly. He was there, then the door slammed shut. No negotiations, no more conversations. That was it.

Up until that moment, everything was rushing forward, relentlessly, as expected. Everyone was where they should be. I didn't think about it. Friday night I fell into bed, exhausted. The sun rose Saturday morning and I with it. I read physics a little then headed to the gym for the first boxing class of the day. I felt happy and vibrant and full of life. After class, I lingered for a while in the steam room, showered and put on clean lounge clothes. I stepped outside into a day that was spectacular even by San Diego standards. I reached for my cell phone to call Geoff, and that's when it hit me: too many calls from too many people.

The rest is a smear.

On the way back from the memorial in Houston, the flight attendant announced that there was some sort of technical problem and that we wouldn't have satellite TV. Oh, well, I would study. She came on the intercom a short while later to say that she had somehow gotten us free movies, instead. The chapter I was reading was interesting enough, but I couldn't resist.

I scrolled through the new releases - movies I had seen, movies I planned to see with Geoff. Then I saw it: Twilight, the teen sensation about vampires. Something G would never watch. Something I would never watch...except in that in between space of the stratosphere, where all things take on a layer of importance. At 30,000 feet, even the worst chick flick will make you cry.

I watched it...twice. The first time with my eyes scarcely glancing my book. Edward, the vampire protagonist, is hot. The scenes are cast in a dark, blue light that my tiny airplane screen could hardly transmit with appropriate contrast. Even so, I was somewhere else. The soundtrack is mesmerizing (the last song is by Iron and Wine, a band we first saw at the wedding of our friends Shawn and Laura). The second time it played while I read, and I only looked up at the best parts.

Since then, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

Not that it was that good. Watching that movie was like devouring a bag of Cheetos and licking the last bits of fluorescent orange goodness off of your fingers. Of course you love it. Your 12-year-old self loves it, imbibing all of the hope and tension and mystery of love while your 32-year-old self knows how it ends.

I googled the author: a 36-year-old Mormon mother of 3 boys who wrote the bloated 500-page manuscript in 6 months between shuttling kids to swim practice and waking up with her youngest in the night. It was like reading about the inventors of the Snuggie, something we actually own, thanks to my in laws...yeah, we actually love our Snuggies, too. A freakin' blanket with SLEEVES. Brilliant? Not exactly the light bulb.

How simple!! How perfectly formulaic! With my lifelong fascination with vampires and the obvious components of a preteen titillation, why the hell didn't I write it?

Whatever. Maybe I'll use all of that time sitting around during breastfeeding to write a preteen sensation. No, I'm not pregnant, but it doesn't hurt to plan. My friends who've had kids say they were bored out of their minds during that time. Better plan an escapist vacation for your brain....

All of this has sent me thinking about time passing. The time between 12 and 32. The time between feeling alive and suddenly dying. All of the time in between. The time we waste. The time we squander because we fail to recognize an opportunity. Or a last chance. The time we think we can't because there is no precedent.

I don't think my Uncle Ron knew his time was near, but something made him prepare for it. He reached out across big chasms, made his peace, drew people near. He drew me and my sister close. Differences between Ron and my dad had placed a rift between his family and ours. When my dad died, Uncle Ron reappeared. He tried to make up for lost time. He flew out from Houston for our wedding luau, even though it must have been hard. He called us, asked us about our lives, updated us on his. At his memorial, I realized I knew him. Amazingly, I had come to know this person who reminded me of so many of the good and quirky things about my dad, someone who, like my dad, I would lose too soon.

As inevitable as it is, death (like birth) can be so astonishing.