I Am Alice

This is long, but it's fun. Remember the days when you could lie down anywhere and drop into deep slumber in a flash? Maybe you're still there, but it is a dim memory for me. Going to bed lately has become a major project, every night. The older I get, the more vital sleep seems, but the more evasive it becomes, and the more creative I have to get to catch and retain it. As if the old routine of turning off the house lights and securing the doors, getting undressed, brushing the teeth, washing the face, and saying the prayers weren't enough, my aging, scarred body has gradually demanded more and more preparatory measures. Machines and devices have aided the capture and maintenance efforts, but have prolonged the nightly preparation.

For some time now, I have been using therapeutic stockings for varicose veins. Taking them off nightly is a chore. Also, you know those old guys with ear and nose hairs that look like they might take over? Well, about age 55, they start showing up. So, I have added plucking to my nightly routine. Also, speaking of ears, I seem to have inherited Arvilla's tendency to loose hearing with age. I procured some hearing aids some time back, and although I've had a hard time making them a habit, when I do use them, they reauire cleaning and charging at bedtime.

Then there's the bladder which has become ever more sensitive, a fact exacerbated by my burgeoning prostate gland which guards the door and enforces a stingy emigration quota, preventing complete evacuation. So it's not long before bladderville is overpopulated again. So I've learned that going potty just one last time will allow me to sleep maybe 3 instead of 2 1/2 hours before the attenuation wakes me again.

Then, as most of you know, I have been using a C-PAP machine for some time to maintain sleep. It allows only nasal breathing, necessitating a whole nother list of minutia to assure open nasal passages all night: cleaning and filling the humidity chamber, netty pot saline flushing of the nasal passages (Mom got me started on that one and she's got her own routine you'll have to ask her about,) using various sprays to prevent congestion, applying Breath-Rite nasal strips to optimize air flow, and fighting with the C-PAP tubing in the dark so it stays untangled all night.

I have also discovered that if I modify the mattress just so, my back won't hurt in the morning. so, before hopping into the sack, I have a series of 6 different pillows that I arrange in just the right fashion to keep me stable all night. I know you all think i'm crazy, but you just wait. You'll get yours some day. Anyway, all I care i that it works. Then, after getting into bed and donning the C-PAP, applying various eye drops helps minimize drying eyes through the night.

Finally, I get laid down, usually to realize at least once, that I forgot something, so I have to get up and take care of it before I at last get to sleep. That's the routine I have been pursuing for the past several years, and it's worked well generally. Of course, these many steps have been added gradually, and they've worked so well that I hadn't really considered their abundance, until lately when substantially more minutia has by necessity, been added to the routine all at once.

Subsequent to the hand injury, I now have a long list of therapy exercises to do each night. Then there's the night splint to be applied, followed by the foam protector to keep the hand elevated. I've also just added a bone-growth stimulator which velcros around the fingers and produces a magnetic field to help the bone heal faster. It has to be worn for 10 of every 24 hours, so it's usually worn through the night.

That's not all. Some of you may have noticed a new whitish cast in my left eye. It's the remnants of a cataract that developed from a childhood injury and then showed up again after I was hit in the eye by a chord while remodeling Grandma's house last winter. It's no big deal because the vision in the eye was already bad, but the appearance has become a distraction for people I talk to, e.g. my patients. So, I went to an ophthalmologist to see if it could be removed, but he suggested the simpler option of a cosmetic contact lens. They take a photo of your normal eye and use it to fashion a look-alike full-eye lens that you then put over the repulsive one. Sounds good to me, so I'm ordering it this week, and when I get it, then I will have to add "taking out my glass eye" to my nightly routine.

It was this last item that finally exposed my pitiful lot as it perked a childhood memory of scout camp where we would sing songs around the campfire at night. The particular song I remembered deals with a pathetic soul named Alice. The lyrics listed below (as I remember them) go with the tune on the you-tube video of a bunch of Scotsmen singing their own version of the same song about some wretched wench named Sadie.

As you watch/read, imagine a bunch of boy scouts singing this around the campfire, right after they sang another song about boogers or farts, or whatever. This is about as good as the entertainment gets lately, so enjoy! And, by the way, never get old!!

Dad

After the ball was over,

Alice took out her glass eye,

Put her false teeth in some water,

Hung up her wig to dry,

Put her peg leg in the corner,

Hung her tin ear on the wall.

There wasn't much left of poor A-aaa-lice

After the ball!

Seriously Blessed

I have to say that I have the best brothers anyone on this earth could possibly have. You are all aware of David's recent brush with the table saw. At the Emergency Room, actually before I even entered, I called my brother Gerald (far right) and asked him to call my uncle (David, Larry to some but not to the original Christensen clan)) to come to the hospital to give David a blessing. I didn't have any details, but I knew he needed a blessing. Soon they both arrived and gave David a wonderful blessing. Gerald and Donita stayed at the hospital with me until we knew what was going to happen (Life Flight to SLC, since there were no hand surgeons available in Pocatello or Idaho Falls and the Life Flight nurse just happened to be a member of our Stake Presidency. Isn't it interesting to recognize the Lord's hand in our life?). I was getting ready to drive myself to SLC at approximately 12:30 a.m. I convinced Gerald that I would be fine. He called me a short time later, or maybe it was Donita, and no, Gerald really didn't think I would be fine alone. He drove with me to SLC, relating much of the Priesthood Session, and just casual conversation that kept me awake and relatively relaxed. My brother Scott (far left) received a call around midnight asking him to please go to the University of Utah Medical Center and meet the helicopter, so David wouldn't be alone there. He, of course, willingly agreed, and was soon on his way, and was there when Life Flight landed. They both stayed there keeping us all relaxed. They were with me, pretty much beside me, every step of the way until David was wheeled into surgery. No girl ever had two better brothers. Who else would willingly drop everything to come to my aid? Who needs sisters when you have brothers like these? They have set the sibling bar pretty high. I love you both with all my heart. Debby

Weekend Photos

After visiting the National Mall (and seeing some doomsday people), the museum for Natural History and some pretty amazing solar houses,


we got to have dinner with the Suttons in their apartment. We met all the neighbors because Asher decided to go say "hello" to one of the next door neighbors and he introduced his wife and the other neighbors. It is really lovely. ALL the people that live in the complex are also temple missionaries. It must be a fantastic experience!










Asher loved Grandma and Grandpa and (yes) he was fascinated by the boo boo. It would make me cringe every time he made a grab for the dressings, but apparently the fingers are wrapped well.










Asher discovered butter for the first time ever. He was so shiny afterward. It was fun.











This is a lovely lamp post outside the temple.













Valerie kicking her heels up.

See for yourselves

Alex sent me these and I wasn't sure if anyone else got them, but here are some pictures of dad-dad-daddio's hand.

Happy happy birthday, Mommy dear

What would the Croshaw family be like without Mom?

I think we can all agree we're glad to have you around! You keep us all connected and you inspire us all with the way you live your life. And to boot, you're a COOOOL mom! I hope this year all of your wildest birthday wishes come true. Happy birthday!

xoxoxXoxOoxoxx

(Please forgive the limited photo selection. I had to work with on-campus options.)

News on Dad.

Just out of curiosity why have we not heard anything here on Dad?

80 hour work weeks are for the birds.

At the hospital I was working (or living) this month, the gift shop I walked by several times a day had a plaque that said "Hard work must have killed someone". After last month, I am inclined to believe it. I am very glad I had the experience, but I am also very glad it is over. I gotta tell you though, it is amazing the different ways people get hurt. I mean, what is a 55 year old man doing playing on a stripper pole anyway? (By the way, he broke his back) You can see some very cool things in the middle of the night at a trauma center.

Here are some things I learned:
I can see now why people argue against guns, especially handguns. Maybe tighter control in getting a gun isn't such a bad thing.
Alcohol and driving STILL should never mix.
Motorcycles = badness, especially if you are dumb enough to ride them without a helmet, especially if you are drunk.
Driving fast doesn't seem as fun as it used to.
Anything can be used as a weapon.
Being able to walk and move all your extremities are a bad thing to lose.
The brain is a terrible thing to waste, especially to any of the above.
Old people should not fall. If I live to be 80 I am just going to stop walking.
You don't ever want to have a breathing tube in your neck, trust me.
You also don't ever want to be fed through a tube in your abdomen.
Bicycles are not safe if you are old or drunk, even if you think you are being responsible.
You don't ever want to be run over by an 11,000 pound tractor, seriously.
Seatbelts are still a good idea.
If any of you think you are ever getting a motorcycle, you have another thing coming. I will not allow it.
Any of the above are extremely tragic, but they are also really cool and a necessary evil for medical education.

I remember why I stopped wanting to be a surgeon. 80 hour work weeks suck. If you were wondering why you didn't hear from me, (especially my wife and kids), now you know. I'll tell you some cool stories sometime if you want.

Colin

Random

For Dana for the family missing their missionary















Asher on grandma and grandpa's stairs all dressed up for church








I wanted to post these about 6 weeks ago, but I downloaded them on Valerie's laptop and I forgot about it all... until tonight.



Here is one from this week: Valerie is taking up piano again. We are hoping it goes better this time.
Do you know about last time? She was in from age 5-8 and learned from her school music teacher and that was fine... then I became a single mom and moved. My friend in my new singles' ward offered to teach her and they. butted. heads. It was not pretty. After 2 weeks of Valerei sitting at the keyboard, arms crossed for an HOUR (!!) 2 weeks in a row... I put a stop to piano lessons. And that, moms and dads, may very well be in your future.






I caught the reaction just after the "SURPISE!"


Finally. He cooks, he cleans, he plays with children and... he flies

An Interesting Twist and A Cute Baby

Now here is an interesting twist on an old product.

This is Crystal's favorite flavor of ice cream. Are there any feelings about this one?

Here is a video of our little slugger taking a few steps. There goes our little butt-ler growing up right in front of us.

CONTRABAND

OK everyone, regarding our recent junket to Vegas, here's what you've all been secretly waiting for -- the illicitly taken photos (on my cell phone) of Donny and Marie.

After Mom dragged me kicking and screaming into the concert, I actually had a good time after all - taking pictures, contrary to theater rules - NO PHOTOS! - and they mean it.

This of course, is the lovely Marie - moves pretty good for a 50 year old woman with what, 5, 6 kids? And, she doesn't sweat as much as Donny. Due to my clandestine capabilities, I got this primo piece without being detected - note the low focal angle.

Next, the questionable figure of a man in the beam of light? No, it's not an angel as some of you might think, and as Michelle Wilde thought. It's Donny playing the piano and singing "Crazy Horses". Shortly before this, he actually hugged Michelle (wish I had caught that one.) She was in Heaven. I had to take this piece at a higher, compromised angle. Larry Kemp was supposed to have my back, but he must have been sleeping because the female bouncer blindsided me with a strong tap on the shoulder and a firm reminder of "the rule." She mercilessly berated me in front of the audience, but then let me stay, and keep my phone. Knowing they were onto me, I stayed low profile, phone in pocket from then on -- but too late, I had already gotten this hot item of Donny. By the way, copyright honor system applies here. If you black market these photos, I get a piece of the action.

Our camera was not terribly prolific on this trip, but we did manage to get a few other photos.

This is some fake gondola at the Venetian Hotel on The Strip. These boatmen sing and move their paddle around like they're doing something, but each boat is actually pulled by a tether that goes into a track at the bottom of the fake river.

And, last, but certainly not least, this is the lovely Debby contemplating shopping inside the mall of the opulent Venetian Hotel. I'm sure she considered getting me one of the Rolex watches from one shop, but the price tag (a mere $17,000) scared her away. We're pretty good window shoppers in places like that. Sorry about the blur.
That evening, walking back to our off-Strip Marriott, we happened onto a CSI unit (the real one) investigating a hit and run/attempted murder of a bike cop right there on The Strip. Mangled his bike, but he was OK. He fired 6 or 7 shots at the perps, but they got away. I was disappointed that none of the people from the TV show were there.
Overall, a good time was had by all.

THE END