A month of Chaos
/Instead of starting this post at the beginning of our trip, I'm going to start with where the chaos started - with the ablations.
February 18th: unsuccessful ablation with very short recovery time
February 21st-27th: Josh in Germany for TDY
February 29th - SUCCESSFUL ablation! FINALLY! Really rough recovery for the next two weeks
The beginning of the bruise - my cardiologist had his full weight pressed on my artery for 30 minutes before Josh arrived and was able to relieve him - Josh pressed another 15 minutes before the bleeding stopped - this bruise started out as a nasty, poofy blob and then formed into this.
After it was obvious that it wasn't going to stop bleeding, we decided to start wrapping it. This was the result of that.
Pretty gnarly, huh! OUCH it hurt! Throbbing throbbing throbbing. I wasn't able to walk normally for two weeks and it finally resolved itself about 5 days into our vacation in the States. Took almost three weeks to go away. I still have a large, dark blotch on my right thigh from it.
Sunday the 6th was our last small group - I hoped to return and continue in community with these beloved friends, but the Lord knew otherwise. I'm so thankful we took the time to get this picture before everyone dispersed, but I'm bummed we were missing a few key loved ones that night who couldn't make it.
So, as a reminder (mostly for our memory) our original itinerary had us flying out of Adana on Friday morning. Then there was this:
March 8th: credible threat to our base that we live in - base moved into "Delta lite" security - off base flight no longer an option to get back to the states for the trip we'd been planning for 8 months - I was supposed to meet our furniture guy at the gate at noon and received a text from my friend Monica just minutes before leaving the door that I wasn't supposed to leave the house. I messaged Freedom Furniture and notified him that we'd have to cancel the long awaited (since the end of October!) delivery of our much anticipated bookshelf
- after a couple hours of scrambling to find alternate ways out of the country and several phone calls back and forth with the travel office and a few booked flights later, we had a plan B - and then Josh was told that we could indeed leave base - it just was going to be trickier than before. He called back and cancelled the military flights he'd book and all the following connecting flights and we went back to our original plan to fly out of Adana on Friday morning.
March 9th: another credible threat that moved us into full blown "Delta" - now getting into Adana for our flight on Friday was definitely not an option
Josh went back to work to spend a couple more hours getting us booked on a military cargo plane that was leaving and then connecting flights to the States. We were exhausted already, but excited that this could give us an extra day with our friends in Kansas City. - We said goodbye to Hatice this day, assuming we would be flying out the next morning, and it was painful. She and I had discussed the possibility, in our mixed spoken and body language way of communicating, that we may not see each other again - but tried to put it out of our minds.
March 10th: Josh had found a flight leaving in the afternoon that we might be able to catch - he called saying we couldn't get on but then called saying we could. The afternoon was completely insane as I tried to pick up where I left off and complete a two days list of to-dos in one afternoon. - Monica came over, before we'd found out that the flight would be routing through Iraq and wasn't an option, and she and I and Hatice all laughed in the kitchen together when Josh called to call off yet another flight plan. We sat and had tea and just enjoyed the quiet down time - there was just so.much.hurry. And hurry hurts.
There is a disconnect in here in my memory. I remember going to the terminal to catch a flight and then coming home and walking in to say hello to Hatice; that we hadn't been able to leave. I don't remember how it ties in, but it's in there somewhere.
March 11th: 4am - to the terminal to board a "hop" to Germany that Josh scheduled the night before - after 2 hours waiting in the terminal and the excited anticipation of the beginning of our vacation, the plane never left and was rescheduled for the afternoon - We came home and put the boys down for an early morning nap - I was hit with the worst vertigo attack I've had in years and was awoken from a nap (laced with two zofran and a full valium, that barely touched the nausea and spins) to Judah saying I needed to get out of bed RIGHT now and get into the van to go to the terminal. With a foggy brain and churning stomach, I was clueless as to how this was going to be possible. We discussed cancelling our seats on the flight, but knew it would be another week before we got out if we did that - Josh and Hatice helped walk me to the car and I laid on the benches in the terminal with a blue vomit bag in hand for 2 1/2 hours while Josh wrangled all four boys and ran back and forth to work to switch out a work laptop he was told he couldn't take with him (as we were ready to board the plane). He'd been asking them for 2 weeks to switch the computer but they didn't get around to it until we were checking in for our flight. - Plane was cancelled due to incorrectly filed paperwork by the flight crew. We returned home and put the boys down for a late afternoon nap. We went to bed early that night and got up the next morning to head back to the terminal.
March 12th: We checked stuff in, were encouraged by a plane that was guaranteed to leave the ground and waited around for the crew to finish their prep. The boys played out on the playground and I paced back and forth fighting fear of every blast sound I heard, knowing that my dear dear friends had houses facing and just yards away from the perimeter fence that had been threatened and knowing full well this could very well be the last time I would see this base. I just knew it, deep down. I soaked in the surroundings, relieved but profoundly sad. I sent one last "I love you" text to my precious friend Monica who had been asking if the flight was actually going to leave this time. WE were being hurried out of the terminal, so I'm not sure the text ever completed sending.
After a couple hours of waiting, we were led out to the C-17 and loaded up in the cargo bay, very much ready for our long time coming trip back to the States! We got the boys loaded and buckled and I walked to look out of the small circular window near the door we came in. I took it all in, saying goodbye and hoping, desperately, that my gut was wrong.
We landed in Spangdahlem , Germany in the late afternoon after a 5 hour flight and walking out of the terminal there and seeing something other than Turkish AFB brought me to tears. The freedom felt incredible, but there was also this sense that this would be my last time on this side of the ocean, for a long time.
We caught a shuttle to our TLF and nestled in for the night. It was huge and it felt good to have splenty of space to spread out for the short night of sleep - Josh loaded Luke in the stroller and jogged to the commissary that was about a mile and a half away, in the cold, to get food for dinner and breakfast - we were back up at 4am to eat early breakfast and head out into the brisk cold to catch a shuttle that would take is the two hours cross country to get to Frankfurt for our flight to the States. I was so bummed that my first taste of German countryside was going to be experienced in the dark and barely beginning light of dawn - the green rolling hills were barely visible.
When we arrived and began check in for our flight to States we learned that the flight we were scheduled for was going to arrive an hour late, so we'd miss our connecting flight into Kansas City. The next available flight would put us in 4 hours later than anticipated, and a total of 48 hours after we were originally supposed to arrive in Kansas City. We doddled in the airport for a while, fed the boys and people watched while waiting for our packed flight to board. The boys did wonderfully on the 9 hour flight, with the exception of the breakdown that Luke had in the last hour. He was just over it!
We landed in the States and had a 4 or 5 hour (my memory is quite foggy of all this) layover before our connecting flight to Kansas City, MO. We bedded the boys down in the USO (OH OH OH so thankful for the USO!!!). They took a hefty nap amidst the noisiness of the other USO visitors and we were relieved to have somewhat alert boys and we boarded our last flight.
Sunday, March 13 - 10pm: We FINALLY land in Kansas City, Missouri (48 hours after we were originally supposed to arrive) and are picked up by our precious friends from the island - the Pech's. We spent Monday and half of Tuesday with them picking up right where we left off when they moved from the island nearly a year ago. It was such a blessed treat to see them and it was so hard to say goodbye at the end of our very short 36 hours together.
Tuesday, March 15 - 1:00-4:00pm - drive to Wichita Kansas to visit two families we knew and loved while stationed at Eglin for residency. They were our community during our time there. We spend Tuesday evening having dinner with them, all day Wednesday catching up and checking out the Penny's house they are building and then Thursday morning left to drive the 8 hour stretch to Denver. We sure love those families! I took very few pictures and kick myself for it! Here's one of us with Dooley's at dinner and the other with all our families together again the first night we arrived.
Thursday, March 17th - Again, after a very abbreviated 36 hours with these dear friends we loaded back up in our rental van and made the long 8 hour drive to Denver. Josh's med conference started on Friday night and that was also when he was presenting a presentation that he'd been working on for weeks. During the craziness of the travel he had been finding a minute here or there to fine tune his presentation only to have his computer completely shut down and not start up while we were in Wichita at the Dooley's house. Philip Dooley is quite the tech wiz, but even he couldn't trouble shoot it into starting. All of Josh's work was gone and it looked like he'd have hours of work left to rebuild a presentation on the Penny's borrowed laptop that was very old and not very capable. He was communicating back and forth with Incirlik to try to get them to email his file to him off his old laptop (that was minus all the work he'd done on the presentation since leaving Turkey), but the file was simply too huge. Many many phone calls, emails and much sweat later the file finally came through after one of his co-workers went out of her way to take it to the library and load in onto a sharing network - the only way to get it to him. It was last minute and he had a few hours left to fine tune - it turned out fine and he was relieved to be done with the presentation!
We drove into Denver to find a snow storm that would leave 6 inches of snow on the ground that had whirled in unanticipated. My first thought as I saw the first flurries was, "Uh oh....we did NOT pack for this!" And then there was the excitement of seeing snow again for the first time in over two years! What a treat! We stopped at a Chic Fil A for dinner, knowing that we were arriving during rush hour, and watched the huge flakes fall. The food tasted wonderful. it was our first Chic Fil A in a LONG time! After finishing dinner we drove across the parking lot to a Walmart so I could run in and get groceries and hats and gloves and socks. I'm telling you, I did NOT pack for snow! Walmart was completely overwhelming and it took me forever to find everything I needed. It felt like a mall after the tiny commissary, bx and Turkish market I'd grown accustomed to shopping at for the past 8 months.
We arrive at our Air BnB in time to get the boys down for bed and debrief a bit before crashing into bed ourselves.
Our time in Denver was bustling with time with my side of the family, intermittent and unexpected vertigo attacks and figuring out how to navigate the snow in our inadequate wardrobe we'd packed. It was a blessing, but very tiring. Josh was gone much of the time at his med conference and I spent much needed time with my side of the family - I'd seen my Dad and Sister just a bit over a year ago when they came to see me in D.C. when I had my first ablation, but I hadn't seen my mom since Luke was born. OH how good it was to finally hug her!
I am so sad that I didn't get pictures with my Dad and Mel when they came to visit, or when Josh and I and the boys were able to have dinner with Drew and Sarah. We haven't been together with them as couples for.....I think we figured....4 or 5 years. Too long. That's all that matters. We had such a sweet time with them!
Part of the stress and pain of our time in Denver took part on that Saturday morning - I was readying the boys for a nap and prepping for a vertigo attack when I got a message from my dear friend, Monica, in Turkey. At the same time I received a Facebook message from a friend from small group. I knew. I just knew. They both wanted me to contact them as soon as I could. I put the boys to bed and took a few minutes to take a few deep breaths on the couch before calling Monica on FaceTime. I took a zofran and a valium as the attack worsened and cried with her on FaceTime and she told me that they'd been briefed to prepare for an ordered departure of all dependents within the next few days. This meant the boys and I would not be allowed to return to Turkey - and that I would not get to say goodbye to my friends - that I'd said my final goodbye to Hatice - that we couldn't go "home". We wept together as we talked through the details. We hung up, I texted Josh to let him know and laid down on the couch and wept for a long while. My Dad and Mel showed up while I was processing through the news - I was grateful they were there. The valium had taken the edge off the vertigo attack so I was able to be mostly functional to spend time with them. My Dad and I walked to Sprouts to buy some stuff for a fun dinner together at the house there - we chatted through prepping dinner and really enjoyed our time together. The rocking started again as soon as the table was set and we were sitting down to eat. I beelined for the couch and took another valium and zofran. My dad scarfed his dinner down and came over to the couch and knelt down and prayed with and over me as I let all the emotion of the day soak my face. It was a very very painful day and I was so sad that our time with them their was so overshadowed by the news and the fact that I had whirlybird head fog brain and was on the couch for a good portion of it.
My dad and I were able to catch breakfast together early the next morning and it was a blessed time, indeed. It was so good to catch a quiet hour with just him to talk about life and pray together. I sure do love and respect that man!
The plan had been to leave Denver on Tuesday afternoon after Josh's conference was over and head to my Mom's place in Idaho Springs for the night, but another snow storm blew it's way in and forced us to make the drive down to Grand Junction all on Tuesday. We spend an hour or so by the creek and checking out her and Bill's new house and then said our goodbyes and loaded up to head to Grand Junction.
Part of the hurry to get down here was to see if we could get stable enough in one spot for a bit of time to get these vertigo attacks under control a bit. We know stress and travel effects them, so it seemed best to get somewhere and rest. We talked on our drive down about heading back to Turkey early, since the ordered departure had not been releases yet. If we could get back in the country before it came down maybe we could have more time together (banking on it taking a few months like everything else in the military does). Josh kept saying, "nothing ever happens fast in the Air Force". We held out hope that first week that we'd be able to spend a week and a half or so here resting and then leave a week earlier than we'd planned to head back to Turkey and maybe get some stuff packed up to bring back with us and have time to get some closure, see Hatice and say goodbye and be in our community there one last time before being evacuated. That was the plan. It was stressful to think about, but we so badly wanted to get back before the OD came down.
The first few days in Junction were restful and quiet and then the pace picked up quickly as more family and cousins trickled in. Easter was bustling and the week following Easter we spent much time with Matt and Amy and there precious 3 girls, who'd driven down from Billings, MT to visit. Amy's family lives here as well, so they are able to visit everyone at once. We hiked, went sledding, swam and hit up the trampoline park - it was a fun week!
We were on our way back from sledding and were trying to decide for sure on a plan to get back into Turkey before the OD hit. We decided we'd spend the next week with Josh's parents and then head home a week earlier than planned. I was driving to avoid motion sickness, as we cut through switch backs on the mountain highways. It was just delightful out. Glistening snow, sun, pine trees, mountains.....
The cell phone rang and Josh answered it surprised to hear a friend and fellow doc from the clinic in Turkey on the other line. I didn't need him to tell me what the conversation was about. The announcement had been made at a meeting on base that the OD would be released from D.C. and to expect it the next day - to pack and prepare for last minute mass evacuation of all families on base within the next three days. My heart sank as he filled me on the details as he talked with Aaron.
There would be no final goodbye to our home in Turkey. No final goodbye to Hatice and our precious homegrown we'd grown to love to instensely. No goodbye to all the Turkish contractors that worked on base that the boys and I had spent so much time interacting with.
Just no goodbye.
I shed as many tears as felt safe as we continued slowly down the switchbacks. We pulled into the driveway just as he was hanging up with Aaron, and by then I was a weepy mess. We waited through the night and in to the next morning and were surprised at the news that the departure had no been ordered. We once again decided that we'd proceed with heading home that next Monday. Maybe they were wrong about the timeline. Maybe we could make home before it dropped.
The next morning we got the news that 3 "chalks" had flown out, last minute, with much of the base population riding in them. The evacuation took from Tuesday to Friday, Friday being the day that carried many of my precious friends away from the place we'd grown to love and call home.
I was simply heartbroken - it was all over. Just like that. And I couldn't be there to weep along with them - to hold them and cry together - to experience this all as a group, like we'd done with the rest of life for the past 8 months. I wanted nothing more than to just be there with them - to live this with them.
As we looked into the next couple of weeks we realized now was the time to come to grips with the painful reality that Josh would be returning to Turkey without us. He came to bed weeping one night after staying up late to read OD paperwork and what it entailed for us staying behind. He kept saying over and over again, "I just don't know what to do". He wanted so badly to fix it, but there was simply nothing to fix. We laid in bed wrapped up together and cried hard. He was so broken and I was so relieved to see him broken. Before that night he seemed too strong about it all -
The next two weeks were spent just living life and soaking up time together as a family unit. We just had no idea how to proceed other than to just live and relish each moment - no concept in our brains of how to do life apart from one another. Much of it is a blur, and I should have written about it all sooner as bits and pieces have drifted from memory. Between the seemingly constant vertigo attacks and the reality of the impending separation I felt robotic. Our last week together I would wake up and dread the next night - the passing of the next day, all the while recalling conversations with friends who's husband's had deployed - the last week it is just so difficult to be normal, to view anything normally, to proceed without dread.
It felt like a death, but it wasn't one - that's what my mother-in-law kept reminding us. It's ok to grieve - it did feel like a death. Insurmountable.
We took off on a Wednesday night for a date to Banana's Fun Park and had a blast like two little high school sweethearts in puppy love. I held tightly to him as we drove his parents scooter down the highway into the sunset, not wanting the sun to set on another day.
We prepared the boys as much as we could for the coming separation. Josh told them and their responses cracked us up and provided much relief. They were very matter of fact about it - not at all what we expected.
Josh planned a much needed night away for the two of us. It had been far too long since we'd had that much uninterrupted time together. It was absolutely delightful. We drove to Ouray, CO a couple hours from here and snow shoed, soaked up the incredible "Swiss of America" scenery, ate delicious food, soaked in a hot tub and enjoyed checking out the quaint little shops along the downtown.
There are many more pictures from our trip in the photo album, "Ouray".
We spent our last weekend as a family working around the house and just trying to be normal - spending as much time as possible with all 6 of us in close proximity.
And then vacation was over. The vacation that really only felt vacation for the first few days that first week. It was hard to believe the time had arrived. I'd had it in the back of my mind for months, but I didn't ever think it would actually happen - I said farewell to my friends knowing full well it could happen but assuming it would't. And now it was time for him to return to our home without us. It was gut wrenching.
After traveling for over 36 hours he arrived home to an empty house and wept from exhaustion and sadness. We talked on FaceTime and wept together. It hurt, but it was the beginning of a beautiful season (we are now only 4 weeks into it) of separation where we have learned things that could not have been learned otherwise. He's made it ever so obvious why the boys and I are here now without Josh. It continues to hurt and we long for the day we will be a family unit again, but we trust fully that our God is sovereign and had this all beautifully orchestrated way back 10 months ago when we started planning this "vacation".
