What I'm Reading This Week

Sustaining Simplicity: A Journal

by Anne Bayse

It came to me one day in the postal mail. I sent Anne a quick e-mail right before the open heart vacation to thank her, even though she didn't exactly know either how I got it. It's newly published.

This book has been my beach reading this week. I'm almost done and now I need to send Anne a much more thoughtful e-mail to really thank her. I googled around and learned that there will be a website developed to accompany the book.

Since I really love reading memoirs, this was terrific. OK, it's not exactly a memoir, but kind of. It's written in first person. Like a journal. A conversation. Honest. Thought provoking. Joyful. Like a friend. And when I got to the part where Anne put on her Jackie O scarf and shades, well, then, of course I knew why I was clicking with this. :-)

Take care everyone! T

P.S. We would love it if you could stop by our care page:

http://www.carepage.com/

page name: CoachSpeirs

patient name: Rob Speirs

Day 4 Open Heart Vacation

Look out here I come.

The afternoon program.

Amy, the Patient, Trey, Rusty, Jennifer ~ My brothers and sisters-in-law.

I can't believe how things just come.

Carol, Ragaey, Olivia and Laila -- Thank you!

Amanda and Ellie, her. . . second cousin? Cousin twice removed? Third cousin? I don't know, but she sure is cute. About the same age as Laila and Olivia.

Aunt Renee and Amanda

Aunt Renee gave us a tour of the St. Mary's "chapel."

So much art around here.

Tonight's program on the Open Heart Vacation:

Bob ~ NBA Draft

Me ~ Free Wifi

Amanda ~ Disney channel in family room

Aidan ~ X box in a pediatric room he just found down the hall

Earlier ~ Dinner aka Supper at the Canadian Honker with Aunt Renee, Ellie, Aunt Laurie, Uncle Bart

Thanks everyone for the great week. And thanks to all of you for coming over to the liver blog. We would love to have you stop by the care page:

http://www.carepage.com/

page name: CoachSpeirs

patient name: Rob Speirs

With love, T

A Scooter Tour of Downtown Rochester

After spending 8 hours on Unit 5F in the Mary Brigh building,

it was time to get the kids outside.

Psalm 121

St. Mary's Hospital, Rochester, Minnesota.

Scooter Tour Point of Departure.

I'm so glad you can't see that my daughter insists on wearing pajama pants.

Downtown Rochester -- Spetacular Sculpture

Spectacular Sculpture

Spectacular Sculpture.

Ragamuffins.

Most important stop.

What used to be the Chateau Movie Theater

Wish it was still a movie theater

Imagine watching movies in the courtyard of a French Castle with stars on the ceiling.

What was the arc that framed the big screen.

Mayo Main Entrance. Can you see the Chihuly's, the blown glass art through the windows? Don't worry, Bob never noticed them either when we came for liver stuff. I always did. Stunning.

Where we almost lived.

Where I want to live.

Scooters and children make for better recovery.

Thanks for coming over, friends. I really appreciate it. If you can, we'd love to have you over to Bob's care page too:

http://www.carepage.com/

page name: CoachSpeirs

patient name: Rob Speirs

Peace and joy! T

Scenes from St. Mary's

This is how we framed the kids school pictures this year. Portable light weight self-standers. Sofar this has blessed six hosptial stays. Actually, we need to thank twins from NYC, Olivia and Laila, for giving us their beautiful pictures in this convenient porta-photo thingie, which we cooped for hospital stays. Secondary agenda with huge photos of the kids is to remind attending health care staff that the patient is a FATHER and not a grandfather, even though the liver made him look like grandfather. Afterall, don't you think they simply must heal FATHERS of young children?

Paramedic Extraordinaire Brother Tom and Mayo One. Tom works on the transport team but mostly on the jet. I might sneak the kids over to the airport tomorrow for their special tour.

During the surgery Tom gave us a tour of the heliport and hangar. Tom, Dad, Mom, Pastor Bob Nervig.

Psalm 121

Atop St. Mary's Hospital, Rochester, Minnesota.

Around the corner from the heliport.

Dr. Rakesh Suri, Bob's surgeon. Canadian.

This is what ICU nurses do non-stop their entire shift. Checking the tubes. Monitoring the vitals. Analyzing the numbers. Chatting with nervous family. Over and over again. One nurse. One patient. We got Tony for two shifts. He said he couldn't sleep last night because he thought he forgot to tell me something about the second surgery.


Come on over to Bob's Care Page:

http://www.carepage.com/

password: CoachSpeirs

patient name: Rob Speirs

Thanks everyone! Love, T

Nature? Nurture?

"Nice paper mache' house," we say to Aidan when he brought this project home from school. "We like the telescope on top."

"It's not a telescope," Aidan says. "It's a bazooka."

Welcome to the liver blog everybody. I'm so glad you could come over.

Could you all bear witness to the fact that we did not raise our son to envision a giant artillery toilet paper roll atop his dream home?

Becky, who taught middle school for 15 years, said we shouldn't be worried.

*

Just enjoying my favorite Friday night. Family movie. Glass-o-wine. We are watching that buff guy Vin Diesel flick where he is a secret-agent-nanny with ninja next door neighbors. Aidan loves it.

Bob's appointments went well today. A little nerve wracking to anticipate the surgery on Monday and another 2 month hiatus. But honestly, we know there is so much to be thankful for. Oh that sounds so dog gone trite, but it's true. Thanks everyone for your notes and prayers. We so much appreciate them all.

With love, T

P.S. We're firing up the CoachSpeirs care page, please come:

http://www.carepage.com/

password: CoachSpeirs

patient name: Rob Speirs

O I feel so Jackie

I have just discovered the secret to being liked at your workplace. You figure out a way to postion yourself a thousand miles away from all your co-workers. Then they never know your annoying quirks and they keep sending you things like care packages, cards, flowers, and for example yesterday a scarf.

My colors. Silk. From India. Fair Trade.

I love it! Thanks so much everyone. My Jackie O impression actually made Bob laugh. Poor guy, what a nut for a wife he got.

And then there's Joanne who sits a thousand milimeters from me, and well, Joanne's exceptional so that's why she puts up with me.

Anyway since I couldn't figure out how to put these pictures on an e-mail to thank the HQ people, I thought I would just post them here so you all could see this scarf. My Mom gave me two scarves too, when we first realized that there would be a hole in my throat. So I think I will officially consider myself a true lover of beautiful scarves.

And just like clockwork, Margaret came by with East Africa tea and chapati (flat bread) because well, of course, Bob's surgery is Monday and she remembered and is going to give us prayers and support. You may remember that she is the one who developed a leadership program for 80 girls in the slums of Nairobi, her home city. Anyway, I wish I could just superglue her to Amanda for the next 5-10 years or so. Amanda who is now taller than her Auntie Margaret.

Friends, this is the long way of saying that Bob is feeling a wee nervous for his O surgery on Monday. O=Open Heart. Even with his Jackie O-eqsque significant other. Your encouragment and words of support would be so much appreciated. Phone. E-mail. Blog. And we are firing up the care page too. Here's how you get on there:

www.carepage.com
page name : CoachSpeirs
patient name: Rob Speirs
(you'll need to do a one-time registration)

Tomorrow we go to St. Mary's Hospital in Rochester for his angiogram thingie and a conversation with the surgeon. Another surgeon. Uh oh.

With love, T

What's your favorite planet?

Hello everyone and thank you for coming over to the liver blog. It's so nice to have you here. If you are a die hard Coach Speirs care page reader you may remember this celestial conversation from a few months ago. If not, no worries. Either way, it continued last night.

"I like Jupiter because it rhymes with stupider," Aidan told me while tucking in on the top bunk.

"I like Uranus because it rotates sideways," I said. "Like me."

"And Uranus is here and here," Aidan said pointing his finger to two places on his body which will remain nameless; with a 2nd grade grin as though we were riding the school bus together.

Dog gone, we've already been through this. The wrong body parts assigned to "Uranus." Get it? "Your Anus." Not "Your. . ." well, you know. I'm not going to say. But a few months ago I did the right thing and used real language and plainly explained to Aidan what was and wasn't Uranus. And now it looks like he still doesn't have it right.

I didn't write it in the Mama Panda job description to have this conversation. I mean, these are my kids, my babies. Do we really have to talk about Uranus?

And then there's myspace.com. And the whole social networking via the internet. Fine. I mean, look at me and my liver blog. But yesterday I had to tell Amanda what a "pimp" is and why I hate the "B" word more than the "F" word. I had to tell her why her 5th grade friends should not be posting pictures of themselves in bikinis. I had to wonder if she even knows exactly what the "s-e-x" word means anyway. Must I think about all this on a Monday evening?

And I had to think on how to tell all this to my dear 'ol traditional Husband whose parental approach is, "No more computers ever! Amanda and Aidan are grounded for the rest of their lives! Burkas for school clothes!"

There is one and only one thing I know. 1.) Myspace.com is not going away. OK two things. 2.) And we have to figure out what to do with it. "We" being us-parents, us-church people, us-anybody who cares about anything about youth. Because it's h-u-g-e.

I did think of one thing. I inquired with Professor Mary Hess here at the seminary. She specializes in media studies and believes that we should not be afraid of media but should consider it a friend and a tool for ministry, for social change. She imagines Wiki software that challenges us with faith questions. (What's a Wiki?) Anyway, she was kind of enough to engage with me even from her sabbatical. I'll let you know what she says.

So there you go. Question of the day. Can't we just worry about stuff like open heart surgery? Or how about this topic -- Aidan's annual summer shave. Now that's the kind of parenting we like. Haircuts. Much better. Here you go.

Take care everyone!

With love, T

All I ever wanted was for her to not be afraid.

That's what another soccer mom said this morning. It was the 3rd soccer game of Amanda's weekend tournament.

My belly is in knots. Holy cow, the girls played long and hard and I can see improvement. But you know what, here's the thing. I can't believe how many opportunities there are for offense, and yet the girls tend to position themselves for defense instead. I can see it as clear as day from the sidelines. And I'm not even a sportsy person. I am not competitive. But it goes way beyond competition.

Somewhere in that hour of girls at play, for us moms and dads on the sidelines the soccer game became much more than a sport. It was our daughter's lives at stake. It was about all the times we hoped for them to take charge, to make good choices, and to *not* let others play on them. No one. It was about them recognizing the chances before them and going after it with vigor.

I've watched Sam's team and it's different. Same age group, but boys. They are aggressive. They don't wait for the ball to come to them. Why is that? Do you think it's true that girls are naturally hard wired to wait, to be nice, to be subordinate, to not hurt other's feelings, etc. etc. Why can't we train girls to take charge and just go after that dog gone ball?

This is why we parents on the sideline cheer every time a daughter steels the ball. Every time she blocks the ball. Every time she inserts her cleat into a clump of feet and surgically removes the ball. Every time she redirects the ball. Every time she smashes the ball towards the goal. This is why.

All we want is for our daughters to not be afraid.

Happy Father's Day.

With love, T

An Eagle Soared Today

It was during Amanda's 100 degree soccer game, which I was counting the minutes to the end. (Honey, if you're reading this. . .you did just awesome! Way to scramble!! xoxoxo) Anyway, I took that eagle to mean that I will make my deadlines this week. Goodnight everyone. With love, T

All You Need is Love. . .Everyday

Hello Friends and Welcome to the Liver Blog! Thanks so much for coming over. Thanks for the comments on Bob's power suit. ;-)

I just wanted to prove to you that we really were working this week while Becky was here from HQ. This lunch outting proves it, right? Anyway, here's the Lutheran World Relief Minnesota staff delegation minus Diane, who really was at the lake this week. (There are many, many volunteers to be added to this delegation. For another blog.)

Here we are plotting for peace and justice for everyone in every generation all around the world. Isn't that what you do when you're 21 years old? We're still doing it. Introductions according to duties:
Mary (print dress) -- Director of Inspiration
Becky (light blouse) -- Director of Imagination
Joanne (black right) -- Director of Appreciation
Me (black and pink left) -- Misdirector of Complication; grateful to work with people who have their heads on straight as opposed to 3-D dyslexic 'ol me who is so glad they hired a poet for a president.

We have similar color palets too. Black, white, bold. Well, OK, looks like Becky can get away with a pastel too. Lucky. One day I'll get a picture of Mary's doggie and tell you the duck-in-the-lake story. Becky will tell you that while in Minnesota she scrubbed pots at Joanne's and folded clothes at our place, but don't you believe that.

*

Tonight for prayer requests, if you're the praying type, here's our list:

• Jean and Alan
• Aaron and Lisa
• Cynthia and Steve
• Kids on the myspace website and parents trying to figure out what to do (to be blogged about later)
• Monet and Marleigh
• Aleena
• the memory of Melissa
• Fathers, here and there, near and far
• Bob's call
• Patrick's call, everyone's call, the call process
• Bob's surgery, honestly, he's starting to get nervous -- I'm telling him this: you go to sleep and then you wake up, you're sore, and you just let people take care of you, you heal and you're back 100 percent, even better than now
• Me, that I can meet my deadlines before drifting into open heart never land, which I already feel like we're sliding into. . .

You know what, you're all awesome and I wish I could be with you all right here right now. As Steven Stills says, if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. As Jesus says, love your neighbor as yourself. As Dave Matthews says, all you need is love. . .everyday. As I say, sending this with lots-o-love.

With love, T

Estimated Time of Departure

Do you ever wonder if you have 3-D dyslexia? (Whoever invented that word was definitely not dyslexic.) Like a mix up of all life? Or at least the pesky things like time and space.

Since I telecommute to Baltimore I have a one-hour time difference to constantly compute. I kid-you-not, I can turn that one hour into a four hour fiasco. Yes, friends, I have messed up meetings by 4 solid hours because of that one hour time difference. I don't even know how that is possible, but it is. It's my 3-D dyslexia that is really B.A.D.

It shows itself in other ways too. Take the parking meter for example. Have you ever had to figure out how many hours you need the meter? I look at my watch. Look at the meter. Look at my quarters. Back to the watch. Count backwards from the estimated time of departure. Wait a minute, exactly when is time of departure? Look at the meter again. Put in all the quarters. Look at my watch. OK, remember that time now.

I mean, it's like I'm working on a 3-D Ph. D. in living color.

And so today, I cut short our time at the lake because I was afraid Becky would miss her flight. Gotta get to the airport. And how exactly do you get to the airport from Lake Calhoun anyway? Oh my goodness, she's going to miss her flight. Rush, rush, drive, drive. Get her there. Thanks so much. What a great week. Hug. Hug. Close the trunk. Outta there.

Get home, look at the clock, and it's like. . .I think I made Becky wait at the airport for, I don't know, three hours. Was it three hours? Was I really off on the ETD by that much time?

The problem solving and information processing really took a hit this year. I promise, it's coming back. I truly promise it is.

But before I got home my awesome Dr. Asfaw called on my cell. Pull over the car because I cannot drive and comprehend what he's telling me all at the same time. When? Where? How? I think I'll have to have Bob call him back because I didn't really get how this radiation pill thing is supposed to work. Go off the thyroid pill for two weeks. On another pill for one week. No pill at all for another week. Then 3-days to 2-weeks of isolation. Unless we have two bathrooms. Which we don't. Is that right? Anyway, it'll happen after Bob's heart thingie, not before. I mean, I thought it was just a pill and a three day retreat. Bam.

I'm telling you. I have really B.A.D. 3-D Triple DDD super size me get to sleep A.S.A.P.

Thanks so much for coming over to the liver blog. You're the best!

With love, T

P.S. Becky, I hope you enjoyed the lovely MSP airport.

I just think it's funny

The school sign before George and Harold walked by: DON'T UNDERESTIMATE OUR GOOD TEACHERS.

"All of the 'experts' at Jerome Horowitz Elementary School had their opinions about George and Harold. Their guidance counselor, Mr. Rected, thought the boys suffered from A.D.D. The school psychologist, Miss Labler, diagnosed them with A.D.H.D. And their mean old principal, Mr. Krupp, thought were just plain old B.A.D.!"

The school sign after George and Harold walked by: OUR TEACHERS DON'T USE DEODERANT.

*

From Captain Underpants. I think I'm really tired.

With love, T

Bob's Power Suit

How handsome is this? :-)

So Who Exactly is the Supervisor?

Hello and welcome to the liver blog. I'm so glad you could come over because I have a few nice little notes to pass along to you.

First of all, I wanted to give a great big THANKS to all of you for coming by and for leaving messages. I love them. A special thanks to caring bridge friend, Kristine, for the nice note in the guest book (scroll down and click). When you start a care page site, then you start reading other people's sites, and well, then you start getting attached to cute little kids with pudgy thighs and suction tubes who you haven't even met. And the adorable big sister. Hi Monet! Hi Marleigh!

Secondly, I wanted to say that I won't be writing much this week because my colleague from LWR HQ is here and we're "planning" (wink, wink, aka going to the lake, don't tell anyone in Baltimore). Anyway, here's the real secret. . .supposedly I'm Becky's supervisor but between you and me, she's really my boss. Shhhhhh, don't tell anyone. It's so great to work with someone with such superior thinking and strategy skills. It is a gift from God. Truly.

Lastly for tonight, in honor of Becky, I wanted to say a little something about our mutual friend -- the one and only Sarah Ford -- speaking of care page friends and supervisors. Sarah said I could post pictures of her cutie-pie little grand daughter, Kimora.

One day I am going to write a true novel about Sarah's epic life.

Then you will know why she is so funny, compassionate, and wise;

And why she knows exactly what to say when your husband's liver decides to leave;

And when she came to love places like the Congo and Central Africa Republic;

And where she would not tolerate jokes about malaria;

And how she came back to the U.S. with two sons.

How she lost Faustin; How Urbain brought her a grandbaby.

Not to mention her ability to negotiate with, oh, say, Procter and Gamble, and folks like that about increasing their fair trade product line. And then they do.

It's all about relationships, baby.

From Sarah, "FINALLY, some photos of my beautiful Kimora. "Sweet UB" is of Urbain (UB is his nickname) and Kimora one week after she was born ( b. 8/14/06). It is in the backyard in Maine, on a cool and beautiful summer morning. I can't tell you how amazing it was that day, watching Urbain take care of her, marvel at her, smile for photos (the first time ever , I promise you.) Being a part of Urbain growing from a boy to a man to a father has been a great privilege. (photo above)

"The other photo, "The family", is of Urbain, Darcy, and Kimora on Christmas day. As you know, Christmas is a hard day for us, but we had a happy celebration this year, our first with Kimora. We stayed up very late on Christmas eve, telling Darcy stories about Faustin and about C.A.R. (Central Africa Republic) and it felt quite nice to tell her stories and laugh together, knowing that Kimora was warm and safe and healthy, sleeping near us."

"Thank you for asking for a photo of Kimora -- she has brought us such joy and such renewal to our family. I have to struggle not to be too "Grandma-ish" and foist her picture on everyone!"

Thanks Sarah for the beautiful pictures. And for your beautifully lived life. (PS I tried to make the photos bigger but this is the best I could do.) And speaking as a Christian ~ how cool that just a little baby could bring great joy on Christmas eve.

Thanks again everyone for coming over!

With love, T

P.S. That's what Bob said to me today when I told him about my week with Becky, "So who exactly is the supervisor?" I got my own style. Sofar, it's working. ;-)

A Fresh Bouquet

Hello, how are you? Thank you for coming over to the liver blog.

I just wanted to show you pictures of the latest edible delight that the mother of Aidan's friend, Chan, brought down to us. You may remember that she is the one who got Aidan through swimming lessons while we were chasing after Bob's lost liver.

Anyway, she also happens to be very talented at creating beautiful food and delivering it to us. Lemon chicken salad; and tasty and pretty Korean delights that we don't know the name. Once when we had guests over, our wonderful Andersons, she surprised us with some kind of a fried rice dish that we all devoured in about five minutes.

Just thought you'd like to see her latest delivery, an edible bouquet that she wrapped in ribbons.

Isn't that so nice?!

Have a wonderful evening.

With love, T

PS

Just to be clear, Bob *will* be 100 percent after his heart surgery. :-) In case you were wondering.

T

Power Surge, Power Outage, Powers that Be Not Afraid

Hello friends and welcome to the liver blog. Thanks so much for coming over.

Don't you just want to strangle change? Just when we were all really loving the post-thyroid surgery power surge, it had to go and turn into the pre-heart surgery power outage panic scramble. Back and forth like a pendulum. Moving forward, backing up. Going forward, backing up. Thinking forward, backing up. Next cliffhanger: June 21 is last day of this liveslative session. Then we go back into haitus of the heart. Fully back in session end-o-August or so. Forward, forward, FORWARD. . .drop.

I am sending a thousand thanks to Phil and my colleagues at LWR. Oopsie, looks like I'm going to take some more time off again. I've lobbed so many projects to the fabulous Phil and he just catches them like a pro. So many projects that he has to remind me what I've asked him to do. I've asked him to help me think. And thank all the volunteers we know about who have done stuff this past year on behalf of the mission of LWR. With very little of anything from me, who is supposed to be supporting and nurturing them. Aren't you glad I'm not your supervisor? (That doesn't count you, Becky :-)

And eight days without my husband! What is that about? I made it through 6 months without his liver, but I cannot make it eight days without him. I mean, who will unplug the toilet and make dinner and handle absolutely everything while I lob projects to Phil? Plus, the truth is Bob's not 100 percent even though he looks it and mostly acts it. So it's a crying shame, he had to go and cancel his trip to NYC. Sorry everyone! I'm really, really sorry. It's just been one of those years.

If you are really sick and tired of us being sick and tired, I totally understand if you leave this dog gone blog and never come back. I really do.

And for the rest of you. . .well, what can I say. Thanks so much for hanging in there with us. I guess we're just entering month # something of a reminder that we need YOU, our friends, neighbors, family, colleagues, prospective colleagues. I promise to God and to everyone, we will never ever forget that.

OK, let's lighten up here. Let's see. . .lighten up, Aidan is taking a play bath, I'll go and ask him for a joke. Be right back. . .I'm back. Here's the joke:

Question: What did the booger boy say when he bonked his head and everyone started to laugh?

Answer: It Snot funny.

Laters, gators.

With love, T

End of School, sniff, sniff, get me a kleenex

P.S. This is a public school. (I just say that because I find that many people assume we got our kids in a private school. Uh uh. :-)

With love, T