Modern Inconveniences.

My last post was triumphant.  I think all that effort to have things hang together facilitated the quick undoing that followed in the past couple of weeks.

Josh brought home a nasty stomach bug which quickly jumped to me.  Poor Elena would shuffle silently to my side as I vomited, and then flush the toilet for me when I had finished.  "Mommy sick," was something she told me for a few days after my recovery.  Thankfully she was spared--I don't think I could have handled cleaning up after myself and her at the same time.

Then our credit card got jacked.  I'm grateful but kind of amazed at how credit card companies take you at your word when reporting fraudulent charges.  "Not us," I say.  Gone!  Of course, I haven't the guts to apply that to our legit charges, but still--how often to people take advantage of that?  We're still waiting on our new cards, which stinks because now I just feel like each purchase I make is a waste of potential rewards.

And then Elena got her thumb caught in the door at school.  I think her teacher used the word "courtesy call" three times that day to describe the notification she gave me of the incident which included, "she can move it" as a sign that all was good.  Not really what I would consider a courtesy call, but it was nice to know, or at least think, that the thumb was okay.  In reality, it is--despite the fracture that goes through her growth plate.  We paid our $35 copay at the ortho hand appointment today to hear in 5 minutes that she's got a great prognosis since the area around the growth plate heals well.  Good thing, since she ripped off the splint in the car on the way home from the ER last Saturday after singing Where is Thumbkin? and waving her blue coband thumb about.

And then our swamp cooler busted.  Steph and Steve's a/c unit had broken the weekend before, so they had holed up at The Vortex (the affectionate and appropriate name for Josh's parents' house).  Thankfully we only spent a night in our hot house (in the morning Elena woke up and promptly asked, "Where pjs go?" when she discovered she was wearing only a diaper) before the Kolnackis were able to head back home and we could take their place.  So tomorrow they come to fix things.... hopefully.  The swamp usually works well until about now when the humidity rises with monsoon season--it's about now each year that Josh and I consider investing the ~$6,000 in having a/c put in as well.  And then those two months pass and we forget about how uncomfortable July and August are in our house until the following year.

So that has been our series of obnoxious events over the past two weeks.  Needless to say, I'm pooped.  Judging by Elena's bedtime of 7:20 tonight, I'd say she is too.

I started on our Maternal Child Health service on Wednesday.  This change in routine is typically energizing for me, since I get a ton of time to spend with mom/baby pairs educating them and myself about breastfeeding and lactation.  We've had a delivery each yesterday and today--todays was sticky, and I was thankful that our patient had made it to the hospital and that we had obstetric back up to help get baby out.  I am helping a med student devise a reading elective for the month her baby is due--one of her classmates said in recognition, "OH!  The breastfeeding elective?" which I thought was kind of funny since right now it's very free form.  The classmate expressed interest in "doing the elective" as well--encouraging that there is interest, but I am still amused that my relatively new found passion keeps giving me opportunities to spread the breastfeeding love.

Anyway, in my preparations for this student's elective, I read The Surgeon General's Call to Action to Support Breastfeeding, just released this year.  I skimmed the 90 page PDF, searching for a few statistics I had heard at a recent conference.  Read this--it blew my mind:

"A more recent study that used costs adjusted to 2007 dollars and evaluated costs associated with additional illnesses and diseases (sudden infant death syndrome, hospitalization for lower respiratory tract infection in infancy, atopic dermatitis, childhood leukemia, childhood obesity, childhood asthma, and type 1 diabetes mellitus) found that if 90 percent of U.S. families followed guidelines to breastfeed exclusively for six months, the United States would save $13 billion annually from reduced direct medical and indirect costs and the cost of premature death. If 80 percent of U.S. families complied, $10.5 billion per year would be saved."


13 billion!  That's on par with shoring up some of the tax loopholes that the government is batting about.  


Anyway, back to the baby we delivered today.  My guess is that the majority of the bajillion of kids this woman has were born at home in Africa, like many of our African refugees.  They are quick to learn what studies have shown (and probably necessitated lots of money to prove): that increased intrapartum surveillance increases C-section rates.  So they tend to wait until the last minute to come to the hospital (if at all) before baby comes.  I am SO happy this patient came to the hospital--I shudder to think about the outcome if she hadn't.  I think this case is one of many that has led to Healthy People 2020 including the following objectives, specifically the last one:





I'm very happy that people are paying attention to the benefits of breastfeeding on our children, and our nation's future health.  I thought today of writing to Michelle Obama and asking her to extend her campaign against childhood obesity to include publicly supporting the WHO, AAFP, and AAP guidelines for breastfeeding.  If a successful, stylish, respected black woman stands in support for breastfeeding, maybe women (specifically young black women!) would listen.  


It's a good thing our swamp cooler is getting fixed tomorrow--I've got to get writing.

My Big Independent Babe.

I can't believe our family survived last week.  I staffed over 175 clinic visits, supervised two circumcisions, facilitated sending two patients to the ER, did every drop off/pick up, kept the house chica-worthy, and put Elena to bed in her new room every night.  My compatriots were just as formidable this week.  Josh was off to the hospital by 6/6:15 every morning after preparing Elena's lunch, and home after 9:30 pm every night except Friday (what a treat to be able to eat dinner as a family!).  After a teary Monday evening pickup ("I want my Mommy!  I want my Mommy!" was what I heard as I opened her classroom door at 5:40 pm), the rest of the week was smooth despite being at daycare from 7:20ish to 5:45ish every day.  And the dogs didn't destroy anything or poop/pee/vomit anywhere in the house as a protest to getting no activity this week.

I'm so happy to have a potentially quiet week coming up in comparison!

Last weekend we converted our guest room into Elena's room.  Our guest room was used by my family about 3-4 times per year, but mostly by our laundry pile, hence the nickname of my aging full-sized bed "The Bed of Laundry".  The bed of laundry, as anyone who has slept in it can attest, is saggy.  Saggy in the middle, lying on a box spring whose beams are broken.  It was time to move on, which is why the bed is now in our backyard, awaiting final arrangements (Goodwill for the mattress, brush and bulky in September for the box spring?).

Elena's resulting room is a lavender sea of serenity, punctuated by her little pink kitchen, our CD-less de-junked shelving unit, and the top of the line twin bed that my then-single husband bought himself upon moving into the Einstein housing in med school at age 22.  (Maybe age 22 is still too young to be forward-looking, but I like to tease Josh about his mini-bed which is so non-conducive to having a snuggle buddy.)  Elena took to her new room immediately, and has been sleeping there all week.  She still wakes up most nights in the middle of the night, calling out for me (though last night it was, "Daddy?  Daddy?").  Thankfully she either stays in bed while calling out, or takes my hand and turns back to her bed to be soothed back to sleep without protest.  Yesterday morning she woke at her post-vacation 5:15, and I went to see if I could snuggle and nurse her back to sleep in our bed.  As I carried her out of her room she turned her head and held out a longing hand towards her bed with a whiny, "Bed??!"  Once in our bed, she on/off snoozed/nursed until 7 am (thank GOD), but that one little wistful glance back at her bed really solidified the fact that our co-sleeping toddler is gone forever, and gone before the age of 2.

That was quick.  Less than two years of watching our little one fall asleep and wake up by our sides.  If we didn't have another one coming so soon I think I'd be even more broken up about it.  I often felt really guilty about the seldom-used beautiful crib that our parents bought us for Elena, until the night she climbed out of it.  But a thing is just a thing, and I am so grateful for all the hours of snuggling that co-sleeping afforded us.  Perhaps our surprisingly easy transition to getting Elena to her own bed is a reward for nearly two years of interrupted sleep, but I prefer to be a big egocentric and say that our physical closeness during sleep facilitated this easy transition.  Sleeping nestled between two parents must be the ultimate in feeling safe, and within the support of that guaranteed safety, Elena's independence was free to develop.  If you don't buy it, check out some of the stuff from Attachment Parenting.

I went to a breastfeeding mini-conference while still on vacation, which featured a talk from an ob/gyn on prenatal, delivery, and immediate postpartum support of breast feeding, as well as from a pediatrician on postpartum support of breastfeeding.  (Why they just didn't ask a family physician to do the whole thing is beyond me, but hey, what do I know?)  After the pediatrician's talk, one of the attendees asked about advising parents who wish to co-sleep, since there is data to suggest that co-sleeping helps facilitate breastfeeding and maternal/child bonding.  Now, I don't know what this woman does in practice, or what she did in her own home, but I do understand that if you are part of an event that is offering CME (continuing medical education) credit to physicians, you probably have to uphold the policy statements of the organization to which you belong.  So the pediatrician basically said that she advises parents to put their baby to sleep in a crib in the parents' room, and she advises against bedsharing, which is consistent with the AAP's policy statement on reducing risk factors for SIDS.  I was really disappointed by her advice, and chimed in that we can give advice to our patients but that it often falls on deaf ears.  I directed the attendee to the Attachment Parenting's website for information about safe co-sleeping practices because I feel that if a mom is asking the doctor about co-sleeping, chances are they're already doing it anyway--why not direct them to information to keep the baby safe in that practice?

I think I posted the link to this article previously, but just love it so much, so here it is again: Why Babies Should Never Sleep Alone.

Okay, I'll step off my soap box now and enjoy Elena's nap by my side in our bed while Josh snoozes away in her bed...

Like Beyoncé, I'm a Survivor.

I have strategically given myself little "treats" each day this week as a reward for being in the office all day.  I don't think I would be faring this well not having had vacation for the preceding two weeks, with or without treats.

My treats are lame.  I'll admit it.  They are also food-centered, but for anyone who knows me, that's no surprise.

Day 1--Choice Greens Southwest Chicken Salad with no chicken for lunch
Day 2--Same salad, but with an iced latte at lunch time
Day 3--Beyond Bread breakfast (which I like to call Beyond Breakfast because it usually serves as a good mid-morning snack... this time I ate the whole damn thing before 9 am) with a latte and Choice Greens salad for lunch

I think I'm going to have to just be happy with giving myself permission to leave the office at 3 (guilt sets in as I realize this means cutting out on a well respected geriatrician's talk from 3-4) to restock our shelves which are getting REALLY bare.  This week Josh hasn't been home before 9 pm at all, which means no Trader Joes, which stinks because when I have to do all daycare runs, work every day, and prepare dinner and do bedtime, I could really use some half-prepared meals.  Poor Elena went to daycare yesterday with frozen peas, frozen corn, frozen edamame, and some ripped up frozen Nan bread (all unfrozen before going to school of course).  (Those were some fun stools to clean up.)  What a lame lunch--no offense to Josh who put it together.

When Josh is in the UMC ICU, I get a glimpse at what being a single parent must be like.  I think I've said this before--sorry to sound like a broken record.  (And I'm mostly apologizing to single parents because as part of a two-parent household, I *know* I've taken Josh's help for granted!)  I just don't know how people don't completely blow a gasket on a daily basis raising kids alone--and I'm only dealing with one child for 1-2 weeks at a time, and that time involves a dad who occasionally is home long enough to change diaper or make a lunch.

Okay, so maybe my feathers got a bit ruffled in the early afternoon today and negativity started to ooze a bit.  Gotta keep that in check.  (Of course, this post is becoming totally stream of consciousness as well as more of a "note to self".)

I'm totally cheap, and couldn't let today's CSA pickup go.  My summertime partner was supposed to pick up, but is away on vacation, and I realized this last minute and couldn't find someone else to pick it up... until Liz Moran offered.  That girl is saintly.  Liz, who picked up her own share earlier in the afternoon, went back to pick up mine so that instead of driving all over town with a tired, hungry, cranky toddler, I could feed, snuggle, and put that toddler to bed.  And get my produce tomorrow.  Liz is my hero.

Tomorrow is Liz Day.  I'm going to be positive and pleasant and food-treat-free as part of expressing my gratitude to Liz.  And any ideas on how to make carrots more interesting would be appreciated... by both Liz and me!

...And there went May.

Okay, so May was an absent month for blogging.  And I was on vacation for two weeks.  Oops.  Our time away in Key West, however, did include staying in a place that had the suckiest wireless connection ever, if that is any excuse.

Tonight Josh is off seeing a movie (X-Men.  who cares?), which is only fair since he gave me my own mental health break this evening in the form of a yoga class (letting me go to one, not actually leading it... but if you know Josh you knew that already).  I inspired someone at yoga tonight by doing urdhva dhanurasana, or upward facing bow or wheel pose--whichever you prefer.  He told me often complained about doing that pose, but felt like seeing my 7-month gestational belly reaching for the sky made him relinquish the excuses.  It was nice to feel inspirational, even if I did inspire him through shame.... a little. :)

I have to say that tonight's yoga teacher has inspired me in a shameless way to greet the unknown with a warm and open smile.  Or at least try.  I am starting back to work tomorrow after two weeks away--and my week is going to suhh-huck since I am supervising residents EVERY single clinic session this upcoming week.  Yikes.  I feel like I need to strategically plan my treats to myself to get through the week.  Anyway, I'm anticipating lots of "how was vacation?"'s as well as comments around how pregnant I look, and I am going to do my best to be as bright as can be rather than wallow in the fact that I am stuck in clinic ALL DAY, EVERY DAY this week.  (Okay, so maybe I need to wallow a little bit just to get it all out.)

Continuing on in the practicing positivity vein, Josh and I did a pretty amazing job at creating a room for Elena this weekend.  Our guest bedroom had previously been a repository for beds, CDs, old loose photos, and lots of other crap.  It really lacked character, and often contained ALL the laundry in one huge messy pile.  Now it is a lavender haven of fun for Elena, complete with our new hand-me-down pink kitchen, pictured below with not my child:


I love Elena's room so much that I foresee spending lots of time there.  It's junk-free (minus the closet, but being able to close those doors helps ignore that fact) with clean walls, and she keeps running from one thing to the next, mostly bringing me concoctions from her kitchen with a chipper, "Here, Mommy!"  When we returned from Florida she kept rushing from the sink with her mini-pot to Isaac's face, encouraging him to drink what she had "put" in the pot ("Here, Isaac!").  He didn't appreciate it as much as I do--at least I pretend there is something in the pot instead of turning my nose away.  Sheesh.  Dogs--how rude!

Having Elena in her own room is weird.  Suddenly our bed feels huge again.  Of course, this is only night #2 of non-cosleeping.  Last night she would have been with us for the latter half of the night if she had just settled back down and went to sleep, but her constant stirring and whining led to Josh snuggling with her in her bed instead.  It's all a process, right?

Here is a picture of my cute kid at the beach.  This was around the time she started throwing sand:

Breathe In, Breathe Out, Go Shopping.

I'm taking a deep breath this morning after two full days of being tied to the computer to staff resident clinics, last minute Chica prep, dropping off a fussy Elena, stopping at the bank as I was $20 short for the Chicas, stopping at Target to update my maternity wardrobe and replace my busted bag, and finally sitting down at Beyond Bread.  My belly is big enough now that my regular shirts are mostly too short, and I've just about retired my regular pants.  I keenly remember last pregnancy having a breakdown moment during belly transition in feeling wholly unattractive and fat, and skipping out on a night out with friends due to not feeling comfortable in any of my clothes.  Luckily my mom went shopping for me and shipped some cute maternity tops out soon afterwards, which helped, as did becoming obviously pregnant as opposed to just appearing ambiguously pregnant vs. chunky.

I haven't had those feelings this pregnancy, and wonder if it's a combination of being too busy with Elena and my new found (lack of) hygiene habits.  Soon after Elena was born, my cousin Abby half-joked over Facebook that "baby wipes aren't just for babies".  I really took that to heart and in the early days made good use of baby wipes for myself before running out to the store or somewhere that doesn't require much to pass for being clean.  I guess I am still ignoring the comments that followed Abby's, comments about how baby wipes were the only way the interior of someone's car got cleaned, or some other novel use of the baby wipe.  I never got around to being novel or creative--I just went for basics in wiping away the staleness of my unwashed skin.

I've never been much of a shopper.  I don't have the patience required for department stores, and although I used to relish a good sale in my youth, I've bought way too many ill-sized and/or ugly items just because they were cheap--including shoes.  So now I am usually in and out, and I shop very infrequently.  Mom's picks for maternity clothes are fine, but all the tops are size large and some made me look bigger than I was--not really what you want when gaining 25-35 pounds.  And there's the cut-out neck top she bought me--much more her than my style.  So today I bought two tops that are cute and work-worthy, and a pair of pants with that ridiculous soft expansive top.  I won't go shopping for at least another 6 months.

Yes, this post is incredibly mundane.  But that is okay.  I'm simply trying to take advantage of having the opportunity to sit by myself and be quiet.  My parents were here last week to care for Elena during her break, something for which I am super-grateful.  But our house is shrinking as we increase our family's population, and I just am not myself when people are staying with us, as much as I enjoy having guests sometimes.  I also learned during my parents' visit how much of an introvert I am in the sense that I REALLY need solitary time to feel refreshed.  Constantly relaxing with others is just simply exhausting. And I should really take greater advantage of the opportunity to practice yoga.  But when my family is visiting, there's always the pull between self care and spending time with people that I only see a few times per year.  But I learned my lesson.  Time away will make time together more sweet since I won't be so sour.

On a totally different note, Easter marked the beginning of a new Elena era.  I don't really know what to name that new era, but an open to suggestions.  And since I'm bad at the baby book thing and this is my (weak) substitute, plus this post sucks so much anyway, here it goes.  We went to Mary and Jerry's for Easter, and Elena loved playing in the warm tub (not so much a hot tub when it's mostly kids going in).  But she kept interrupting her splashing to shout loudly, "MOM!!" and come back inside the porch to babble something at me before splitting again.  She's done it a few times since, but not as intensely as on Easter.  This morning she called, "DADDY!  MOM!" which was nice because she's been a little Mommy-centric lately.  Anyway, it's cute for this 20 month old to be shouting like a tween.  I half-expect her to shout, "MOM!  Can I have 20 bucks?" or "MOM!  I'll be back before 9!" as she runs out the door, though I'm comforted by the fact that she might be able to open doors now but locks are still a challenge.

The Finer Points of Advertising in Tucson.

Tucson has some unique advertising strategies that I just haven't seen other places.  Perhaps these strategies evolved to attract the eye of drivers on well traveled 4 and 6 lane roads where businesses line each side of the street.  The three I've noticed are balloons, costumed waving people, and the sign twirlers.

Some businesses string balloons from their roadside signs, and by the end of the week the balloons are often droopy and partially deflated, soon to be replaced by freshly helium inflated recruits.  Car dealerships seem to favor the more permanent mounted "balloons", often in patriotic colors since there is nothing more American than buying a car.  They look a little less fun to me, only waggling stiffly with a strong wind as compared to the fancy-free movement of their traditional counterparts.  I didn't really notice the prevalence of balloons until Elena fell in love with balloons, and now points them out (and girlfriend does NOT miss a balloon display!) when we are driving.

The costumed waving people are typically dressed as the Statue of Liberty (Liberty Tax) or some other such nonsense.  Yesterday I saw a woman dressed not very provocatively but in some sort of sexed-up Americana type outfit advertising for a sale at the local sex shop called Fascinations.  That was a new one.  My parents and I saw a dude with a huge beard hanging around a barber shop in our neighborhood a couple of years ago; I think my mom snapped a picture because it looked so real.  These advertisers aren't necessarily anything special (I'm comparing them, of course, to Justin Timberlake on SNL), but I do wonder how some of them manage to keep their pep through the day.  In truth, most look a little bored.

The most exciting form of Tucson advertising that I've seen has been the sign twirlers.  Lately I've seen a lot of people just waving the signs up and down or side to side, but there are some really talented twirlers out there.  These guys (I've yet to see a female pro twirler) do all sorts of sign flip/body spin maneuvers, and always catch the sign.  It's quite impressive.  The combination of their talent and the energy that fuels their incessant movement just boggles my mind.  They must be either slamming Monster drinks or on cocaine.

On that illicit note, I come to the point of writing this blog entry.  There is a church that I pass by after dropping Elena off at daycare that just has the snarkiest signs out front sometimes.  Sure, they also advertise for church yard sales (*snore*), but they make me chuckle with slogans such as "BE AN ORGAN DONOR.  GIVE YOUR HEART TO JESUS" and "WITHOUT THE BREAD OF LIFE YOU'RE TOAST".  I have to say, they have simply outdone themselves this time by taking the most somber time in the Christian calendar and making a pretty funny joke out of Christ's resurrection.  Their current sign (which I imagine will be up through Holy Week and Easter Sunday) reads, "YOU CAN'T KEEP A GOOD MAN DOWN.  HAPPY EASTER".  Wow.  I am almost tempted to check out what their services are like, but mostly because I really want to find out who the mastermind is that comes up with these phrases.  Are there databases with such phrases?  Anyway, if you're a Tucsonan, the church is on the east side of Kolb between Broadway and Speedway.

Okay, time make the doughnuts.  See how powerful advertising can be?  And should I really say "donuts"?  What a weird word.

Three Unrelated But Awesome Things.

Just to follow up on the fire alarm trauma, we did have a pretty interrupted night--lots of Elena stirrings and requests for "milks" and "the milk side".  I don't really understand the milk side, but I think it stems from a puzzle she received as a gift from Aunt Gail and Uncle Ed.  In true Gail and Ed form, the puzzle is ballet themed, and on one side (gray border) there are three animals posed during dress rehearsal, and the other side has them in full costume at a slightly different part of the performance (pink border).  We usually do the "pink side".  Anyway, she's got me all worried that I'm dried up on one side but not the other by requesting the milk side.  Tangent, but still.  I am not keeping up with her baby book so I figure I should record these cute things somewhere?  (Where better than alongside my neuroses...?)

So, Thing #1.  Back to the Casa this morning (which was fussy and whiny), where Heather told me that Elena would be spending some time in Angela's classroom.  Great!  A week of transitioning, followed by a week of vacation, and then on to Angela's classroom.  When I picked her up, she ran over to me excitedly and started pointing out the new features of her surroundings, including a poster of puppies.  "Lookit!  Da doggies!"  She had apparently had a great day, with only a moment of confusion as she saw Heather on the playground.  One little girl gestured to me as we were leaving, worried that Elena had forgotten her sippy cup.  Another new classmate (who Elena had known from early care... or not, since she was like 6 months at the time) waved happily goodbye to Elena as she was walked out by her daddy.  So practice day #1 went well.

I went to collect her bag, which is always hung on the same hook outside of Heather's classroom, designated by her name tag.  Her name tag had been taken off!  I was so sad, or more nostalgic, really.  My little girl is no longer a tiny toddler.  I told Josh and he said, "Wow, that was quick.  'Get out!'  Maybe she bit another kid or something."  I hope not.

Thing #2.  This is a quickie.  I don't have to work tomorrow!  I've thought all week that I was scheduled for yet another Friday afternoon, but discovered today (verified on the clinic paper schedule, amion.com, and my personal calendar!) that I am FREE!!  for the whole day.  What a nice surprise.  My parents get here Saturday evening, so I could use the time to further decompress and prepare their room which contains The Bed of Laundry, which was formerly known as The Bed of Wires after we first moved and it was the temporary storage site of everything electronic.  The Bed of Laundry is pretty laundry-ridden, and needs some attention.

One of the residents asked me today if I felt like I was one of the faculty members who was "stuck" with them the most.  I said that the program director and assistant program director helped take the brunt of things, and then realized that I guess I am in clinic more than most other faculty.  I find this interesting because I feel as though a huge weight taken off of my shoulders this year, and my duties/schedule have been refreshing and allowed me to recharge a bit.  So I guess it's nice that residents feel like I'm always around, yet I feel like I'm not around as much as I was last year (in which I often joked about suicide, which is just not healthy).  Freedom.  It's pretty awesome.

Thing #3.  Anabelle wrote me an e-mail this week. Anabelle is my mama Tica, my Costa Rican host mother with whom I credit the development of my Spanish language skills.  I think I wrote about Anabelle in my last blog--I just tried to find it on MySpace, but MAN is that site jacked up!

Anabelle is one of the warmest, most dedicated women I've ever met.  The woman is in constant motion.  She was almost married three times, raised her daughter Roani as a single mom, and is helping Roani raise Marialex.  It always seemed to me that Anabelle functioned as Marialex's mother, and Roani more as an older sister.  Marialex is a lovely girl, and was one of my favorite parts about staying with Anabelle.  I stayed with them for two months in Guadalupe, one of the suburbs of San Jose, during my fourth year of medical school.  Many a night was spent sitting at the kitchen table listening to Anabelle tell a story of her youth as she bustled around the kitchen.  I know Anabelle becomes close with all of her students, especially those that stay with her for a while, but I think my experience was a bit different as two of my classmates from medical school were also staying there at the same time--which was a COMPLETE surprise to me when I first arrived!

During my second year of residency, I returned to Costa Rica to do more language lessons and then catch a yoga retreat.  I had booked my flights, the school, and the retreat, but nothing else.  In retrospect, I don't really know what I was thinking.  I went to the airport and started to panic... just a little.  It felt like I had just been there, and when I left Costa Rica I felt as though I had a respectable network of friends there.  But I'm terrible with maintaining communication, and that is where the panic stemmed from.

Luckily I was able to get bumped, which gave me time to buy a Lonely Planet, look up a place to stay close to Guadalupe, use the airport courtesy phone to call them and make a reservation, and get some credit towards my next flight all in the span of 20 minutes.  That edition of Lonely Planet sucks, and is filled with errors, but luckily my cab driver was kind and we figured out the error in the listed address soon enough.

The next morning I got the bus schedule from the guy working the front desk, and realized that I had some major time to kill.  So I went knocking on Anabelle's door.  "Anabelle!" I called at 8:30 am on a weekend.  Every home in San Jose has bars and gates and the like, so you always needed to knock something metal or a stone against the bars to get someone to come to the window or door.  "Jessica!" she said when she saw me.  My skin usually crawls when someone calls me Jessica, since it's not my name.  I think I corrected Anabelle the first or second time she said it during my first stay, but it never really made a difference, and I came to not really care.  We had a great visit, I showed her my little mini-book of wedding photos, and I asked if I could stay for a night or two towards the end of my visit once the retreat was over.  She said she'd try and find space.  But she also said that one of her current students was planning on going to a yoga retreat--could it be the same one?  Wouldn't you know, it was.  So Kat and I bonded over our love for yoga and Anabelle and Desiree who led the retreat.

Anyway.  I'm so happy to get reconnected with Anabelle, and show off pictures of Elena.  They had just gotten a computer at home when Kat was staying with them, and didn't really get e-mail.  Two years later, it looks like she's figured it out and looked me up in her book of students.  Anabelle.  I should have known that any Juanes fan in her 60s would eventually figure out how to navigate the internet!