ADIOS PROVO!

Yep, that's right! I'm finally home, and couldn't be happier. This summer term, althought pretty short, has been exhausting. It feels so good to be with my family and friends back in good ol' "Missourah".

And now, I finally get to start the fun part of my summer. Here's the schedule and a few pictures to illustrate:

June 20-June 29: At home with the fam.

We always have bucks, does, and fawns around our house in Spring/Summer

Our backyward on an early Spring morning.

One of my favorite parts about coming home: MAX!!! June 29-Aug. 9: Internship in Cabarete, Dominican Republic
It'll be a great adventure, considering I don't speak Spanish and will be expected to teach a class of 10-12 year olds about 16 times a week.

Dominican Republic is the kite surfing capitol of the world.

Cabarete Beach

Aug. 10-Aug. 17: VACATION! With the whole family, my roommate Katie, and Justins friend Aaron.

Here is a picture of the grounds of the resort we're staying at, Iberostar Tucan.
Another picture of the pool area. Aug. 18: Foot Surgery

So after a fantastic Summer, I'm coming home and wrapping everything up with a foot surgery to remove some plates that are still in my foot from last summers surgery. Here are some pictures of last Summer.

Thanks to the anesthesia, I have no recollection of this picture being taken or of me aking over and over for my mom to come back to the O.R. with me to take more during the surgery.
This is the first foot after surgery...that's right, I did BOTH.

Getting ready to pay the doctors a little visit?? : )

One of Those Days...

Have you ever had one of those days you think you must be on candid camera, or there should at least be a camera crew following you around because what just happened is so ironic/funny/emberassing, or all of the above?
So the other day, my roommate, Katie, and I decided to go get a snow cone at this place just up the street from us. We didn't know how much it would be, so we just grabbed some money and walked out the door. I knew neither of us had our keys, so as we were leaving, I twisted the door handle to make sure it wasn't locked. It felt locked to me, so I turned the knob the other way, shut the door, and we headed up the street.
When we got to the snow cone hut, we checked the prices, counted our money like two little kids whose math skills weren't up to par, and discovered we were 10 cents short. Well, we walked back to the apartment to get the little bit of money we needed. As Katie went to open the door, she said "Caroline...", in a disappointed sort of way, and I quickly realized that instead of unlocking the door, I had accidentally done the opposite...Oops. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal. Either another roommate would be home or would have keys. That wasn't the case. Both Adeline and Jessie had left without taking keys either. We were stuck.
Not two seconds after saying my name, Katie exclaimed "A dime!". And there on the floor of Middle Cambridge was exactly what we needed. The worry of being stuck out of our apartment lasted all of those two seconds before Katie found the final dime that would get us our two small snow cones.
So, we headed back to the hut, got our snow cones (always cotton candy for me, always grape for Katie...we're creatures of habit, I guess), and decided to enjoy them outside...which was a pretty good option as that was our only one... And despite being locked out, I'd have to say we were pretty pleased with ourselves.
Halfway through my heaping turquoise pile of shaved ice, the temperature started to drop. One drop, two drops, three, four, five, started falling from a rain cloud that looked like it was only 20 ft. across and had decided to hold its contents until directly over Katie and me, the two shelterless people sitting outside.
So we sat it out, laughing to ourselves about how ridiculous the whole evening had been. It was a little cold, and we were a little wet when we noticed the most gorgeous rainbow I have ever seen, arching directly over our apartment and landing, it seemed, somewhere by the temple. Again, we couldn't help but smile...
When our roommates finally got home, it took 5 or 6 people trying to break in to our apartment, and a lucky search of the building next to us to find another apartment owned by the same land lord to get us finally inside....
Does this stuff happen to other people? If it happens to you, or you've heard of it happening to other people, it'd be nice to know I'm not the only one.

Lessons Learned

This is my first blog...ever. So please be merciful in your critiques. But I've found that so many of my friends and family members have blogs now, it's about time I get one too.

I have recently started working at the Utah State Hospital. My official title is a Psychiatric Technician. My duties vary, depending upon which unit I'm assigned to each night. Oh yeah, did I mention I'm working the graveyards? Well I am. This job has been a first in many ways for me: first time working graves, first time (but hopefully not the last) working at a hospital, first time that I've been verbally abused on a nightly basis (by the patients), and the first time I've willingly put my life in danger nightly, just to name a few. Interestingly, I believe it's been the combination of all of these factors, as well as the long hours of pondering that a graveyard shift allows, that has really opened my eyes to a few truths.

One day I was working on a unit with an older man who had a reputation for being somewhat difficult. He requires intensive care, and can be very unpredictable. That morning, as I stood behind the main desk of the unit, I watched this gentleman come out of his room. He proceeded down the hallway at a snails pace. His hair was uncombed, obstructing my view of his face. His shirt was dirty and it was very probable that he'd worn it for a few days. His hands walked down the hallway walls, feeling their way towards the desk, as if they were guiding him instead of his barely open eyes. He finally sat down in one of two plastic chairs that were sitting against the wall only a few feet from me. I'm not sure if this was his desired destination, or if he'd just been too tired to brave the wall-less five feet he would've had to have crossed in order to reach the next available seating option. Either way, there he sat. I watched him for a long time as he sat motionless, hunched over in his chair, a vacant seat next to him. I began to wonder what he had been like in his 20's or 30's. Had he played any sports in high school? Did he attend college? Was he ever married? Can he remember his life before his illness? As I sat there, watching this man, a passage came to mind:

Now there is at Jerusalem by the sheep market a pool, which is called in the Hebrew tongue Bethesda, having five porches.

In these lay a great multitude of impotent folk, of blind, halt, withered, waiting for the moving of the water.

For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.

And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years.

When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole?

The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.

Jesus saith unto him, aRise, take up thy bed, and walk.

And immediately the man was made awhole, and took up his bed, and walked...

John 5:1-9

For a second, I could imagine the Savior, sitting in the chair next to this plagued man. I have no idea what the Savior would do, if he would heal him, sit with him, or just comfort him. But I did realize that this man, just as the man at the pool of bethesda, needed somone to "put him in to the pool" to be healed. And suddenly, the gravity of my job hit me. I realized that I was that person, that I had the opportunity to act as an advocate of the Savior, to do as the Savior would, to these patients. Obviously, I can not heal the mental illness these people suffer from, but I can help to quiet some of the fear and dispell some of the lonliness they feel.

As I started to make personal commitments to always treating these patients as the Savior would, I was reminded that I lack a very key element...Empathy. Only the Savior, who at the garden of Gethsemane suffered for everyone and everything (including mental illness), could truly understand the aggravation and pain a mental illness can cause to a patient and their families.

Therein lies one of the true miracles of the Atonement: That we can know our Savior is a personal Savior. And that we can depend on the individuality of the Atonement to heal us, heart, body, and mind.

"Just as the lame man at the pool of Bethesda needed someone stronger than himself to be healed, so we are dependent on the miracles of Christ's atonement if our souls are to be made whole from grief, sorrow, and sin."

Jan Underwood Pinborough, Ensign, 1989