Doug

Doug's birthday was a few days ago. I threw him a surprise party and forgot to take any pictures. I know. What was I thinking? I think I was thinking something like I hope this works. I hope everyone is on time. I hope he doesn't figure it out. I hope one of the kids doesn't accidentally tell him. I hope he is pleased. And then I am so glad this worked. I am so glad almost everyone was on time and those who weren't were too late to ruin the surprise. I am so glad he didn't figure it out until there was a crowd yelling "SURPRISE!" I am so glad the kids didn't tell him. I am so glad he is pleased. There was a whole lotta thinking going on, I tell you. Unfortunately, just not I should take some pictures of this happy thing. Seriously. I should be kicked.

Anyway, let me tell you about it. I started thinking (I do that a lot, apparently) that Doug has had a rough year. Last August, he went to Haiti to do some humanitarian work. On his first full day there, he slipped on some wet-with-rain ceramic tiled outside stairs. He broke his arm. In three places. They knew he needed to see a doctor, so they took him to the closest hospital. It was closed. Yep, you read that right. The second one was open. They normally wouldn't have seen him (he being not-so-very Haitian and all), but because it was an emergency, they did. The IV stands he saw were made of 2x4s nailed together. Most of the hospital was in tents. True story. Luckily, one of the doctors there was from Austria, where he set the bones of skiers in the Alps. He set Doug's arm, but told him he needed an x-ray. That's right. They don't have x-ray machines in tents, apparently. But they did have spiders. Big ones. They (the doctors, not the spiders) wrapped his arm up and sent him on his way with a strip of fabric as a sling.

Here he is at a field tent orphanage with some sweet babies, workers, and some diapers my mother in law and her friends sent along.

 Later, he made it to yet another hospital where there was not an x-ray machine, but something close enough. That doctor said it looked OK, but said Doug needed to see a specialist the minute he got home. So, he did.

Here Doug is with a baby who is not an orphan (he got to know her parents very well), but he wanted a picture with her specifically because he knew I would think she was gorgeous. And I do. If she was an orphan, I might walk/swim back there to get her.

The doctor here said it wasn't quite right so, eight days after the original break, he reset it. Yep. Ouch. So, after six weeks in a cast, he began physical therapy. And he couldn't really hold Sophie during most of this time. It was very sad for them both. After quite a while with no improvement, he was finally sent to a surgeon. He had surgery in December. Pretty major surgery. Then, six more weeks in a cast. More physical therapy. No improvement. More tests. Probably more surgery. Don't you think he needed a party? I do.

So, I told him I was taking him to dinner on his birthday. My sister in law Suzi said she would watch the kids. Really she was here to do all the hard work. You know, organizing people, getting the food set out, hiding the people, all while watching the kids. Anyway, we went to dinner, which was lovely except for the fact that I had a cold and temporary anosmia and couldn't taste a single stinking thing. I even had a big old bite of wasabi trying to clear up my sinuses so I could taste, but to no avail. But that's another story. When we came home from dinner, my mother in law was sitting in our front yard pulling weeds. When we got out of the car, she told Doug that she had stopped by to say happy birthday and just decided to wait for us to get home. She couldn't stay long, but wondered if he would show her our newly finished basement (to be featured in an upcoming post!) first. So, he did. Unbeknownst to him, there were lots of people in our basement! He was pleased and it was lovely. I was so glad that he had a wonderful time. He has some great friends, as do I. We are so blessed to have them, and each other.

Happy Birthday, Doug!