I Heart Papaw

Papaw's surgery went well on Friday. The doctor did replace one of his valves, but decided against also performing a bypass; this, after removing the vein from his leg and cleaning it in preparation for attaching it around a partial blockage of one of his cardiac arteries. That decision gave me pause -- I mean, the doctor's already in there and at Papaw's age, it's not like the doctor will likely ever go back in there! I learned, however, that doing the bypass carries with it the risk of dislodging calcium deposits in the artery that could travel and lodge themselves elsewhere and potentially block the flow of blood to a crucial area. This combined with the fact that other arteries had taken on some of the job of the partially-blocked artery tipped the risk-benefit analysis against doing the bypass.

I visited Papaw in the hospital on Sunday and found that he continues to recover quickly. He was predictably feeble and a bit foggy because of his pain medication, but considering that he'll soon be 84 years old and had just had this chest sawed open two days before, he's doing darn well! I'm very thankful for that, because I heart my Papaw! :J

Life Happens

Yep, life goes on, even when you've built a fort of Aspen case books around yourself. I found out yesterday that Papaw will have open-heart surgery tomorrow (Fri, 21 Sep) to replace a faulty valve. I knew from a doctor visit that he had several weeks ago that the procedure was inevitable, but found out just yesterday that the blackouts that he's been having are a result of this faulty valve and that the next blackout could be his last. So, he and Mamaw are headed to Charlotte today for pre-operative tests. He'll likely be in the hospital for a week and could have another week in a rehabilitation center after that. Though it's a major event, I'm not unduly concerned about the procedure itself; it's the recovery that concerns me. I'm afraid that Papaw will go stir-crazy not being able to move about freely and that the added responsibility of intensely caring for someone will wear on Mamaw. I hope that their financial situation and their pride will allow them to hire a home health-care worker.

It's been almost a month since my last blog entry. Some topics have crossed my mind, but I've not had time to develop my thoughts on them or commit them to writing. I miss my daily walks around UNCG; I occasionally walk around downtown, but it's not as enjoyable. There are many conservative people around me, but I have found that most of them are quite cool; "conservative" seems to have different implications for my many classmates who are 12-14 years younger than me. When I've visited UNCG, I've experienced something akin to culture shock at observing how people dress on that campus (hip, trendy, casual) compared to how folks dress at Elon Law (stylish, dressy, casually/comfortably conservative). Those are just a few of the things that have been crossing my mind lately (besides elements of intent, personal jurisdiction, bargain for consideration, and adverse possession). :J

WWAFD?

Forget those trite WWJD bumper stickers and bracelets. Here's a contemporary example of ethical behavior and fairness with which many of us could more easily identify -- Atticus Finch, one of the main characters in Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird. So, the next time that an ethical dilemma confronts you, just ask yourself...

"What would Atticus Finch do?"

:J

Here's your sign.

The more astute among you might have noticed that I've been curiously inactive here and on Flickr since I entered law school. It's true; I've been incredibly busy and, though things have happened on which I'd like to comment, I just haven't had time to write anything.

The title here is a tip-o-the-tuque to Bill Engvall, but has nothing to do with common stupidity. Often, when at an important crossroads in our lives, we might ask God for a sign of what action we should take or for affirmation that we're on the right path. Though I'm unsure of what God was signaling, a sign came through LOUDLY and CLEARLY two Sundays ago.

Chris and I went to church at College Park Baptist Church in Greensboro and sat near the back (Though American rather than Southern, it's still a Baptist church.), next to the aisle. A few minutes into the service, as we were settling in for the sermon, I heard a VERY loud crash and a womon's scream. I don't think that I realized what happened because I don't remember jumping or being startled; I think that I had one of those moments where your hearing goes out for just a split second and you miss a syllable of a conversation. I noticed what looked like bird's feathers drifting down from the ceiling into the aisle next to me, looked down to see the little, grey bits covering the men in the aisle across from me, and then looked on the floor to see the vent diffuser from the ceiling now lying on the floor. This 3-feet-across hunk of metal had somehow become dislodged from the vent and dropped 25 feet to the floor in the middle of worship! What's more, it had missed me by about 6 feet and the gentlemen across from me (who were now covered by bits of insulation and compacted dust) by only 2-3 feet!

Everyone in the sanctuary just sat quietly for a couple of minutes, stunned, wondering what to do. The Pastor paused, conferred with the worship leader, then announced that we were moving worship to the smaller chapel. We made our way out of the sanctuary, filed the much smaller chapel, and finished our worship. (Ironically and, perhaps, foolishly, I sat directly beneath a brass and glass chandelier in the chapel.) I shared this event with several church-going friends and discussed the shared experience with a staff member at school who also attends church there, but mostly got on with the week and just enjoyed the shock value in telling the story.

Chris and I returned to College Park this past Sunday and, upon entering the sanctuary, looked up to see what had become of the gravitationally-challenged diffuser. It had been reinstalled in its proper place. During worship, the pastor reassured us by sharing the news that a professional had reinstalled the diffuser and checked the others to ensure that they were secure in their spots.

The funniest part of all this happened during the offering this past Sunday. As the ushers approached the altar in preparation to collect the offering, we noticed that they were wearing hard hats, which they then used instead of collection plates to collect the offering! Ha! A congregation with a wry sense of humor--I could make it my church home! :J