'sneak attack' biopsy

No one enjoys surprises, that includes me; but with everything that's been going on during my 31st year of life (e.g., being an long-distance marriage while in grad school, my 'hot tub mishap' sending me to the ER, both parents being hospitalized, Dad getting cancer), I should be use to surprises, especially the un-welcomed sort.

Source: WebMd, http://women.webmd.com/picture-of-the-thyroid

In August 2010, I had a disturbing letter and cat-scan (CT) results sent to me concerning by the ER I visited during a bad accident in a hot tub that made me pass-out and hit my head and neck on a marble wall and floor.  After a nasty bump on the back of my head and concussive issues, I thought everything was okay...until I received those documents.  After seeing my primary doctor, Dr. N, he recommended I see one of the better endocrinologists in the area, who did his own ultrasounds of the thyroid, Dr. S, who is pretty awesome:  Dr. S took his time explaining to me what the ER's cat-scan of my neck meant (it read 'lesion on right lobe of thyroid') and does his own ultrasounds on his patients inside his office, instead of a random ultrasound technician somewhere else in the hospital.  In a world where the doctor's time with his/her patient is on a ticking-clock, Dr. S provided a thorough examination of my neck, explained to me physician jargon that persists in most CT readings and did the ultrasound.  After seeing several 'abnormalities' on the right lobe of my thyroid, Dr. S recommended I get scheduled for a thyroid biopsy.  With everything that was going on with Dad being sick, I was pretty freaked-out.  I know I shouldn't be, but 'ignorance is bliss':  being a fellow clinician, I knew that all sorts of stuff could be wrong with my stupid thyroid.  The thyroid is a pretty important gland for women, especially those wanting to get pregnant (see WebMd's down-low on the thyroid and women).  So knowing what I knew, I was scared.
The 1st scheduled biopsy took place in mid-October.  M took some time off of work and flew in from DC to be with me.  I remember crying the night before the morning of the appointment.  Dad was just diagnosed with cancer the month before and was just told earlier that week that it had spread or metastasized.  When I arrived to the biopsy lab to meet with Dr. S and his residents and nurse, I was beside myself; but I kept thinking, 'God is definitely in control of all this.  He wouldn't let me go through this alone.'  I soon calmed down and laid back on the examining table while Dr. S did one final ultrasound to verify that the lesions were still there.  After 45 minutes of looking (and the ultrasound jelly being spread allover my neck), Dr. S and his residents couldn't find it!  That meant they wouldn't have to do a biopsy!  I was beyond thrilled and very relieved!  I knew that God wouldn't give me more that I could handle on my plate...and my proverbial 'plate' was pretty full.
Yesterday was my 2nd scheduled ultrasound/possible biopsy.  And because the last ultrasound showed nothing, I wasn't too worried.  I didn't tell my family in CA that it was happening and I didn't ask M to fly out for this one.  I even drove myself to the appointment because I was so sure that they wouldn't be doing anything more than an ultrasound.  I remember thinking while I waited at the cancer center (where the biopsy lab is located), 'This is nothing.  I know they won't find anything and I'll be out of here in less than an hour when they see nothing on the ultrasound.  Sweet.'  Man, could I have been more wrong.  Dr. S conducted a physical exam of my neck and didn't feel much of anything that meant 'nodule' or bump; but he wanted to make sure that there was nothing underlying under the skin tissue.  During the extensive pre-biopsy ultrasound (the one the doctors do before they poke you with the biopsy needles), Dr. S found the 'colloids' and 'calcifications' with 'comet tails' on the right lobe of my thyroid.  Whatever the hell that meant, it was completely clear as to what they needed to do:  biopsy.  I was crestfallen.  Firstly, I hate needles (any kind) heading for my direction.  I know this is an empty fear since the doctors give you local anesthetics before the biopsy needles go in, but I hate them nonetheless.  Quite ironic, since I've been an ICU/ER nurse for a decade.  Secondly, this was just a biopsy.  I shouldn't be so freaked-out, since it's a routine procedure, right?  Right?
As the resident was prepping the procedure equipment and Dr. S was writing up his notes after my ultrasound, I briefly called M to let him know what that they were going to do the biopsy.  I could tell in his voice that he was upset that he wasn't with me for this appointment, but I didn't want him to be worried.  (It's amazing how much we try to be brave and not sound like we're worried ourselves.)  I had a bit more time before I needed to get a gown on and get on the table, so I texted Mom to let her know what was going on and turned my phone off:  I didn't want to hear the constant vibration of my cellphone going off during the procedure because potential and continuous texts/missed calls.
I laid down and prepared myself by pinching my own fingers for the burning injections of lidocaine, the local anesthetic they would be putting around the areas they would be getting the biopsy.  First, Dr. S made marking on my neck with the guidance of the ultrasound, to where he would be getting the biopsies from.  Because my 'lesions' were not superficial but within the gland itself, the biopsy would have to be performed under the guidance of the ultrasound rather than the doctor feeling them with his hands.  After sterilizing the area carefully (I'm allergic to shellfish and iodine, so they used alcohol), the local anesthesia shots were next.  I felt like I was at the dentist but worst:  instead of the quick lidocaine shots that go into your gum line, you've different places where several milliliters (mL) of anesthesia going into the soft tissue of your neck, down to your thyroid gland.  The first injection burns like fire, but then the subsequent ones are unnoticeable.  I closed my eyes while they gave me the shots, because it freaks me seeing needles so close to my face.
The biopsy needle (long and skinny) with its huge syringe chamber enclosed in a metal contraption came next.  I had to close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else:  Looking at the doctor's hand holding an ultrasound probe on your neck while the other hand is manipulating the biopsy needle and syringe is not a fun sight.  The whole time this was going on, the doctor's arm is over your visual field.  No one's fault, but I would have started hyperventilating because it felt so claustrophobic with all this stuff going on around your face.  Thinking about what they were doing was also making me nauseous and you have to stay still throughout the whole thing.  Before every time the biopsy needle was inserted into my neck, I had to take one more swallow and not talk.  Keep breathing and don't swallow.  I kept reminding myself of this over and over again because it gave me a specific task to focus on while Dr. S manipulated the biopsy needle and ultrasound probe.  Not swallowing for a period of time is a tough job (you try it), even more so when there is a chance that something could be nicked if you did swallow.
During the breaks between local anesthesia injections, biopsy needle aspirations, delivering slides to the lab room, Dr. S had put on the computer a slideshow of pictures of his recent vacation to British Colombia with his wife and another couple.  I could easily turn my head to the side while laying on the table to look at the slideshow, while trying to remember to place pressure of the gauze dressing on my neck.  I saw pictures of wild orca whales, blossoming flowers at a botanical garden and mountain panoramic views.  The pictures were calming and it helped me focus on something beautiful and happy, instead of having to be on a table with needles getting tiny bits of your body tissue.  I wanted to escape to anywhere else but where I was and those pictures were a lifesaver, because when I would close my eyes during the biopsy itself, I envisioned beaching whales and majestic views of Whistler.

black markings (longitudinal and transectional) for biopsy sites

After several more injections of lidocaine (they had to go further inside the gland than they anticipated) and biopsy needles going inside my thyroid 5 times, they were finally done.  By the time the 2.5-hour visit was done, my endocrinologist attending physician was accompanied by his resident, a pathologist, the medical technician (who did the biopsy slides), another medical resident and a medical student in the tiny room where I laid on the examining table trying not to cry because I was scared.
Then it was finished.  The resident, Dr. U, wiped all the ultrasound jelly off and place a small bandage.  Dr. S said that he would hear results in about 2-3 business days and would be contacting me as soon as he knew anything.  I got dressed, thanked everyone, and walked out to my car in a daze.  At this time, it's rush hour traffic and I'm driving home in the hot mess of it.  I started tearing-up (the first time I had the private opportunity to do so since they first told me they would be doing the biopsy).  I couldn't believe this just happened.  My neck felt swollen and tender as I knew the lidocaine was quickly fading.
After a quick reprimand from Mom for not telling her sooner so she could fly out from CA to be with me for the procedure, followed by her apologies for not physically being there for me, I called M and told him what had happened.  M expressed his guilty feeling for not being there for all of this, but what is someone suppose to do when you're 800 miles apart except pray?  I wept on the phone with M, because I missed him so much and felt like I was alone.  I knew--deep down inside--that my family was always with me; but at this time of vulnerability, I was tired and by myself in St. Louis, without my husband and my family.  After talking with M for a few more minutes I could muster (my neck was starting to get painful even after the bag of frozen peas applied to control the bruising and swelling), I bid goodbye.
Thank God for good friends in the area.  Their kind messages and visits have made this time a bit more bearable, even without my immediate family and husband here with me.  KK came by last night with dinner and took both dogs out for their evening walk.  She kept me company until I was done eating and vowed to return this weekend if I needed anything else.  Other friends have offered to help out with anything and come over to the flat, if I should need anything.  I'm grateful for that and always thankful for the comfort of these close friends who have continuously backed-up their devotion to our friendship, even when I'm not at my best.

I woke up today (it's Sabbath) and my neck is quite sore and uncomfortable to turn my head to the left.  Being on the previous medications for controlling my asthma attacks the week before, I am wiped-out.  Completely fatigued.  This morning's meal consisted of a bowl of oatmeal, a cup of medications and supplements, followed by a glass of water and OJ.  I was hoping to be well enough to attend church service today, but this morning wasn't so easy to get out of bed and I still have the black marker residue from the biopsy that won't wash off immediately.  So I'm staying home, reading my Bible lesson for the week and listening to the online recording of a past sermon.  Today, I truly rest and petition God for the peace I already know of but need to be reminded of:  the peace of God and trusting Him with everything.  Sometimes in times like these (after a sneak attack biopsy), I need to be chastised for not remembering that 'God's got this.'
These are the facts:  My husband is not here full-time in sT. Louis.  Neither is the rest of my family.  I have great close friends who have been quite supportive and prayerful for my situation.  And most importantly, that God isn't going to let go of my hand through this uncertainty and this pounding 'alone' feeling I sometimes let myself feel when I'm out here in sT. Louis.
For now, I just need to get through my last semester of graduate school so I can join my husband.  I'll also have to deal with whatever the biopsy results are next week.  Right now, all I can do is 'just breathe.'

another semester apart

Typical factory site close to roads on KY bridges

(L-R): eLLie + cHeL-cHeL being adorably patient

On MLK weekend, M + I started on our road trip from MaryLand back to sT. LouiS, a rough 800 miles in the car with a packed trunk and dogs in the backseat.  We were fortunate enough to have a beautiful, winter Sunday:  completely clear roads and a bright sun in the sky.  It did help that CheL-CheL and eLLie are awesome travel companions:  they went to the bathroom when we would make a pit-stop and slept for most of the way.  We began our trip kind of late (more like a 5-hour late start) so we decided to take the 'southern route' that would shave off an hour off the trip (because of fewer construction sites on comparison to the 'northern route').  This particular route would bring us through WesT Va., KenTuckY, a small tip of Ohio, some of Indiana and through iLLiNois.  We've taken this route before because there seem to be fewer semi-trucks and traffic.  There seems to be more factories on this 'southern' route and I didn't realize as much until this latest trip.

One of our pit-stop buys at a WV bookstore: discounted holiday chocolate: $1.75!

After a handful of stops for gas, food and potty-breaks, we finally made it to our sT. LouiS home around midnight.  There was some snow on the ground, but not much.  Apparently the STL had been hit with a snowstorm the past week and the street plow trucks had to come through our small neighborhood street.  Regardless of the cold and snow outside, M + I were just happy to make it safe and sound to our warm bed.  After a 14-hour drive, nothing is gets better than one more night to snuggle next to my hubby before we embarked on another semester of school apart.

Holiday Cheer: Christmas baking, cooking, love & anxiety

chocolate sponge cake, dk choc frosting w/ red sprinkles, powdered sugar

dogs thinking: "is it Christmas yet?  and why can't we have chocolate cake?"

1st batch of the holiday: undecorated sugar cookies

Christmas tree cookie.  yes, it was yummy!

Four days before Christmas, M flew in from DC to help with the drive from St. Louis back to Maryland.  We weren't planning to leave until the day before Christmas Eve, so that would allow us time to share a bit more private Christmas dinner with just the two of us and our dogs in the Lou.

I spent the week prior to Christmas baking and cooking.  M + I planned our following special Christmas dinner menu:

• ·      roasted chicken (for M)
• ·      vegetarian duck (for me)
• ·      homemade mashed potatoes
• ·      homemade candied yams
• ·      fresh salad
• ·      homemade cheesecake
• ·      Welch's sparkling white grape juice

individual homemade cheesecakes: marble & regular-flavored

I setout to make sure all we were making was going to be delicious.  I hadn't made homemade cheesecake in almost a decade but that's what M wanted for dessert.So homemade cheesecake it was:  4 individual cheesecakes (2 marble chocolate and 2 regular flavor).  I also wanted to share the cheer, so I baked several dozen sugar cookies and gingerbread cutouts for our neighbors.  These were also my trial batches for the gingerbread cutouts that I was going to make for my in-laws we were spending Christmas in western MD, about an hour from Morgantown, WV.

 

Since I was going to be gone for most of my winter vacation we decided to not do a real tree (Frazier firs are my favorite), so I raided the local thrift store (The Clubhouse Shop) and Walmart for simple holiday decorations so that the flat wouldn't seem so barren.  This was the first year I've ever done stockings and we had four:  two big red ones and two kiddie ones for the doggies.  Yes, and even though our "kids" are our dogs, they mean just as much to us as if we'd had kids in the house.  At least we know right now, we are not ready for that kind of commitment:  children.  But I digress..

I was able to find a Christmas ornament stand and used it to hang our annual coffee house ornaments:  a total of 3, one for every Christmas M + I have been together. 

dining table turned into a cookie-decorating station

Once M arrived to St. Louis, our home was prepared for a simple yet warm Christmas celebration.  There wasn't any snow to make it a "White Christmas," but it was still special.  I have to say that this Christmas was the first time I've watched almost every traditional and "B"-rated Christmas movie that cable TV was showing.  For some reason, I wanted to truly soak-up everything Christmas.  I think being married and Dad being sick this past year, reminded me of how precious these holiday times with family and close friends are.  Additionally, it helped me to get into the 'right' Christmas spirit for my husband's arrival to St. Louis.

our yearly Christmas coffee ornaments: 3 Christmases together

I went all out with our dinner:  casual silverware setting and even color-coordinated charges for our flatware.  The good silver was put out as well as candles and linen.  I was honestly excited to share our first Christmas dinner as husband + wife and wanted to make sure it was extra, EXTRA special for M.

After dinner, we opened presents (ours and for the dogs).  M was so clever to purchase the first 2 seasons of his favorite sitcom, "Spartacus," as a present to us from our dogs.  I was quite clear with M that we needed to not be extravagant about gifts this year since we wanted to buy gifts for both sides of our families.  Being an unemployed graduate student and with a husband still working back East, I was quite strict about our Christmas shopping budget, except when it came to M:  I still wanted to get him presents that would mean a lot to him.  I guess that's what happens when people get married:  they still want to give the absolute best for each other, even if it means a personal sacrifice.

what the party planning book calls a 'casual silverware place setting'

After we cleaned-up the kitchen and took out all the Christmas wrapping garbage out to the bins, we were on a mission to do last minute packing prior to leaving at 5am the next morning.  It was going to be a long drive (approximately 800 miles) to M's hometown for his folks' Christmas festivities.  In the back of my mind, I was anxious. VERY anxious...and this is why:

me: 'honey, i didn't know our dogs could go shopping and wrap presents'

M's uncle and his uncle's family were never accepting of me or my religious background or the fact that M was marrying me.  Last Christmas (M + I had just been engaged), his uncle and his uncle's folks snubbed me the entire Christmas dinner.  It sucks that during a very boisterous dinner, not one of his uncle's family members spoke to me and I ended-up chatting it up with M's grandmother who sat next to me.  I felt so ostracized and secluded and cried my eyes out when M + I returned to his mom's house where we were staying.  Uncle J and his family expressed their 'disappointment' in a very passive aggressive way:  they would say "hi" to me (merely because I was there) but would later refuse to attend our wedding shower and wedding (both held in MD).  I felt horrible but even worse for M because he was so close to Uncle J.  I hate that our marriage was causing a rift between them, but in the end, M chose me and 'us.'  Eventually, Uncle J had 'apologized' (in so many words.  Remember:  they are passive aggressive) to M, but he or his family has never breathed an "I'm sorry" to me and didn't even provide a simple excuse to 'missing' our wedding.  In the end, the expectation of me was to brush it under the rug and forget it.  That's it.  As if nothing happened and that was my duty to do so.  In reaction, I've never yelled "BuLL****" louder.  Knowing that M + I would be spending Christmas with his folks (and his uncle and their brood), made me quite anxious and resentful for how they had treated me the previous year and throughout 2011.  This was a big pill to swallow, even as a Christian woman (hey.  I never said I was perfect).

We FINALLY got to my mom-in-law's house, 14 hours later.  After an exhausted drive, we crashed (hard) and fell asleep in M's old childhood bedroom.  We attended church the next morning and just relaxed for the rest of Christmas Eve with M, mom-in-law and sis-in-law (and the 5 dogs that we had at the house).

my Christmas card from my hunny

Christmas morning, I finished the batch of gingerbread cutouts and decorated them for the in-laws.  I'm glad they didn't turn out too bad, though some of them were quite soft and kept on 'losing' heads, arms, legs and torsos when picked-up from the wire rack.  The 'highly-anticipated' (more like, 'highly-dreaded') Christmas lunch at M's grandparents' home was going to happen in the early afternoon.  We were awaiting M's brother and his family to arrive from lower MD and I wasn't planning to head down early to the house (where Uncle J and his troop) were already at.  I'm not a masochist for punishment (again).  I promised M that if they were going to be as rude as last year's Christmas, I was going to walk out from the table.  Literally.  My exit plan was the following:  Fold my napkin, turn to Grandma M and kindly thank her for the meal and leave, not looking back.  I wasn't messing around this time or settling for Uncle J and his entourage's poor social skills (i.e., being rude).  I'd come to far as an adult and woman to be treated like that by them.  Especially them.

Lunch finally happened and, of course, I was civil to all.  I suppose warmer to M's grandparents.  M noticed that I delivered a curt "Merry Christmas" to Uncle J, but at least I spoke to him, right?  I could've completely ignored him when I arrived, like one of Uncle J's children had done in the past.  I made my round of hugs and greetings to most all (thank God that was over with) and we finally sat down to eat.  I was at the same area as last year:  between M and his grandma.  I was praying (in my head) that this wasn't going to be a repeat of last year's dinner.  At least for M's family's sake.

batch #2 of gingerbread cutouts at in-laws in western Maryland

The meal came and went.  Uneventful.  There were two tables:  the larger one (where M + I sat) seated 19 people, while the smaller one seated the rest of the 5 people.  M's cousins mostly sat together in the smaller table while the M's nephews stayed with their parents at the bigger table.  The insanity of Christmas gift opening was to ensue shortly thereafter.  And trust me:  it was INSANE.  For a moment during the chaotic gift opening, I sat next to Grandpa M and he said, "there are several different conversations going on in this [living] room but I don't think anyone understands what anyone is saying."  I laughed and we both sat back and watched the insanity of M's eldest nephew wanting to 'help' open everyone's present or M's cousins sharing a couch and laughing amongst themselves.  And this is where the passive-aggressive behavior gets to me:  Uncle J and his family got M + I gifts, yet they still refuse to address the freakin' white elephant in the room:  "THEY BOYCOTTED OUR WEDDING + MARRIAGE! WHAT THE HELL??!?"  I won't lie:  I ate his aunt's homemade cookies, said a gracious 'thank-you' to all of them; but I gave most everything else away to other people.  M + I did get Uncle J's family something for Christmas from Williams-Sonoma because we felt like it was the 'right thing to do.'  In hindsight, we should've gone somewhere else for the gift rather than a high-end cooking store.  I can't stand fakeness, from myself or from anyone else.  I hate pretending that things are hunky-dory between M's folks and me and even more so, the expectation that I need to forget.  I'm not a kept woman (M knows that) and I think other people need to understand that as well:  I will do my best to be civil, but don't expect me to be overtly friendly.  I did enough of 'acting' in the ER as if I gave a crap for belligerent patients who attempted to attack me (e.g., with fist, kick, or steak knife).  In places like that, I have to protect myself, then protect the patient.  As far as Uncle J's family is concerned, God is going to have to work on my heart and demeanor to accept the fact that they will never apologize to me or act like they deserve my forgiveness.  I'm not exactly there yet with the 'forgetting' part; but I'm open to the forgiveness notion.  After all, how can God forgive me if I can't do the same for others?

post-Christmas snow

Later on Christmas Day, we visited M's dad (his parents are divorced) and it was nice to sit in on listening to M + his dad reminisce about old times.  M's older brother was going to come along so that M's eldest nephew could meet his grandfather, but they decided not to.  M's siblings rarely talk to their dad (for understandable reasons), but I'm grateful that M still maintains contact with his dad.  Regardless of what 'dung hit the fan' in the past (trust me:  I understand that parent-child relationships can be a mess), M still wants to maintain open communication with his father.  I wish I were more like M:  he has the beyond saintly-capacity to forgive people.  It just feels weird having to 'hide' the fact that we were visiting with M's dad from his grandparents (apparently 'old sins' never die).  Christmas Day came to an end and we retired back to mom-in-law's house.  I was emotionally, mentally and physically wiped-out.  I wanted to sleep next to my husband...for a very LONG time.

CheL-CheL enjoying fresh snow in woods of in-laws back property

It snowed that week I spent with my in-laws: after Christmas Day and after New Year's.  It was an interesting week of spending it with just mom-in-law and sis-in-law...and our 5 dogs.  M had to go back down to DC for work that week but would return for New Year's Eve or NYE.  Initially we had wanted to spend NYE in NYC, but I felt that we could do better:  stay with his folks and cook NYE dinner for his mom & grandparents.  We decided on steamed asparagus, veal marsala (for everyone except me) over fettuccine, and homemade apple dumplings + ice cream for dessert.  The marsala seasoning was a disaster (the local grocery store did not have dry marsala), but everything else was fine.  Even if the dumplings opened-up while they were baking, it still tasted delicious and we ended-up finishing it all the following day.  After NYE dinner, we played board games and 15 minutes before midnight, we headed down to the grandparents' home to ring the big school-size bell in the front yard at midnight and ate more (e.g., cheese & crackers, sparkling apple cider, grapes, apples slices) to welcome the new year.  I'm sure M's grandparents weren't impressed by my cooking (the darn marsala-substitution was a bloody disaster!), but I think they appreciated it that we chose to cook and share our NYE dinner with them.

The day after New Year's, M + I said our goodbyes and headed down south to where we would be staying together for the next few days at my cousin's house close to DC, prior to my trip to see my folks in CA that same week.  My time with the in-laws (without M being present) was educational and fun.  My mom-in-law is very thoughtful and motherly while I enjoyed listening to the grandparents' stories (e.g., grandpa M's wicked sense of humor is undeniable).  Spending time with M's grandparents made me miss my own and mom-in-law's presence made me miss Mom even more.  I would miss my time with M, but I was definitely ready for a trip out to warmer, sunnier, palm tree-lined, Filipino hospitality:  my parents' home in CA.

ellie on top of one of her presents:  doggie blanket from 'daddy'

Miami Beach Holiday in December

During the first week of finals in early December, I received a student scholarship to attend a conference in Daytona Beach, FL.  This trip meant several things:  warmer weather, the sun, and wonderful people to meet.  The conference was for only two days and it provided me an opportunity to not only learn about what's going on in rural health, but spend the weekend visiting old friends who live in an area of Miami Beach, commonly known as "SoBe."  After a heinous, five-hour drive (all due to the combination of geriatric retirees, tourists, and insane 'the Fast & Furious' wannabes) in myrental car from Daytona Bch to South Beach, I finally made it to our friend's, J, high-rise condo.  To my surprise, J's 7 months pregnant!  (I found out when we first hugged and I notice her pronounced belly.)  J wanted to surprise me and, boy, was I shocked!  The 'preggers bug' is going around, I informed J:  first her, then my sis-in-law...I kept the crossing my fingers in superstitious hopes that I won't catch 'whatever's lurking in the water making people pregnant.'

 J and her fiancé, Y, live on the 21st floor and, I swear, I felt an altitude nosebleed coming on while looking down from their balcony.  Beholding a breathtaking view, you could see the cruise and cargo ships at the Port of Miami.  I arrived late in the evening but 'SoBe' seemed to be crawling with partiers and frolickers.  The humidity and ocean breeze hit me when I (dressed in black sweats and jacket) stepped out of the rental car.  But all I wanted was to fall asleep...on the floor, if needed.

The following day was spent soaking in the view of ships going in and out of the Port, catching-up on 'girl talk' over Pizza Rustica pizza and Ghirardelli chocolate samples on the infamous Lincoln Ave line of restaurants and bars.  The Floridian sun was intoxicating and it didn't feel like Christmas season or even December:  there were wild lovebirds pecking at grass below a menorah and driedel made entirely of seashells and erected in the midst of the restaurant's large umbrellas.  Shortly after lunch and yogurt from Tasti D-Lite, J & I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging by their condo's pool watching the sunset and cruise ships go out to sea.  Later that night, hubby arrived into MIA and just the two of us spent the rest of the evening and night in Beacon Hotel, an art deco hotel on South Beach.  Though the night hours were filled with middle-age drunk folk attempting to make it to their appropriate rooms, M + I spent a restful night in each other arms. 

The following morning, we woke up to bright sunshine and headed out for a walk in front of our hotel on Ocean Ave.  After a brisk stroll, we went back for breakfast and checked-out.  Arriving at J & Y's condo, J made us fantastical Cuban coffee, extremely strong and delicious espresso of which both M+ I are now in-love with.  The rest of the day, we visited the Miami Seaquarium and we may have gotten a slight sunburn from the "usual winter weather in SoBe."

On our last evening in Miami Beach, we watched the sunset from South Pointe Park and shared a sushi dinner at Hiro's Sushi Express on Washington Ave. with our gracious friends. 

M + I bid our farewells to J & Y and to each other, as we boarded separate planes:  me back to St. Louis and M to Washington, D.C.  The trip to Florida was a blessed reprieve for our long-distance marriage.  I got to spend time (even if for a moment) with my husband.  Every memory or moment I've shared with M, I am reminded of how little time we've had together during our first year of marriage.  In any case, my opinion of long-distance marriages remains the same:  regardless of how you attempt to sugarcoat it, they suck.

Apologies

my hubby reminded me yesterday of my 'slackiness' in updating my blogs recently.  my humblest apologies, internet world.  these past few weeks have been INSANE!! but I promise stories + loads of pics from holiday festivus + travels.  once I land in san francisco this AM, I'll get to cracking at them. lots of memories to share + thanks so much for your readership!!