I read something recently about one of the things that makes missionary kids unique--that every hello is attached to a goodbye. It may be a temporary "See you later," but more often it's the permanent version. It's realizing that the world you belong to is not a stationary, fixed place, and you are not permanently set in any one place. This past week we've had to play that game again, sadly.

The three missions interns I told you about before, finished their 10-week term and went back to college life at Lee University. While they were here, I was in the midst of full-time, everyday physical therapy. This opened the door for Camille and Caroline to step up to the plate, which they did. They made their momma proud. They were a bit nervous at first, but they fell in love with the three interns right off the bat and this helped a lot. My girls translated for the Saturday morning Bible classes the interns held for the community kids, for the three-times-a-week English classes, and for various other activities during their stay. Ken and I had the privilege to spend time with them in the evenings and on weekends, helping them process their experiences here and enjoying their perspectives. We shared a lot of meals together and took them along on some of our adventures. All three of these young ladies are majoring in intercultural studies at Lee, and they came here to live out what they'd been studying. They were also excellent examples of Godly young ladies, and it was absolutely thrilling to know that in these impressionable years, my girls had the chance to be influenced by these three. It was a sad thing to tell them goodbye. Of course we hope to see them again, but you know, you just don't ever know.

During the last two weeks of the interns' stay, a team of five young adults from Tennessee came for a week and a half. This coincided with the school system's winter break, so this team was also able to do lots of things with the children. (This group included the brother and sister of our neighbor Dana, who is here for 10 months to teach English in the school.) Again, my girls translated when needed and got to know this team. Their time included daily VBS and sports activities, as well as a major makeover to the playground and school assembly room. It was really funny to see them get all filthy in the paint, not really worrying about it, then realize that it was oil-based and wouldn't wash off.  :)  They were colorful for a week!  They played volleyball and basketball and soccer and field games with the kids, and Camille and Caroline picked up some new moves on the court. The team had a beautiful spirit of worship and shared their musical talents with us one night, in our living room. They grabbed up Ken's guitar and harmonized to lovely praise and worship songs we'd not heard yet, so we headed over to itunes to get a few. Caroline has a renewed interest in the guitar now.

I have some very definite ideas about short-term missions, which I plan to share on this blog soon. There are lots of ways that trips can go bad. But I can testify that these guys made a positive impact on the children of this community. I am sure that when they were preparing for and imagining their time in Paraguay, ministering to our family wasn't part of the plan. It's exactly what happened, though, and we thank God for blessing us through these two teams. (And for the internet, so goodbyes don't have to be permanent!)

The good news is, I'm still glad to be alive! And we're still glad to be in Paraguay. The bad news is, this leg thing is getting to be a bit complicated as of late. To catch you up, it's now been 5 months since the accident that broke my femur, and the surgery to repair it with the plate and screws just above my knee. I've been continuing with physical therapy about every-other-day, and I'm able to manage the pain most days.

I mostly just use the cane now, and if I'm in a small area, I can take a few awkward steps without it. I have to lean out a lot and kinda swing the leg, but it's possible, at least!! :) I just don't take any long walks anymore. With the cane, my balance isn't as good as it was with the walker, so sometimes I have to have someone on the other side of me, to hold their arm/hand while I'm walking, if it's any distance, or if I'm tired already, or if I'm on uneven terrain.

The last couple of weeks, I've had a new pain in my knee, which the doctor thought was tendonitis. An ultrasound didn't see anything like that, so he ordered an MRI, thinking it may be the meniscus. The image on the MRI didn't show up because of the metal in my plate interfering. At this point, no one knows for sure what it is that's torn or swollen in there. The only thing to do is apply ice and restrict the type of exercises I do, which is already taking its toll. I'm weaker in the leg as a whole, and the knee gives out sometimes while I'm walking.

That's the general overview, but here's where it gets sticky.... When the bone broke, it shattered at the end, and when the surgeon put it back in its place, he just did the best he could. It's in a pretty serious state of what's called valgum. This basically means that when I stand straight up, my right leg is normal, but the left knee veers way over to almost touch the right knee. This is not a good thing at all.

When the surgery first happened, there wasn't much talk about this part of it because, I guess?, the focus was on my physical condition from it being a femur break (blood loss, etc.), and the open wound situation. Then the realization a bit later that my leg had kinda frozen in too much interior rotation and had to be worked back to its proper spot over the next few months. Then the fact that my quadriceps was so emaciated and we had to step up the surgery. Add to that the fact that I stayed in the brace for too long, due to the wound, and the knee had to have a lot of work to start bending again. So in all that, no one mentioned that my leg was warped. I noticed that my kneecap pointed very inward, but the leg was still so swollen and there was the interior rotation problem. Every time I mentioned it, I was told to let all that clear up and we'd see. I had no clue it was anything more than that.

But there came this day when I saw myself in a long mirror and realized that the shape of my leg is all out of whack. I started asking all the right questions and found out that the medical folks already knew this and were just filling me in on a need to know basis. Smart, but I do hate to be the last one to find something out.

I have been speaking with Paraguayan and American doctors about this (I just went for my 4th "second opinion" this week), and the recommended treatment they all seem to agree on is this:

1. Start with a wedge in my left shoe, to try to open up the knee cavity. Right now it's squeezed shut on one side, which may account for the knee pain that we can't diagnose. I just got the wedge a few days ago and have been wearing it constantly. I'm not excited about the damage the wedge can do to the foot, ankle, etc., but the doctors and therapists say it's worth that damage in order to put my knee closer to its proper place. I've already gotten used to how it feels to walk with what feels like rocks in the shoe.

2. Removal of the plate and screws currently in my leg. This is optional, but definitely recommended because the plate is scrubbing against things it shouldn't, and it seems to be a big source of the pain in the outer leg. The doctor told me this week that the surgery itself is worse than the surgery to put it in, because they have to individually get those screws out of where the bone has already healed around them. And afterward, it would be like starting at ground zero again, similar to the recovery I've been doing for the past 5 months. I don't like the sound of that.

3. Osteotomy. This is a surgery to break either my tibia or my femur, on purpose, and take out a wedge of bone. The doctor suggested this as soon as I recover from #2 above. It would mean another expensive plate and screws, and again, a lengthy recovery. This would be a way to further relieve the pressure on the joint, that should give me 5-10 years before having to do #4.

4. Total knee replacement. They both said I'd want to do anything possible to prolong this, because they only last for 10-15 years, possibly 20. But at my age, that's too many possible replacements over my lifetime--I plan to be at least 100--and apparently you can only do so many replacements. They both also agreed that this was a definite thing. Of course, I don't call anything definite until I hear what God has to say about it, but this is what the x-rays and such show for now.

They say that each of these steps is a temporary fix to prolong having to go to the next step. I guess I don't have to tell you that none of this looks like my idea of a good time. I've told all of the medical professionals involved that I'm really holding out for a miracle and that they need not be surprised when it happens, so please join with me in prayer for this. Also, please pray for wisdom and guidance, and for peace. I am trying to remain all smiles and upbeat and positive, but I have to admit that I don't like the idea of more and more surgery, more and more rehabilitation, and starting back at square one a few more times in the "learning to walk" process. I trust God in every minute of this, knowing for sure that He is good, no matter what.

I say that so casually, as if, well, we just always hang out at the US Embassy. We're just that cool. Okay, not really. But Friday was a special day, and all US citizens living in Paraguay were invited to attend, not just our little family. We were hosted there for a special flag-raising ceremony in honor of the 235th birthday of these United States. A bit of 4th of July on the 1st of July, since the Embassy is, in fact, a government office, and we know that all government offices will be closed on Monday.

The news said it'd be cloudy and warm, so we planned accordingly. At the early hour that we had to leave the house, there was no way to know what it would really shape up to be. Well, it was C-O-L-D!!! We had to walk quite a ways from our parking spot, then sit under a little awning with the other expats, waiting for the gate to be opened. We shivered. Our teeth chattered. The wind was stiff and the sun was hiding behind some REALLY thick, ominously dark clouds. I felt like such a bad mother for bringing my family out like this in light coats and hoodies.

We were let in after a bit of magic metal-detecting wand waving, and lined up in front of the grassy area to await the ceremony. I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that embassies are officially United States territory, so we were on US soil. To one side was the Paraguayan Presidential band, who came to play a lovely rendition of the national anthem. Behind us was a section of the Paraguayan military who came in a sort of tribute to our big day. Nice, huh?
We heard some nice speeches (short, thankfully), a message from Secretary of State Clinton to US citizens living abroad, and a reading of some patriotic documents. Then some very sharp Marines walked a huge folded flag up to the pole and began the ceremonial unfolding and attaching to the rope. (I'm sure there are real military terms for that, huh?) I have to admit that the sight of our military guys, all uniformed and at attention, does always send a chill of national pride up my spine. I know it's not politically correct to be patriotic, but that's one of the things I kinda hate about our current state of affairs--that patriotism and pride in our country is discouraged. But that's another blog for another day. No ugly comments, please. Back to the Embassy.
It's cold, cloudy, windy, and a bit rainy. The Marines begin to fasten the flag to those little hooks, and the wind stops. The sun comes out. I'm not even kidding. We all stood VERY still and soaked up the sunlight, watching these men carefully handle this symbol of our heritage, our home. It took them a minute or two to get it in position to begin raising it, and as it neared the top, the wind started back up and whipped Old Glory out to show all her stars and stripes. What a moment! Worth every step from the parking area, every shiver of cold, even worth having to get up at an hour that I think is just inhumane. It was beautiful.
After that we were invited to hot chocolate, coffee, cupcakes, and chocolate chip cookies. Yep, chocolate chip cookies. You can't get more American than that, can you? We saw some folks we knew, met some new people, and spent some time talking to the Ambassador. Nice lady.
Caroline insisted on having her picture taken on the red carpet, after which several folks commented on her being a movie star.
It was great to be able to celebrate our Independence Day and remember that we are still one great nation, under God.