Praying for God's Will -

Recently I've been reading a book called The Circle Maker, by Mark Batterson.  Mark is the lead pastor of National Community Church, where I have lately been attending since moving here to D.C.  The book was actually given to me as a free takeaway after attending a service at their Barracks Row campus at The Miracle Theatre.

The Circle Maker is about praying circles around your biggest dreams and fears; about praying about humanly unattainable things in order to push our faith further and to trust in God.

One thing that came up in the book and turned into a discussion with my mom was the idea of praying for things according to God's will.  By that I mean a prayer such as, "Dear Lord, I'd really like this job.  If it is Your will, let it be so!"  Now, on the surface, this prayer sounds not all that selfish and pretty great.  But there are a couple possible risks in there to be wary of.  

Both of them are in the "If it is Your will, let it be so!"  I have been praying some version of that for at least a decade.  "Help me to follow Your will," or "Please show me Your will," or, like the example, "Please let this be Your will."  Again, there is really nothing wrong with these, as written.  We genuinely would like to know God's will so that it would be a heck of a lot easier to go about life.  But really, all we are doing is asking God to do something for us.  We are not being proactive about it.  I'm not saying that we can presume to know God's will or that we can do things without God. I'm simply saying that we can make an educated guess about it and take some action so that we aren't just sitting around waiting for something to happen.

The main risk is that you use "Let it be Your will," or "Show me Your will," as a cop out.  If the thing doesn't work out, or if the answer to your prayer is in the negative, then you can say, "Well I guess it wasn't in God's will!"  Or if you still don't have a good grip on God's will, you can say, "Well I guess He hasn't shown it to me, yet!  Sure wish he would!"  His will is written all through the bible and, especially, the new testament.  Love one another.  There you go.  Start there.

So, instead of praying, "Let it be Your will," I'm going to try and idea I got about this based on something in Les Miserables by Victor Hugo (the original book, not the musical!)  I'm gonna try praying, "Okay God.  I believe it is Your will for _____ to happen.  To show you how much I believe it is Your, I am going to do everything in my power to make it happen.  I will work as hard as I can to achieve it.  If You help me, then it will surely come about.  I will do my best to do Your will, always.  But I will DEFINITELY fail since I am not perfect and so please help me be more disciplined about it.  However, in regards to the prayer at hand, this is me letting you know that I am going full steam ahead here so if it's not in Your will, You'd better stop me."

For those interested, I have pasted the passage from Les Miserables that gave me the idea at the bottom of this blog.

-Chip

P.S. - Les Miserables, along with many other copyright-expired books, is free on Kindle (or other e-readers).  The entire book is filled with examples of following God's will and being morally just.  It's actually a great Christian read, in my humble opinion.  It is quite long, though.  And somewhat dense.

Edit: I have finished Les Miserables.  While it is a great book with poetic writing, an incredible story line and tones of historical information, I will add that there were long sections where Victor Hugo basically went on rants about the structure of society, or historical attributes of barricades, or simply street layouts of France at that time.  About halfway through the book I started skipping over these sections.  I'm still a Jean Valjean fan, though.

In this passage, Jean Valjean is following what he believes to be God's will and doing all in his power to accomplish the task of traveling to a court in Arras, even though it means being condemned and sent to prison. The authorities there believe they have captured a Jean Valjean and the true Valjean is intent on saving that innocent man.  He would rather suffer than to betray God.  On the way to Arras, though, his cart broke.

It was evident that Providence was intervening. That it was it who had broken the wheel of the tilbury and who was stopping him on the road. He had not yielded to this sort of first summons; he had just made every possible effort to continue the journey; he had loyally and scrupulously exhausted all means; he had been deterred neither by the season, nor fatigue, nor by the expense; he had nothing with which to reproach himself. If he went no further, that was no fault of his. It did not concern him further. It was no longer his fault. It was not the act of his own conscience, but the act of Providence. He breathed again. He breathed freely and to the full extent of his lungs for the first time since Javert's visit. It seemed to him that the hand of iron which had held his heart in its grasp for the last twenty hours had just released him. It seemed to him that God was for him now, and was manifesting Himself. He said himself that he had done all he could, and that now he had nothing to do but retrace his steps quietly. If his conversation with the wheelwright had taken place in a chamber of the inn, it would have had no witnesses, no one would have heard him, things would have rested there, and it is probable that we should not have had to relate any of the occurrences which the reader is about to peruse; but this conversation had taken place in the street. Any colloquy in the street inevitably attracts a crowd. There are always people who ask nothing better than to become spectators. While he was questioning the wheelwright, some people who were passing back and forth halted around them. After listening for a few minutes, a young lad, to whom no one had paid any heed, detached himself from the group and ran off. At the moment when the traveller, after the inward deliberation which we have just described, resolved to retrace his steps, this child returned. He was accompanied by an old woman. "Monsieur," said the woman, "my boy tells me that you wish to hire a cabriolet." These simple words uttered by an old woman led by a child made the perspiration trickle down his limbs. He thought that he beheld the hand which had relaxed its grasp reappear in the darkness behind him, ready to seize him once more. He answered:— "Yes, my good woman; I am in search of a cabriolet which I can hire." And he hastened to add:— "But there is none in the place." "Certainly there is," said the old woman. "Where?" interpolated the wheelwright. "At my house," replied the old woman. He shuddered. The fatal hand had grasped him again. The old woman really had in her shed a sort of basket spring-cart. The wheelwright and the stable-man, in despair at the prospect of the traveller escaping their clutches, interfered. "It was a frightful old trap; it rests flat on the axle; it is an actual fact that the seats were suspended inside it by leather thongs; the rain came into it; the wheels were rusted and eaten with moisture; it would not go much further than the tilbury; a regular ramshackle old stage-wagon; the gentleman would make a great mistake if he trusted himself to it," etc., etc. All this was true; but this trap, this ramshackle old vehicle, this thing, whatever it was, ran on its two wheels and could go to Arras. 

3 Year Anniversary and Other Updates

Well, it's officially been over three years since that Easter Sunday when I told Stephen and Leah, "You go ahead to church, I'll ride my scooter there and meet you."  What a cost for laziness!  On the way home I was hit by a van, changing my life forever (along with the lives of friends and family).  Everything below my belly button was paralyzed.  The doctor told me I had almost no chance of walking again, then pulled my parents aside and told them, "I didn't have the heart to tell him that there is really no chance of him walking again.  He will be in a wheelchair for life."  With prayer and modern medicine (which I believe is also a blessing from God but that is a theological discussion for another time), I regained sensation and motion all the way down to my toes.  Rebecca was in Mozambique and took the next flight home, unaware of what exactly had happened.

I've come a heck of a long way since then.  It's hard to believe sometimes, since of course I tend to dwell on what I CAN'T do.  It's hard not to when I used to run marathons and bike all around downtown Chicago.  But I have much to be thankful for, truly.  I have a great support system in my family.  There is still plenty that I am capable of doing, even physical.  My upper body works overtime now and there is a very good chance that regardless of who you are, I can bench more than you and do more dips.  Ha!  Benefits of using the wheelchair and crutches constantly.  And my stamina has increased a ton in the past few years.  It's no big deal to take my wheelchair for miles throughout DC, where we now live.  It's a workout, sure, but I don't really breath hard or anything.  Anyway, on to the updates!

I'm still recovering, definitely.  I stand in the shower and use both hands to bath and shampoo which I don't think I could do a year ago.  I can easily get up from the ground using my crutches or really anything.  I'm up to something like 20 steps using absolutely nothing, even though it's mainly my right leg (Ralph) and so I tend to kind of drift to the right while I walk like that.  And that is with no braces, too.  My brace for Louie is in the closet just in case, but I haven't used it in months.  That's pretty nice to say.  Here are a few other random ways of showing my progress, with some other random pics included:





My family recently all met up in Gulf Shores for a beach vacation.  I insisted on going deep sea fishing, not sure if I was even able to do it.  Happily, I did, and the crew kept giving me some sort of fancy bait that allowed me to catch way more than everyone else.  All red snapper.  We had a feast afterwards.  Left to right: Me, brother Marc, his girlfriend Alyssa, and my dad.



I tried fishing standing like everyone else for a few minutes.  The fact that some of the fish we were catching were 25-30 pounds and took a ton of work to pull in (not to mention we were on a rocking boat) explained why half the crew looked at me like I would go over the rail at any moment.  I reeled in my line to check the bait and as the large hook swung around in the air, I decided it would be easier to grab it seated.  The crew looked thankful and went back to whatever it was they were doing.



When we hit the beach, I decided I was gonna get in the ocean if it killed me.  That's me and my brother Marc in the pic.  I can walk okay if I hold onto the shoulders of the person in front of me.  But that's on dry, flat land with shoes on.  Walking in sinking sand with water splashing around worked just enough to get me into knee-high water, at which point I promptly fell on my side and made my way out to deeper waters.  It was cool, though!  My spastic legs made a board out of themselves so that I basically didn't need a raft.  Not bad, legs.



Marc and I post ocean excursion.  Not long after seeing this picture I decided to cut my own hair.  Rebecca said I did a good job at it so screw you, Super Cuts.  I don't need your cheap and unpredictable haircuts anymore!



Dad and I successfully completed the first 5 holes at Sleep Hollow, which we had played about 1000 times over the years, before my legs started giving out. especially Louie, the bastard.  Come on Louie I want to play more golf!!!! As a reminder, Louie is my rebellious left leg that refuses to listen to me, even when it's in his interest to do so.

We worked out a system so that I would tell my dad what club I wanted, position myself with my crutches by the ball, trade the crutches for the club, smack it, then trade back.  It worked well.  I drove the cart, too, which was cool.  Ralph's foot works just fine, by the way.  So I drive all the time now.  I am lucky that Louie isn't needed to drive otherwise I'd crash immediately.  Or just not drive, I guess.

Clearly I am extremely graceful.  

This is me whacking at the ball on a driving range and also an example of how I managed to beat my dad at golf by 4 strokes over 5 holes.  I think my lack of lower body movement made the ball go straight, which was nice.  My form is obviously flawless.  I'm happy to give lessons for a fee.

I've learned that I can walk with a shopping cart at places like the grocery and Target.  I can't do it all day or anything but it's great therapy.  If I push down on the cart too much it does a wheelie.

I also played around with the filter on my phone with some pics of our dog, Tucky.  This has absolutely nothing to do with anything.  I just like them.








Well that's about it.  Rebecca and I moved to DC about a month ago.  We live in what I consider to be a fancy apartment in the NOMA neighborhood downtown, very close to the Capitol building.  As an example of the fanciness of our building, here is Rebecca washing Tucky in the pet room which includes a dog-washing station.



DC is cool.  Very busy and everyone is ambitious, it seems like.  I guess they have to be to pay the pricey rent.  Rebecca started is back doing international work and will be traveling soon to Mongolia and Rwanda.  I'm still figuring out what's next but am certainly eager to work.

I'm also going to be starting a new blog where I can write more often.  I don't write as much here because it was predicated on informing how my recovery and progress were going.  Since recovery is fairly slow now, there's not a need to write very often.  I'll still occasionally post here, but I'm going to start another blog that is more about everything else in life and not so much about my recovery.

Since a friend mentioned she liked the "how easy it is to come by" part, I'll share what has become the basics of our dinner prayer:

Dear Lord, thank You for this food and the hands that made it.  Thank you for how easy it is to come by.  Guide us in all we do.  Align our wills with Yours.  Help us to understand how best to serve You and how best to use our lives.  Be with our family and friends and guide them, as well.  Thanks for Tucky, too.  In Jesus name, Amen.  

Good night!

Chip

Moving Mattresses (Pt. 2)

You may have read about my insane desire to move a bunch of beds around in Cape Town to surprise Rebecca.  Long story short, to this day she doesn't understand how I was able to move huge mattresses and heavy bed frames in and out of bedrooms.  All in a wheelchair.  It still confuses her.  Mission accomplished.

This is part two of the same theme.  Here in Chapel Hill, Rebecca is finishing up her MBA studies.  We know that soon we will (hopefully) be working again and so one thing we have both done is utilize the time to travel and see friends and family.  A big one for me was visiting my brother-in-law and his wife in Kyrgyzstan.  Shortly after arriving in our second apartment (another story) in Chapel Hill, Rebecca visited friends and family on the west coast, leaving me at home to organize and take care of our dog, Tucky.

One downside of the new apartment was that, while fully-furnished, the bed was tiny and uncomfortable.  I flop around all night.  Basically I have restless leg syndrome on steroids and I try and rectify it by getting into a sideways push-up position and then flipping in the air, landing on the bed and often waking up my sleeping wife.  Rebecca also has a habit where she unconsciously insists on being in the middle of the bed, letting me know she has accomplished her goal by sleep-slapping me in the chest or, on special occasions, in the face.  Sometimes I am having one of my all-too-regular middle of the night reading sessions and am treated to this performance as a spectator and not as an unwilling victim.  She groans, rolls towards me, and swings her long arm high in the air, hand relaxed, landing finally on my chest.  It makes me laugh.  It's odd how high her arm gets.  She is either dreaming of giving a vicious haymaker to someone in a fight or maybe just a huge hug.  Her other arm is trapped against the bed so it's hard to tell.

Back to the story.  I had become determined to have a repeat performance of musical beds before she returned.  This time I decided to have other people do the lifting as much as possible.  We needed a nice queen or king bed but only for the two months before the lease was up, thus not worth much investment.  This was the dilemma.  My answer was Craigslist.  I had recently read of a study showing that people were more willing to help out of kindness than they would help for a dollar amount.  This seemed like an opportune time to test the theory.

Instead of searching for cheap mattresses, I put the maximum price as $0.  Surprisingly, several were for sale at this price.  This alone proved the theory, I thought.  Many looked like garbage but some were quite nice.  The first two I called were already taken.  Third time's a charm.  The girl said that her boyfriend was moving in and they each had a nice mattress and needed to get rid of one.  Great!  I immediately agreed to pick it up that same night, as she had other interested parties and was only giving to me since I was first to respond.  I was not in a position to negotiate.  At this point, I did not have a way of getting the mattress and she lived in Cary, NC, annoyingly.  Did I mention that we don't own a car?

I called up a couple places before quickly settling on trustworthy U-Haul.  I took an Uber to get the truck.  I realized that I had no way of moving the mattress (and box springs) from the current owner's apartment to the U-Haul, nor from the U-Haul into my current 6th floor apartment.  Another dilemma.

On the way to get the U-Haul, I texted the mattress giver and asked if she had a way of getting the items into the truck.  I asked about the boyfriend she mentioned and also brought up my wheelchair.  She said her boyfriend could help.  Great!

For help with the arrival to my apartment, I was bewildered.  I thought and thought and realized I had done a poor job of making the kind of friends that would move a mattress in a pinch.  In truth, I had done a very good job at avoiding making new friends altogether.  But now I am friends with a pastor and a couple other members of a church here so I suppose I failed at total solitude in the end.

Back to Craigslist to perform the true part of the kindness experiment.  I posted the following ad:

Move a Mattress and Box Springs

Hi - I'm asking you to help me out!  I am disabled and am trying to move a mattress and box springs into my apartment today.  I have a spinal cord injury and am in a wheelchair so I can't really move it without damn near killing myself in the effort!  I'm asking you for a favor, here.

All I need are a couple guys to move a queen mattress and box spring from the U-Haul to my apartment TONIGHT.  There is an elevator - no stairs.  It will be around 8 or 8:30.  If you are willing to help, text me and let me know and I'll give you the address and exact time.

NO PAY

Now, the response to this ad is the true reason why I have written about this event in my life.  Within an hour I had 4 responses from willing candidates!  Within 2 hours I had several more.  I couldn't believe it!  My cynical side starting thinking, "They are just trying to take advantage of me somehow.  Maybe they will see it as an opportunity to rob a helpless victim."  I decided that was a terrible way to think and also that it was unlikely that there were so many thieves out there.  I also decided that risking it and possibly getting robbed was better than not risking it at the potential of robbery.  That would be no way to live.

I worked things out with one of the first to respond and everything was set.  

I drove the U-Haul to Cary, NC.  Check.

Girl and boyfriend loaded their very nice but used queen mattress and box spring into said U-Haul.  Check.

Drove back to Chapel Hill, first texting the guy to meet me and help unload.  Check.

Worry about helplessly getting robbed and immediately purge thought from mind.  Unplanned but check.

The guy was a little late but he said he was dropping off his mom somewhere.  I figured a thief wouldn't say something like that and relaxed a little.  

A beat up car rolled up close to my apartment blasting loud rap music.  A very fit and fairly intimidating (to me, at least) black guy got out from one side, and a younger black guy got out of the other side.  Lots of smoke with the distinct smell of marijuana rolled out of the open car doors.  

"Hi... I'm Chip.  Are you Joe?"

"Yeah man.  What's up.  Is this it?" Joe pointed at the U-Haul.

"Yep.  Thanks guys.  I can open doors for you but otherwise would probably just get in the way if I tried to help."  

"It's all good, man.  We got you.  This here is my nephew."  "Hi." "Hi."

At this point I feel like an ass for judging at all based on appearances.   But my stupid brain still can't believe this is happening for free.  

They begin unloading the mattress and taking it up the walkway, through the doors and into the elevator.  Joe had to kind of bend and squish the mattress to make it fit in the elevator.  

We didn't talk much.  I showed them around, generally not being much help.  I had already moved the smaller mattress and frame (it was really light) out into the living room so they could just walk in and plop down the mattress.  

We went back down to get the box springs, walked through the doors and into the elevator.... trying.... stand upright?.... no... crap.  It didn't fit.  

Joe said, "Well, so much for that.  Where are the stairs?"  He didn't seem upset in the slightest, nor did the nephew.
"Joe! Crap man I'm sorry.  I thought it would fit.  Just leave it here.  I will figure it out or something.  I can't ask you guys to take this thing up 6 flights of steps!"  I figured I'd just throw it out and sleep on the mattress on the floor or something.

"Chip it's no biggie.  My nephew needs a workout.  Where are the stairs?"  I couldn't believe it and also felt terrible.  I pointed to the stairs, took the elevator up, then went to the stairwell and looked down.

"I know this wasn't in your plans.  Sorry."  

"Really it's no biggie."

"....So....do you guys just scour Craigslist looking for people you can help out?  Or how did you come across my ad?"  

"Well I run a moving business during the day.  Sometimes I find folks that will pay for little things like this on the side.  I do it all day anyway so it's no big deal.  But when I saw your ad, my nephew here had gotten in trouble at school, so I figured it was a good way for him to do something good to make up for the bad thing."  

"I see.  Well that makes sense."

I insisted on giving them some gas money but still couldn't believe all this.  I went in, sprayed some disinfectant on the mattress which clearly cost over $1000 brand new, put a perfect fitting foam pad on the top, made the bed with clean sheets, and tested it out.  It was awesome!  I smiled a giant smile.  Rebecca was gonna love this.

And she did.  She made me tell her the story and kept smiling and laughing the whole time.  She has been begging me to write about it ever since.   

I continued to get responses on Craigslist from people wanting to help.  Instead of deleting, I added this to the post:

UPDATE: I HAD QUITE A FEW RESPONSES TO THIS - ALL PEOPLE WILLING TO HELP ME MOVE A HEAVY MATTRESS AND ITS BOX SPRING - ALL FOR FREE!  MY FAITH IN HUMANITY WAS RESTORED.  THANK YOU SO MUCH!  AND THANK YOU TO YOU AND YOUR NEPHEW, JOE!

Here's to Joe and his nephew, wherever they are.

Not Entirely Voluntary Workout

I'd say involuntary workout, but it wasn't like someone forced me to do it.   Rebecca, Tucky and I just moved into a new apartment close to UNC where she (Rebecca, not Tucky) is a "foreign exchange" student.  We live on the 6th floor with a nice balcony.  It came furnished, including a large (60"?) TV that has what looks like a large green moon taking up approximately 30% of the screen (guessing some party got out of hand) and is generally dim, since it's old.  Also a bed that is supposedly a queen but what I now refer to as an African Queen, which is basically the opposite of a California King.  Our feet hang off the bottom and we bumped into each other all night, barely sleeping.  But this story is not about that.

Yesterday Rebecca flew to California to see friends and family in what is probably (/hopefully) the limited time remaining when we aren't employed.  I got in my chair and took Tucky out for a walk this morning.  We got in the elevator and I pushed "1." But the elevator was not in the mood to be ordered around, or rather up and down, and let me out at the basement.  Tucky and I were fine with that as we wanted to explore, anyway.  So we went out the back door and wandered around a bit.  After Tucky did her business, we went back inside and took the disgruntled elevator back up.  At our desired 6th floor, the elevator laughed at us and took us straight back down to the basement.  Not one to give up easily (nor Tucky), I repressed "6" and refused to get out.  The elevator took us back up to 6, hesitated briefly, then laughed and said, "Yeah right, sucka!" and took us back down to the basement.  At this point we decided to part ways with the hellevator, which had added violent shakes to its erratic behavior.  We departed and waited until it headed back up to the 6th floor (we could only assume, however it may have very well known that we had left), then pressed the "up" button, hoping the other elevator would treat us better.  Unfortunately, the hellevator had apparently knocked its more innocent brother into a coma, leaving it incapacitated on the first floor.  Instead of the other elevator, the hellevator came back down, opened, and laughed its evil laugh.  Tucky looked at me, clearly as frustrated as I was.

We went back outside and up the hill of the parking lot and made our way around and up to the first floor to talk with the office management, passing the poor, comatose elevator on the way, it's mouth frozen open. In the office, they told me the repairmen were told to come out ASAP since there were no working elevators.  I felt sorry for them since they clearly hadn't had to deal with a guy in a wheelchair and his dog while elevators were out before.  When I said I couldn't really get upstairs to my apartment, Dallas said, "Yeah... ummm...  hmmmm...." in a kind of genuinely helpless way.  It was decided that Dallas (they have names like that in North Carolina) would walk Tucky back upstairs, get my brace and crutches so I could walk up the stairs, and bring the chair up when the elevators were working again.  I broke the news to him that if they weren't working in the next few hours, he was going to need to bring the chair up 6 flights of stairs.  "No problem."  Dallas is a good guy.

The 6 flights of stairs and I guess also the hill to get to the 1st floor were my not entirely voluntary workout.  I could have just sat downstairs or gone to a coffee shop I guess, so it wasn't a forced workout, which would have made it involuntary.   I should add that I feel grateful that I was able to walk up the stairs.  Some of my friends could not have done that and would have had to go hang out at the coffee shop.  For this reason I now recommend not taking your wheelchair into an elevator wearing pajamas.

First Day Back in Therapy -

Yesterday I started therapy back up for the first time since I think April 2014.  I'll be going 2-3 times a week at Norton's Rehab Center in Louisville, Kentucky.  I'm pretty excited about it.  They are somewhat overshadowed by but no less qualified and able than Frazier's Rehab in Louisville.  Frazier's gets all the funding by the Reeves Foundation and have had breakthroughs in a couple studies.  But for basic therapy, Norton's is equally as good (supposedly).

Yesterday I had my assessment test, similar to what I regularly did with Tiffany and Walter at RIC.  I still can't step up with my left leg, however when I tried I was able to lift it off the ground an inch or two and hold it there.  So there is hope!!!  I still can't stand from a chair without using my arms to push off, but it is far easier.  I'm hopeful that at some point in the future I will cross the breaking point and no longer need to use my hands to stand.  Overall my back, while still weaker than before the accident, is much stronger than it was a year ago.  Especially my upper back.  My lower back has a ways to go, still.  I don't know if the fact that there is a titanium cage in my lower back has anything to do with it.  I don't think so.  It is just atrophied from barely using it for so long.

There were two pieces of the test that I passed with flying colors that I couldn't do a year ago.  One is to turn in a full circle - 360 degrees - without the use of crutches or anything.  I think there is also a test to do in under a minute because when I started turning without too much trouble using baby steps, Kara, my new therapist, said, "We should have timed this..."  But I was able to baby step my way fully around!  Cool...

The other test was to pick up an object from the ground from a standing, unassisted position.  Kara had me pick up a magic marker.  I put my left hand on my left leg (Louie) to steady it, but otherwise was able to bend over, pick it up, and return to standing straight up without terrible trouble.  I mean, it was HARD, but I was able to do it!  So...yeah... progress.

I will try and get a video and/or some pics once actual therapy starts.  I should have gotten one of me turning and picking up the marker.  Oh well.

Dear Lord, thank You for the healing I've experienced to date and for the progress I continue to make.  Please allow these new therapy sessions to yield fruitful results.  Heal me, Lord!  Let me be fully healed.  But also, thank You for strengthening me with Your Holy Spirit so that I can go about life with confidence and ambition, moreso than I've ever had before.  Please help everyone with their own personal struggles and journeys.  Strengthen us all and make us resilient, wise, and confident in the paths You have laid out before us, regardless of what they look like.  Amen.

I hope everyone is enjoying the Christmas and holiday season no matter where you are in the world.

Chip

Kyrgyzstan Part II: Nature Exploration

We are having tons of fun here!  

And it is way more beautiful than I would have ever imagined once you get out into nature, which is the vast majority of the country.  After a couple more interesting stops in the city, Stephen, Leah and I headed out for a tour of a few cooler places surrounding Lake Issyk Kul (Hot Lake), which is one of the largest salt water lakes in the world.  Here is the story in pictures.

Similar to underground walkways in Chicago, this pathway was how to cross one of the busiest streets in Bishkek.  I was shocked to see it jam-packed with vendors selling all assortments of merchandise: sunglasses, shampoo, art, etc.  My picture does not do a good job of showing that.  I think that girl was annoyed that I was taking a picture.

I caught the changing of the guard!  They walk slowly back to their... barracks(?), goose-stepping it in style.

The next day we began our trip.

On the 4-hour drive to our first stop, we occasionally had to deal with herds of cattle or sheep. 

This is the yurt camp where we stayed the first night.  You can see the mountains in the far background.  Yurts are like fancier versions of tee-pees or huts.  They have a somewhat complex latticework holding them up, while being layered in what I guess used to be sheep's hide, but now is very, very thick wool or cotton.

The entrance is through small wooden doors.  Then a giant hide flap folds over those to keep the heat in.  They reminded us of Smurf huts.  We met a few others staying in the camp including a couple guys from Slovakia and a girl from Vienna, Austria.  We got to know each other over a traditional community-style dinner in the dining yurt.

This is what the dining yurt looked like inside, kind of.  I didn't meet these people.  I stole this picture from the internet.

We slept in a yurt like this (also stolen from internet).  The blankets were surprisingly thick, heavy, and very warm.

All those wooden supports meet in the center at the top of the yurt.  The sun shining through the opening (this one is covered) is the basis for their flag:

The next day we explored a really cool nature park.  This was one of several connected rock formations.  We even saw some mountain goats walking up those cracks.

We had to wait while a pretty large horse drive (80-100 horses!) moved past us down the mountain.  All summer, livestock grazes on the hills higher up the mountain.  They head down to the valleys and plains for the winter months.

Some semi-domesticated turkeys, clearly not intimidated by us.

We stumbled upon this cool area fairly high up the trail and decided to stop for lunch.

I couldn't believe I was looking at this while eating lunch.  Ridiculous.  The grass is short from all the animals eating it.  Cool huh?  No mower!

I think the dogs just wanted some of our food.

My favorite pic from the trip.

We were sitting on yet another rudimentary bridge.  They were all pretty sturdy but I still help my breath every time we crossed one.  We saw one made out of an old shipping container.  I wish I had taken a picture of it.  Sorry.

This is another park we went to on the trip.  One thing that stood out was all the golden aspens we saw everywhere.  This picture doesn't do it justice at all.  Up close and caught by the sun, they looked like glittering gold leaves.  Really cool.

Back in Bishkek!  Last night Stephen had hockey practice so I went to check it out.  I think he's the one in the back in yellow.  Fun times.

I head back to Cape Town tomorrow morning.  It's been a really awesome stay here.  The best part has been catching up with Stephen and Leah.  Bonuses include seeing awesome nature, meeting Russians and Kyrgyz and being able to at least start conversations with them, and learning about the culture and history of this town.

My secondary goal of testing my ability to get around in a 3rd world country has certainly been achieved here.  I am very happy to see that, while I clearly can't do everything a typical person could do, I can manage alright... ESPECIALLY when I have awesome friends to help me get around everywhere.  I see no reason why I would be unable to travel to pretty much anywhere.  People everywhere I go are consistently willing to help me whenever I need it.  Here in Kyrgyzstan, random strangers have carried my wheelchair up a flight of stairs, helped me out of cabs, retrieved my crutches for me, etc., all while barely being able to communicate with me.  I'm increasingly convinced that people are inherently good with good intentions.  We may get side-tracked with selfish motives or ambition, but overall I think people want to do what is good and right.  

Dear Lord, thanks for this awesome experience.  Thanks for Stephen and Leah for helping out so much and being such great friends.  Help me to continue to live my life unrestrained by my physical limitations.  Let me remember that when we partner with others, we can always accomplish more and that when we partner with You, we can accomplish the most.  Guide us in all we do.  Remind us that ambition without concern for Your will is a chasing of the wind.  Everything we do that is not for You is meaningless.  Please keep healing me, and heal everyone else, too.  Help everyone through their personal struggles and remind them that keeping You close makes life so much easier.  In Your name, amen.

Cheers,
Chip

PS - I set my mom up with a blog.  She e-mails prayers ALL THE TIME to the family.  Typically they reference bible verses and quotes from authors and pastors.  I thought it was with sharing with everyone else.  If you want to check it out, here it is - http://battoeprayers.blogspot.com/

Chip Goes to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan (Where???)

Greetings from Kyrgyzstan!

If you just want to see my walking progress, scroll down to the bottom for a video I just uploaded to YouTube.  There are some other videos on my page if you're interested.

Quick Acupuncture Update- I have been 6-7 times (the acupuncturist and I disagree) now and it is hard to say whether or not it is helping.  What I can say is that is less painful every time.  Dr. Lang says this is because at first my body basically thought it was being attacked and now it is better at accepting it.  It seems that there is a possibility that it is improving the feeling (sensation) in my legs and also helping with some bladder stuff as going to the bathroom is less urgent.  It also seems like I spasm less and have less tone in my legs.  But I am not being too scientific about it all so I don't know if I'm experiencing placebo effect or not.  I'm on break now while traveling.

I decided to use the free time I have to visit Rebecca's brother Stephen and his wife Leah in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan.  I'm currently here in Bishkek.  I figured it would achieve a few things:

Reason 1) To see Stephen and Leah, who were my friends in Chicago well before I knew Rebecca and the reason I met Rebecca (by singing at their wedding).  Stephen and I met in our church small group there and found out we had a decent amount in common.

The three of us on top of a lookout point overlooking the city.  Unfortunately it was extremely windy and Bishkek was cloudy.  Still fun, regardless.

Reason 2) To see if my desire to travel to exotic places in the world is unrealistic given my condition, making being in unaccessible places depressing and not worth it - OR - if I would be able to manage it well enough to enjoy it.

Reason 3) To learn about a new and interesting culture, see the sites, and typical other things tourists do.  (see exotic places referenced in #2)

This is Kyrgyzstan in relation to China and other 'stans:

It used to be part of the USSR.  It's one of the 'stans, which you probably already realized.  There are about 5.5 million people in the country, which is about the size of Nebraska in terms of land area.  Most of it is mountainous, with some as high as 26,000 feet.  Major horse country.  Horses are everywhere, with more when you leave the city.  The people here are REALLY nice, and look somewhat Mongolian (hopefully that is not a bad thing to say).  The accessibility is atrocious.  I would say that if you are confined to the wheelchair to not come here.  I am lucky that a) I can walk (slowly) with crutches, b) I have great friends in Stephen and Leah that help me get around and act as my chauffeurs, and c) I am not shy about telling people to, "Help, please?" or, "Get out of the way, please!" or anything else where shy people might have issues like trying to talk to a taxi driver that doesn't speak English.  I can say these things in Russian, now, which helps a lot.

In the first week here I took 10 hours of Russian.  I can now say the basics, understand their completely confusing alphabet, and some other basic things like somewhat understanding a menu (not really) and ordering food.  Helpful.  For taxis I just get in and hand the guy an address and say, "Cto com?" (pronounced "shtow sohm," and meaning 100 of their currency) which is right now equal to about $1.43.  That gets me most places.  Well, Stephen and Leah get me most places.  It's very cheap here.  Most meals are about $2-3.  Pretty good food, too.  Imagine what you'd get mixing Chinese, Turkish, and Russian foods together, then throw in the occasional horse meat, and you can almost taste the food here.

Russian teacher #1: Tatiana

Russian teacher #2: Lojamal (or something)

Stephen and Leah have moved here to join up with an agricultural business focused on chickens, chicken feed, and eggs.  Leah also works at a medical clinic here.  A huge reason they chose this area is because after the Soviet Union fell, most of the educated Russians left the city (brain drain), leaving the Kyrgyz to fend for themselves.  This is similar to what I saw in Maputo, Mozambique after the Portuguese left and, to a lesser extent, what is happening in post-Apartheid South Africa. There is a huge lack of know-how here, especially in business, government, and health care.  In other words, everything.

Here are some pics I've taken so far here:

This is a monument to honor the revolution(s) here.  They have had some serious political issues, including a revolution in 2005 and another in 2010, with the latter climaxing when the corrupt President holed up in the government building with snipers on the roof shooting at protestors below while he escaped out the back.  Sounds like something out of a movie and it's surreal to see where it all transpired, just 5 years ago.  

There are two of these making up two sides of "The Square," which is the center of the touristy part of the city.  Behind me in this picture is the museum, giant flag, and statue I will show below.

They have a changing of the guard every hour, all day, similar to England.  They are guarding the flag.  I haven't caught them changing, yet, and don't care enough to sit around and wait for it.  Maybe I'll get lucky soon.

Most cars here are pretty... economical.  But then there is a huge disparity in wealth with essentially no middle class.  There are Range Rovers, BMW and Lexus SUVs, and then the occasional collectors' car like this one.  The owner claimed it was from 1921.  I didn't have the heart to tell him he was a few decades off.

This used to be a statue of Lenin, but after the Soviet Union fell they replaced it with a warrior from their culture from many centuries ago.

Lenin, demoted to the rear of the museum instead of the front.  They gave him some flowers to ease the blow.

To me it's really interesting that they didn't tear down the statue of Lenin like many other countries did at the end of the Cold War.  Because of the previously mentioned "brain drain," and the fact that the cold war was their most prosperous time, they have a certain nostalgia associated with the Soviet era.  Pretty interesting.

Russian beer at an Indian restaurant.  Sorry I clipped your face, Leah.

Here I asked for whatever was the popular local dish.  It turned out to have horse meat in it.  It wasn't bad.  Just kind of chewy, similar to venison, so I was already suspecting.  I was giving the thumbs up for another reason.  Not for horse meat.  Beef is better.  Lazy animals taste better.

Leah filmed me walking around and going down some stairs so I could meet a goal issued to me by Tom Trimmer.  I am definitely still improving, thank God.  Here it is:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6W9umqQw1Ek

Dear Lord, thanks for the continued progress in my spinal cord recovery.  Help me to stay motivated and to not take too many "easy" days.  Thanks for strengthening me through this experience in Bishkek.  Thanks for always being there.  Please guide me in all I do.  My life is Yours to do with whatever You wish.  Help me to understand what is for You and what is selfish.  Keep me humble.  Fill us all with the Holy Spirit.  Calm our hearts and our minds so that we don't continue to make the same old mistakes.  We are human and therefore broken.  Help us.  Continue to heal me.  Thanks for everything.  In Jesus' name, Amen.  

Challenge: Every day for the next week, when you wake up or while you are in the shower, tell God three things that you are thankful/grateful for.  If you are not into God for the moment, then just tell somebody.  At minimum tell yourself.  Why wait for Thanksgiving?  It's been proven to improve your level of happiness to do this.  Plus it's just a good idea.  If you are married or whatever, say it to each other, or go around the table at dinner with your family.  I have been trying to do this and it typically puts me in a good mood.

Chip

The Acupuncturist

Hi!  Well it's been a while (months) since my last blog.  It started feeling egotistical to both blog and write my book so I pushed pause on both.  It felt and still feels like it is presumptuous to share anecdotes from my life unless they are somehow worthy.  I have no idea what makes something "worthy," but I believe today definitely hit the mark.  Before that, here is a quick Chip-style bullet update on things:

• I now only uses canes around the house.  This is harder but keeps me from getting lazy and keeps me working.  
• I have been working out at a gym called B.U.C. Fitness Club a lot.   They have posted a few videos of me on Facebook and Instagram (most recently Instagram) working out.  They love a) that a guy in a wheelchair still hits the gym hard and doesn't make excuses, and that b) it demonstrates how versatile their gym and equipment are.  
• Rebecca and I headed to the US in June for her brother Chris's wedding to the lovely Emily Franklin.  Awesome wedding including a surprise visit by the Chick-fil-A cow during the reception.  I stood as a groomsmen and sang during the wedding and it went well.  After that we headed to hang with my family in Kentucky for a bit.  There I discovered that Norton's Healthcare's wheelchair center in Louisville is vastly superior to RIC's outsourced wheelchair clinic.  New wheelchair arriving soon!  Possibly sad that I am excited about that.  Also, I sang (the same song as at the wedding - Groban's You Raise Me Up) for Father's Day at church.  People seemed to like it.  
• I got my work visa (finally) here in South Africa.  We'll see what happens now.
• Other various travels and happenings.  Also I brewed some beer which is now carbonating or something.  I don't expect it to be good.

Chicken cow with the bride and groom.

That's in Annapolis.  I'm the guy with the crutches if you are slow.

Our little family.  Tucky is now 62 lbs.  

So back to today's story.  For my birthday a couple weeks ago, one of my gifts from Rebecca was a massage.  The guy had me in agony for a good hour and then recommended an acupuncturist.  The idea was that, "Who knows?  Maybe it will help?" but actually I had already researched acupuncture for spinal cord injuries a fair amount.  There was lots of promising evidence around it, but almost all of it was for people that got acupuncture early on (when you are recovering anyway).  But still, who knows?  

I had my appointment today with Dr. Lan here in Cape Town.  Highly recommended from Daniel the masseuse (Daniel is actually highly educated so I don't mean to infer anything there).  It didn't make me feel better that Dr. Lan's establishment was designated half to acupuncture treatments and half to Kung Fu training.  But I suppose that might seem normal in China.  I remained open-minded.  

I walked upstairs and waited my turn.  Dr. Lan saw me in his office, which was not much more than a desk in the corner of the waiting room.  I knew from the previous patient that everyone else could hear nothing I said to him, but everything that he said to me.  I told him about my condition and he promised me that there was a high likelihood of him helping, that he had helped countless stroke patients, people with sciatica, etc.  Okay, sure.  Let's do it.

He took me into a room where two other guys were already all pinned up and lying/napping on tables.  They seemed peaceful.  Promising.  It seemed slightly like an opium den or something but I let that thought go.  He directed me to sit in a chair so that he could begin on my... scalp?  Okay... Next thing I knew he was sticking pins into my head.  "What you consider pain, I consider energy. Take deep breaths."  It still hurt.  8 pins later, I imagined myself looking like Hellraiser.  

I apologize if that grosses you out.  Also I promise it wasn't that bad.  Also to be clear, that's not me in the picture.

He said, "I am just going to stimulate things a bit now..." and proceeded to wiggle around all the pins in my head, two by two (because he has two hands, you see).  Thank you for that, Dr.  He put two more in my neck and I headed to the table.  

I laid on my back and he stuck a few pins here and there.  Tricep, forearm, elbow, the fleshy part in between thumb and index finger, and then onto my legs.  I should point out that I was wearing a UK sweatshirt (go Cats!) and jeans and he put the pins straight through my clothes.  That was interesting. So anyway, a couple on the outside of my knees, then on my shin muscle (I know that has a more scientific name), then a few around each ankle.  Ralph (my right leg) did not like this treatment one bit.  He proceeded to buck the good doctor away.  "Are you okay?" he said.  I responded, "Yes, I don't think my legs like this very much."  I kept spasming until he was done.  Louie was surprisingly calm for once.

As soon as he left, Louie started acting up.  The spasms hurt about 10x more than usual because of those stupid pins digging into the involuntarily flexing muscles.  I resisted the urge to call him back in to take those things out.  When my legs crossed each other (they tend to do that), the ankle pins went this way and that.  It didn't feel pleasant.  I reached down to fix it only to find that moving my arms caused the pins around my elbow to hurt pretty badly.  And oh, that's right there are still a bunch of pins in my head.   

At that point, about 10 minutes into the hour session, I tried to remember when something had hurt so much.  It is not my habit to whine about pain so please don't think to yourself, "Pfff... this guy!"  I decided to start counting the seconds in between spasms to figure out how many spasms I would have in the hour.  I averaged about 18 seconds.  So something like 180 spasms for the hour.  The median was definitely 17 seconds.  I ran out of things to compute.  Then I started thinking about the hilarity of the whole situation and how I should probably blog about it.  Half of this was already composed in my head while I was in there spasming around with pins poking out of me like an idiot (including this sentence).  

About 40 minutes in, I was amazed at how my body had gotten used to the pins and pain.  They say that humans have a remarkable ability to adapt to any environment or situation.  I even started dozing off, incredibly, in the ~18 second windows in between spasms.  Then instead of thinking about the pain I just vaguely acknowledged it and went about mentally composing my blog and thinking, "How did I get here?"  

I have my next appointment on Saturday.  I am not looking forward to it.  But I'm gonna give it another shot.  Stupid, you say?  Well if something has a 1% chance of helping me improve my condition,  I will probably give it a try.  If there was research that said getting punched in the face for an hour straight was linked to spinal cord recovery, then I would probably inform Rebecca that I had found a new way to resolve our conflicts.  Too dark? 

Wish me luck.  I hope everyone is doing well.  I miss everyone back in the states.  

Dear Lord, please give me patience, strength, wisdom, guidance, compassion, and laughter.  Let me live my life the way You would like me to live it.  Thank You for my countless blessings.  Keep me humble.  Give me perspective and remind me how easy I have it.  Thanks for everything.  Keep healing me.  Please fill everyone with Your Holy Spirit and guide us in all we do.  Let us not take life too seriously.  Help us to live and love like Children, as you intended.  In Your name, amen.

Until later...
Chip

PS - I am probably starting a real estate investment company at some point.  It will be in the US but possibly spread elsewhere.  If you have any advice about that, let me know.