Microwave blues

Darkness has descended upon Prague this evening. Earlier, while napping, I heard the peaceful pitter-patter of rain drops. When I'm chilled and tired, there's nothing quite like rain to make one feel justified in being lazy, getting into one's snug bed, and resting the eyes for 30 minutes, an hour, or even two hours in extreme cases.

Lately, I've had reason to take long naps... Friday morning I fumbled taking something out of the microwave which spilled on some of my fingers, resulting in 2nd degree burns. This was 7:15 am approximately. From 7:30-10:30 I alternated standing in the kitchen with my hands submerged in a pyrex dish with lying carefully on the couch with my hands submerged in a pyrex dish. Once the burning sensation stopped, my friend Aska accompanied me to the hospital burn section.

As a foreigner, one constantly learns new things. Little did I know that the hospital across the street from my work was actually a massive complex of old, old, buildings. Although communism fell nearly 20 years ago, there is plenty left behind to remind one of the not entirely distant pass. Fortunately, my wait was minimal. I can only imagine what I would have sat through in the emergency room back home in Binghamton or DC for that matter. Once in the doctor's door, it took less than a minute before the nurse guided me to a seat where she gently approached my wounds with what I will call "magic tape" followed by gauze. Once wrapped, I breathed a sigh of relief: My ultra tender skin was no longer exposed and the pain seemed less.

Hopefully, I'm on the road to recovery. Tomorrow I go back to have my dressings changed, and repeat this process every 2 days. I'm so glad I had a friend around for this emergency and that she will be around for the next 2 months as she continues her job search. (Mom, no worries, I'm in good hands!)

Life's Simple Pleasures

Okay, I'm not that old in the grand scheme of things, but I definitely don't have the energy I once had as a 21-year old. (Sigh) Those were the days of seeming invincibility. Not anymore, that is for sure. One lesson I continue to learn is how to read my body. As well, I'm still learning when to say yes, and when to say no.

This past weekend struck the right chord: a Saturday morning trip to the gym followed by brunch with a friend at Cafe Savoy, an art nouveau Parisienne cafe across the river. There's much joy to be had in life's simple pleasures.


Yes, my friend Liz, recently back from the Pacific Northwest, and I feasted as we caught up over the last 3-4 weeks. Good food and good conversation go hand in hand :)

After parting ways, I decided to cross the river by foot before catching the no. 22 tram home. Looking out on the Vltava and the many paddle boats afloat, I was reminded of what a beautiful city I am blessed to call home.

Through the Fog

It's hard to believe today marks 8 years since that horrific day in September 2001.

I lived in Hoboken NJ, December 1999 through August 2002, working in downtown Manhattan in the Financial District, a mere couple of blocks from the Twin Towers. From my cubicle space I could see the Statue of Liberty, including approaching storms, a truly fantastic sight. The conference room right beside me peered out on the World Trade Center. It was one of the most enviable views.

Everyday I took the NJ Path train from Hoboken to the World Trade Center, as I did that day. My train's doors ushered me out and onto the underground platform just as the first plane crashed. Little did I know, once above ground and standing on the street, gaping at the burning hole of the North Tower, that my world and our world had drastically changed. There is no turning back.

But amidst the pain, something amazing occurred in New York and across the Hudson in Jersey that autumn: people of all shapes and sizes and colors and accents pulled together. There was an awesome sense of community. We consciously lived and breathed each moment, cherishing it, our families and friends.

Unfortunately, the fog of life settles back too quickly. We get caught up in traffic jams, unclean dishes, long lines at the grocery store, and doctors' offices with punishing waits. We work long hours, and cut short time with our kids and loved ones. Simply put, we forget the most painful of lessons - life is fragile, it is a precious gift from our Creator. At least I for one am guilty.

Today I think back on that crisp blue sky, and I pray for eyes to see clearly through the fog.