Ana and Isa’s blog

Dear Friends,
I am in awe of you who continue to read this blog and find interest in our lives. I am happy to say we are active and healthy with each passing day, so active we haven’t had time to blog! This is a full month with three weddings in three weekends, two of them out of town in New York and Los Angeles. It is wonderful to witness these commitments among our dear friends. Like most weddings, they are also an opportunity to reunite with our cliques of friends, share memories, laughter and great dancing. Other than weekend weddings, I spend my days exercising, socializing and mostly fervently cutting my manuscript for the Japanese translation. It is very difficult to change our book into something totally different– it is a ‘tell’ story now rather than a ’show’ story.

On Friday we are driving to Los Angeles for the last wedding on Saturday, and then on Sunday, Ana and I have our first and only Book Fair in West Hollywood! We are excited and have created a colorful booth with interactive activities. It will be a blast. For more information, see www.westhollywoodbookfair.org. I can’t wait to see some of my friends.

Andrew is planning to go to Egypt on Monday, the start of his sabbatical. I made the decision not to travel with him because of fear of germs, diarrhea and overdoing it. I am proud that I have limits… finally! It is not worth the risk. I am proud he is going with his father instead and fulfilling his dream on his own. We may be married, but we are separate people with separate wishes that don’t always need to include each other. He is also most likely doing a Habitat for Humanity project in December in Cameroon, Africa. That is a place where evolution began and I don’t intend to be it’s Darwinian experiment, so I refrained from even considering it! I am envious but glad Andrew will see this part of the world. I believe Africa has great potential to teach Andrew truth about human life and circumstance, and may deeply influence him personally and professionally. My true hope is Andrew will ‘find himself’ in Africa.

I am long overdue in sharing my Yosemite stories. I can’t believe September is almost over. I am glad the days are not as hot and I’ve been bike-riding around without heat stroke. The days are definitely shorter and there’s a chill in the nighttime air. I fear the fall because of sickness and germs that have jinxed nearly every Halloween of my past. I hope this will be a healthy autumn for me, Ana and all the people I care about.

I will return to my notes about my Yosemite entry, which I started and never posted. Thanks for your patience:
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On Friday, September 5, Ana and I were blessed to be invited to a book club in Cupertino by our dear friends Ed and Kay. Ed has volunteered at our local hospital for 20-plus years specifically with the CF ‘kids’. He has raised many of us and is our dearest friend. He introduced us, rather emotionally, to the group of 20 or so, who were part of his wife Kay’s book club. How blessed we felt to have an audience that cared to hear from us! As usual we shared a 20 minute talk about what our book is about and why we wrote it, and how, and then opened the group up to questions. Several local librarians attended and we appreciated the opportunity to educate others about CF and transplant. The question that always comes up is, “Will your new lungs get CF?”… and we patiently explain, “no, our new lungs have different genes and will never get CF.” We met Kay and Ed’s great friends and new drop-ins, too, including two Japanese women who saw us in the local paper and just wanted to drop by. They had met at Manzanar Internment camp as fourth graders, and I really wish I had the time to hear their fascinating although challenging story. Everyone can share so much of where they’ve been and how they’ve become who they are.

After the book club, Ana and I raced home, tore off our dresses, washed our faces of makeup and took off our earrings and donned our hiking boots and clothes. We met our good friend and lung recipient Tom, and Trent, who were playing video games. We packed the car and pushed the guys to get going. It was time for Yosemite!

In six hours, we arrived in darkness to Tuolumne Meadows campground at 8500 feet. My dad and our four friends had already arrived and found a campsite. Dad pitched a tent for Tom and me, and Ana and Trent stumbled in the darkness to pitch their tent. After putting food into the bear boxes, we went to sleep.

On Saturday, Sept. 6, we awoke early and prepared for our backpacking adventure. It was great to see Dad again after 5 days! Two years earlier, on Sept. 9-10, 2006, Ana, me, Andrew, Carla, Jen and several others climbed Yosemite’s Half Dome. Now, two years, later, one transplant later, and many, many adventures later, we were back for more action, this time with several new friends, including Tom. Jen brought her dad Alec, and Carla brought her friend Candice, both of whom are Jazzercise teachers. Unfortunately, Andrew had to work.

By 10:30am, all of us arrived at the trailhead and were ready to hike. Alec and Jen hiked slowly, since Alec is almost 78! This is his first time backpacking and I applauded his efforts! (See, it’s NEVER too late to learn!!) Ana also struggled with the altitude and weight on her back. I went ahead with Carla, Candice, my dad and Tom. The first part of the hike was 2.5 miles uphill, and it was tough! I was a warm day (96 degrees in the valley) but it was perfect at this altitude. The sky was blue, with no rain predicted, a classic Californian September! We hiked through pine forests, along a meadow and up rocky rough terrain. There was much more grey granite than in the Rocky Mountains. Yosemite is just breathtaking and I wish everyone can see it with their own eyes. The vastness of the rocks and endless nooks and crannies of the massive granite bumps and holes is just amazing. We got to the crossroads at the top of the steep hill after a mile and a half of brutal switchbacks. We hung our packs and rested while waiting for Ana and Trent to catch up. Dad went back down to pick up Ana’s pack. She said it was so symbolic of how our parents are always saving us from struggle. How lucky we are to have my 68 year old dad still stronger than us!

After some rest, the seven of us continued to hike 4.7 miles to beautiful Clouds’ Rest. The wonderful conversation distracted me my misery hiking uphill and with breathlessness. I love Carla’s cheerful attitude and our conversations just wandered everywhere. After about 2 hours we hiked on a steep granite ridge. On both sides were vast deep drops of pure granite on all sides. The ridge was a good 40-50 feet wide so we felt safe, but if the wind was any stronger I’d have been scared! Dad decided Ana should ascent first so we all patiently waited for her to lead the way. There is no way to adequately describe the view. In 360 degrees, all we could see was endless glorious rock walls and cliffs, as far as the eyes could see. Some rocks were speckled with dark green clumps of forest, but most of it was above timberline. I can’t believe trees grow out of rock! With nature, anything is possible…

My dad has climbed 247 peaks in the Sierras and like the back of his hand he knew each distant range and peak by name. We were in good hands with Reiner! Even funnier was that on the way to the summit, a large group walked by us and a few people said, “Hello, Reiner!” These were people from the Sierra Club, and they knew my dad by face! My dad is remarkable in the outdoor world.

We sat breathless on the top of Clouds’ Rest for an hour, eating snacks and just absorbing the bright sun and views. You know you’re in a Californian National Park when you can call on your cell phone from a peak to tell your loved ones where you are. But describing the view was impossible. I wish I could’ve clicked my fingers and my loved ones, including you, could just be there with me. Down BELOW us we could see Half Dome, which looked so small because Cloud’s Rest was 9926 feet high! I praised God for letting me AND Ana, AND Tom all be well enough to breathe at this altitude and get here! Two years ago, Ana and me climbed Half Dome before her rejection started. One year ago we never dreamed she could hike again and be at this altitude. God is good. Life is amazing. How blessed we are.

The afternoon sun called us down and we sadly had to leave this Heavenly perch to set up camp before dark. The long hike down was tricky with the steepness but again the views made us pause, gasp, and just revel at nature’s canvas. After another 3 hours or so, we met Jen and Alec who made the tough hike to set up camp at Sunrise Lake. We pitched tents, boiled water and enjoyed our meals among laughter and sharing, just in time for darkness. Most of us had freezedried food. After a good hike, the first few bites are the best taste you’ve ever had, and the last few bites are the worst taste you’ve ever had. That sums it up.

I slept poorly. Tom said I snored. I said he snored. Neither of us slept well. That’s what sharing a tent with another CFers is like. I woke often to pee and so did others so it was hard to find privacy:). Luckily my legs weren’t too tired. On Sunday morning, our church involved sitting by the lake and watching the sun reach higher in the sky. The shimmer of the lake was unreal. Gazing at clarity of the sky and the mountains, opened up an inner clarity. I wondered about life, why we are here, who we really are, what the purpose of such beauty is, and what God wants us to do with it. To me, being in nature offers as much deep spiritual reflection as any institutional commitment or biblical studies.

Or maybe that’s what fishing itself does. For about an hour, I fished with my dad. I haven’t fished in 2 or more decades. Ever since my transplant, I’ve wanted to fish; I’ve felt compelled to fish. Actually, my donor mom said my donor liked to fish… and I finally had the chance with dad’s supplies. I learned how much skill it took to cast a rod! Unfortunately, we didn’t catch any fish. I put on my crocs and waded in the water until and sunk in the mud, and ate my instant breakfast amidst more laughter of friends. We lazily packed up camp. Trent was a great sport and carried a 50 pound pack of tons of extra food. Everyone was trying to pawn off their food and eat as much as possible to lighten their loads!

We bid farewell to Jen and Alec, who would hike back down at their own pace, and then the 7 of us head down. It took us only 2 hours. It was another fabulous adventure and we all dreamed about the next destination– always second weekend in September, if you are interested! We said goodbye to Carla, Candice and our dad, while Ana, Trent, Tom and I drive up to Tuolomne Visitor Center to get our national park passport stamped- a must! We took photos at the meadows and then went to Tenaya Lake for a picnic. Ana made tuna sandwiches and I waded again to cool off. It was crowded; there is something about a mountain lake that attracts people- especially one right by the road. After an hour, we head home back to the Bay Area. Amazingly, my legs were not tired.

Our hiking adventures don’t seem real. They seem figments of my imagination, like when I was sick I would close my eyes and just imagine sitting on a mountain peak or wading through an alpine lake. And now this is my reality. I am like Descartes, who didn’t know what is reality- one’s dreams or one’s awakeness. Because this all seems just too good to be true.

I sign off for now thinking of all of you and wishing everyone has the chance to do something or be somewhere they dream of. If you are unable, may your dreams be more creative, more humble, or may your dreams take you to those places in your mind.

Take care,
Isa

Today is my lung donor Xavier’s 23rd birthday and I am thinking of him and his family. So it is appropriate to write about my latest high altitude hiking adventures to pay tribute to his life that was passed on to me. Everything I can do now is because of him.

I won’t be able to do justice in describing my hiking adventures with my dad, because I am getting ready to fly to New York City for a friend’s wedding. I realize my pace of life cannot continue as I feel drained but by chance have 3 weddings this month!

I picked up my dad at the Denver airport and happily we drove 2 1/2 hours north to Estes Park, just outside Rocky Mountain National Park. It has been a dream all my life to be able to see the majestic Rockies- and climb them. This is the gift of transplantation that keeps on giving- that I am able to realize so many of my childhood fantasies! Added to this moment was the one-on-one time (the first in my life) with my father for some true bonding. There is a German saying, “Der apfel nich falen falt von der die stumpf” or something life that– the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and it is because of my dad that the mountains beckon me to a degree of obsession. There is nothing I’d rather be doing than hiking… and hiking with my dad. Dad was sad Ana couldn’t join us because of her job, but I secretly delighted in my selfish time.

We stopped briefly at a sporting goods store that had elk and deer heads on the walls and lots of gun racks. They didn’t even sell a small amount of propane for Dad’s stove… I have a certain name for those types of outdoorsmen but I will refrain! In the store the white men glared at me and my Obama t-shirt and I felt extremely out of place. We were in northern Colorado, just 50 miles from Wyoming! What a different world.

Dad and I arrived early enough to check into the hotel and rush to the Visitor Center to pick up our backcountry permit for our two nights in the wilderness. We were able to secure better backcountry sites than I had over the mail due to cancellations, and our hiking route would be more favorable. With Labor Day weekend, we were lucky to get anything. I left the permit office telling the ranger, “I wish I had your job.” Yes, it’s a fantasy of mine… perhaps another reality some day made possible by the gift of healthy lungs?

We rushed up the famous Trail Ridge Road around 6:30, knowing we had about an hour and a half of sunlight to enjoy the views. Up and up our little Ford Focus went, passing signs for 9,000, 10,000, 11,000 and finally 12,000 feet! There were high clouds in the distance which promised a glorious sunset. We passed deep forests and distant grey-brown treeless ridges with snowfields and even more distant glaciers sliding subtly down the rock. We saw vast flat meadows of brown dried grass which would’ve been gorgeous in the spring. On the high alpine country we came across even flatter and vaster meadows of tundra, and were greeted by large heards of elk. Dad got out of the car, and in classic fashion, tested himself and the animals to see how close he could get with his camera. The sun shone brightly but the winds howled. We finally made it to the Alpine Visitor Center and took a short walk up the trail to the vista point. After a week in mile-high Denver, I was already acclimated to the high altitude, but definitely panted and went slowly up the hill, near 12,000 ft. I couldn’t believe I could be here. And that my 68 year old father was well enough to be here too.

We admired the distant and towering mountains in 360 degree views, and watched the sunset together. As usual my dad tried to take a picture of the moment the sun disappeared behind the horizon, to capture the phenomenon called the “green flash”… to no avail. It was challenge to take pictures among a viscous Rocky Mountain wind. Luckily I had my down jacket on but my dad suffered! The broad sky turned shades of yellow, red, and purple and I had decided that my eyes have seen the promised land. What gives me the right to see such glorious beauty?

We raced down the road back to town in the dusk and then darkness, and stopped at the first restaurant we could find. We gorged out on a massive meal of meatballs and pasta because the next two nights would be slim pickings. We went back to our Comfort Inn, called our loved ones and went to sleep. I was exhausted from the long week at the Convention and the long day in Boulder.

The following morning we relaxed and had a leisurely morning packing and eating breakfast. Finally around 10am, we head out to the National Park. The brown signs make me so excited!

We parked the car at Cub Lake trailhead and took a shuttle to Bear Lake trailhead. Bear Lake is the most popular destination for Rocky Mountain National Park visitors, and it was covered with crowds. We stayed very briefly and hiked onward. From there on we hiked with our 35 pound packs up hill to 9450 feet (from about 8800). It was very, very hard! I struggled for the first 20 minutes and wondered why I was doing this- why I called this fun! Then something clicked in my body and the wiring just worked. After mile 4 I could’ve kept going… I guess that’s my slow twitch muscles. Nonetheless, we passed amazing views that mere letters strung together in words could never do justice to describe. After about 2 hours we stopped for lunch at Lake Helene, a beautiful alpine lake overlooking a rocky treeless peak with a snowfield. The lake was shallow and surrounded by trees. I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Except for the tuna packet and trail mix which was my unappetizing lunch. I excused myself to the bushes which turned out to be bright green meadows covered with wildflowers, and it was a shame to pollute such a scene with my urine!

We hiked onward and climbed up and then down the side of a mountain, overlooking a fabulously rough creek surrounded by steep cliffs of rocky crags. We came to a small meadow and dad found a huge mushroom, about 10 inches in diameter. He got all excited and picked the darn thing. I reprimanded him because we were in a national park, but he insisted it was legal if one eats what one picks. He hid his find, nonetheless, in a plastic bag, rapidly, as other hikers approached, and drooled as he explained how he’d sauté it for dinner.

We passed Noptotch Mountain and distant glaciers. The air was so crisp and I breathed easily going downhill. We came to Lake Odessa, one of the most beautiful alpine lakes I’d ever seen. People were fishing and dad was excited to try, but his

I didn’t want this hike to end but soon enough we arrived at Fern Lake, nearly 5 miles from our starting point. We explored the area and set up camp. We pumped water and I added sodium chlorite tablets just for extra precaution! Then we went to the lake and just hung out. The water was ice cold on my feet so I simply walked to a small rock and sat in the lake, letting the sun shine on me and basking in ecstasy. By 6pm we returned to camp, and boiled water for lovely freeze-dried food. Dad cut up his mushroom and fried it with onions and butter (which he had brought for fishing). Not all of it fit into the pan. I did not dare eat any, because I dislike mushrooms anyway. A neighboring backpacker came by to borrow food, and Dad offered him some mushroom (there was a very large quantity) but he denied as well. Smart man.

After dinner we put all our food and medical items into the bear box in preparation for bed. Soon darkness fell and I was tired, so dad and I curled up together in his tight sleeping bag. I had never slept so closely to my dad but this was true bonding. Despite my usual frequent trips to the bathroom, I slept well.

The next morning, Sunday, we got up and boiled water for oatmeal packets. We packed up camp and carried the packs for another 3.4 miles to Cub Lake campsite, where we had another reservation. This time we hiked mostly downhill with less spectacular views but beautiful scenery nonetheless. The fields were dry but occasionally we found remnant patches of wildflowers. We passed Fern Falls, a loud and gorgeous waterfall, and soon came to an area called “The Pools” with Fern Creek making pools of water among large boulders. There were many, many day hikers because we were so close to the trailhead… and wondered why we were carrying such big packs! We made our way to Cub Lake, but the local creek was dry, so we had to get water from the rather stale lake. Cub Lake was shallow and surrounded by grassing meadows. There were water lilies growing all over the lake, and I am sure when they are in bloom it is extraordinary. This phenomenon seems rather common- that lakes are turning into meadows and the climate becomes warmer and snowfields/glaciers are shrinking, so there is less water runoff into lakes. Sad and scary.

We set up camp again, hid our food, and ate a quick lunch of trail mix, tuna, pumperknickel (very Stenzel) and sausage. Then we packed up our water supplies and snacks and hiked for another 2 miles to Mills Creek. It was a brutal 1.7 mile hike straight uphill and I panted and struggled until sweat blinded my eyes. The wind was picking up and clouds covered the sky, so we knew rain was coming. We passed many many dead trees, killed by an infestation of bark beetle, a result of lack of natural forest fires in the national parks (we saw the same in the Great Smoky Mountains). After we reached the peak, we were rewarded with the view of Cub Lake down below, and surrounded ranges and peaks in the distance. Then we hiked back downhill toward Mill Creek. We passed another gorgeous meadow sprinkled with aspen. The leaves were still fresh green and danced with the breeze. I felt like running through the meadow but dad said mountain etiquette is to allow meadows to remain undisturbed. It was just another taste of heaven and I wish you were there.

We admired Mill Creek and pumped water, but our water filter didn’t work well so we gave up after a while. I used my tablets and dad just filled his bottles with the creek water. It started to sprinkle, and though it was early, it was time to head back before heavy rain. I still wanted to go on but it is always harder for my body to stop and rest than just to keep going. We made it back to the campsite by 6pm in plenty of time to make dinner. We simply scooped up the lake water in the pots and boiled them– I insisted on 10 minutes to make sure every bug was killed. I am so paranoid of germs around people but with nature, I feel more relaxed to take necessary precautions but otherwise just deal. I reluctantly enjoyed my “chicken enchilada” freeze dried food but more importantly enjoyed relaxed and warm conversation with my dad. We usually talked about politics or science or people, and it was all without effort or pretense. So natural, not forced, not deep or meaningful, but just talking together as it was meant to be. We slept again side by side, as the winds howled and roared all night long outside. We escaped heavy rain by the grace of God.

The next day we woke early and packed up camp rapidly. It was September 1st and you could feel fall in the air. The winds were still constant and the trees resisted every motion. We left around 8am and I was sad to leave the campsite. It was time to leave the trail. We hiked another 2.5 miles and again passed glorious scenery. More lakes at the end of their lives- surrounded by meadows and wildflowers, and ‘cattails’ from which little fluffs of feathers flew each time the wind blew. The sky was blue this morning with only high clouds, and the sun was so extraordinarily bright, as if every corner of every tree, leaf, rock needed to be exposed with light. We passed more aspen forests and lots of rose bushes- dad picked the rose buds to make tea at home. Toward the end of the trail we came across a vast meadow and dad climbed a boulder. We saw elk prints in the soil. I took photos but no pictures could do justice to the vastness of this scenery.

Our trail ended with a treat- a wide river that cut through this meadow, and we admired the rough waters before returning to the car around 9:30am. We changed, unloaded, grabbed snacks, and then got ready to drive across Trail Ridge Road one more time… we wanted one more Continental Divide experience. We reached the Alpine Visitor Center again by 11am, and I happily washed my face and refilled my water bottle with fresh clean water. It felt so great! I was breathless at 11,500 feet just drinking from my bottle.

We continued to drive to Milner’s Pass, and that is where they had a famous sign for the Continental Divide. I always wanted to visit this place since my hero Bob Flanagan used to sing a song “Have you ever seen the spring in the Great Divide?” We took photos, and I told dad he should take a piss so his water could fall on both sides of the continent. He was too proper to do this. We hiked up a steep trail for about 30 minutes. As usual, I huffed and puffed and wanted to go further. Being short of breath this way makes me feel stronger; it reminds me I can breathe hard and it’s okay; I’m not sick. So I love this feeling of using my lungs to their fullest ability. But, unfortunately, the airport was calling us and we quit our hike early. Dad and I drove out of the park, along Grand Lake and then onward through the last Rocky Mountain passes near Winter Park, then down to flattened Denver to the airport. I had a soggy wet burrito at the gas station– not quite the food reward I craved after two days in the mountains! We rushed to return the car, met Andrew who came from Renaissance Weekend in Aspen (an elite social networking gathering of high achievers). I bid farewell to my precious father after a rewarding and memorable adventure together. We would see each other in 5 days for more!

Andrew and I flew home together, exhausted. Over the next few days I went to CFRI conference meeting, rested, did chores, went to the dentist and prepared for my next backpack trip to Yosemite. My body was tired but my spirit was exceedingly fulfilled.

I will write more about our Yosemite trip later.
Thank you for your interest.
Bye for now.
Isa

Dear friends,
Thank you for checking our blog again. I humbly share my experiences with you, embarrassed that my life is almost too good compared to many of my friends who struggle with health, finances, family stress, jobs, etc. Forgive me if what I share makes you feel envy and resentment. I can empathize- it doesn’t seem fair.

I excited to report on my very hectic life in the last 3 weeks. I’ve been to Louisville, Denver, Estes Park, the Rocky Mountain National Park, home in Redwood City for 3 days, a Cupertino book club, and then to Yosemite National Park. Life has been full of contrasts. I’ve done mundane things like sit in a dentist’s chair, and I’ve taken a nap, and I’ve stood next to Mayor Antonio Villagorosa and Nancy Pelosi, and hugged Anna Eshoo. I sweat buckets on a hot Kentucky evening and had goosebumps after hearing Obama’s speech. I felt tremendous pride and great cynicism. I’ve been at nearly sea level to 12,200 feet on the Continental Divide to Cloud’s Rest, overlooking the entire Yosemite Valley at 9926 feet. I’ve been surrounded by 80,000 screaming Obama fans and I’ve stood on a ledge on the Rockies where no one else was around but my dad and a few tourists down below. Please, tell me, am I really alove, or have I died and gone to Heaven, or at least a deep mysterious psychological place where I think of dreams and then land right in the middle of them?

Two months from now will be the highest-energy election day in our recent history, so it is fitting to finally write about my experience at the Democratic National Convention. Thanks to my husband Andrew’s involvement, I was invited to join as a spectator and witness the amazing political process of our country. Though the crowds’ germs terrify me after last months’ hospital stay, I couldn’t pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be part of history. I arrived in Denver on August 24, after a tiring time in Louisville, on Andrew’s birthday. We both napped and then were called because Andrew’s connection was going to give him Barbara Boxer’s tickets to a concert at Red Rock amphitheater. We sat surrounded by towering red rocks and listened to Sheryl Crow, Sugarland and Dave Matthews as the sun set and stars appeared above the lights of flat distant Denver. It was such a gorgeous night. What a great way to celebrate Andrew’s retirement from the Young Democrats!

Each morning we attended a massive California Democratic Party breakfast and heard inspiring speeches from major mayors of our country, governors (Deval Patrick of Massachusetts, David patterson of New York, Ted Strickland of Ohio, Chet Colver of Iowa, and Joe Manchen of West Virginia), and powerful women (you go girls) like Barbara Boxer, Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Dolores Huerta, and the longest standing congresswomen in swing states.

Usually after breakfast Andrew and I would go to a workshop on issues that mattered. I wish we could have gone to all of them- the ones on solar power, energy, women’s issues, and Muslim issues I regret I missed. It is so nice to get out of my illness/healthcare needs and learn about something else! One workshop was a fascinating panel discussion hosted by www.ndn.org, about immigration. It brought up the real challenges, like how to keep families together, how to monitor businesses that hire illegals, how to have a clear and fair path to legal immigration and residency, how to keep borders safe within budgetary contraints. I had great respect for Zoe Lofgren, our local congresswomen, who is chair of the immigration subcommittee. Other panelists included Janet Murguia of the National Council of La Raza, Frank Sharry and I love to learn about the real problems and difficult solutions for issues that affect people whom I care about– from my Stanford classmates to my housekeeper and gardener. The statistics really moved me: for every 2 persons deported, there is 1 child left behind in America. The other statistics like the use of psychotropic drugs, dogs and home raids on illegals was extremely disturbing and un-American. These workshops are so much more meaningful than just politician’s words like “I will protect this country from illegal immigrants” and other rhetoric. They are lively debates about how to make laws that affect people’s lives.

In the afternoons, Andrew and I were eagerly waiting and then every day lucky enough to receive (via lottery) passes to enter Pepsi Stadium to watch the DNC speeches, even if we got nose bleed seats. It was very exciting to be surrounded by thousands of passionate people screaming and carrying signs, and really CARING about America. Yes, I wore a mask and was very paranoid of germs! The beauty of this audience was that people came in all shapes and sizes, ages and colors and it made me proud to be part of diverse America. There were union workers, teachers, nurses, police/firefighters, pro-choicers, environmentalists, bloggers, businessmen, journalists, people in wheelchairs, with guidedogs, gay/lesbians, many, many women, native Americas, so, so, so many African Americans and Latinos, the whole gamut of mainstream American society. This was the party I was proud to be part of.

On Monday, the first day we got there early, around 4pm and sat and waited and waited until Michelle Obama’s speech around 8pm. We heard many inspiring speeches of “little” leaders, one after another. Some of them sounded very similar. If I heard “John McCain is more of the same” one more time I’d puke! But most people said common sense, fair words dedicating to helping as many average Americans as possible. The messages shared really made me feel like this is what a democracy is all about. Even several ordinary citizens spoke and shared their horror stories about job loss, loss of health insurance, etc. which were compelling and real. With just a brief break to scarf down gut-clogging fast food in the halls, we waited and waited for the main speeches.

I loved Michelle’s speech- it was emotional, down to earth, a nice introduction to her personal story and Obama’s, and a refreshing new voice. I finally sighed with relief that it wasn’t Hillary as the nominee because it was nice to have a change!

Anyway it was always an ordeal to leave the Convention and get back to the hotel, so the nights were late and tiring. There were parties we skipped because we were too tired.

On Tuesday, I relaxed in the hotel room after breakfast and then we had a lunch for Barbara Boxer and Al Franken spoke, the comedian who is running for Senate in Minnesota. The scallops and steak were to die for (for me, it’s all about the (free) food!) Then we went to the Convention in the afternoon. I felt very lucky to get passes! We got to the stadium late after rushing to catch trains and shuttles. It felt great to RUN through the streets of mile high Denver but it did not feel great to get blisters almost immediately. Damn feminine shoes! At the Pepsi Center it was nearly impossible to find a seat. I enjoyed hearing the little people speak, like a retired Republican naval officer John Hutson, an Obama supporter, who said, “the Grand Old Party is no longer grand, it’s just old.” Hillary Clinton spoke that evening and received a loud and outrageous cheer. I looked down from high above and saw a mass of little ants holding up signs, waving and sharing a passionate energy of love and support. It was a beautiful sight! I often thought, “Why am I here? What gives me the right to be here?” It was surreal. I enjoyed Hillary’s speech and admire her strength and determination greatly. I don’t actually remember anything memorable said… I do think she’d make a great national leader. But it is ok she has other roles and purposes besides being president.

On Wednesday after breakfast Andrew and I went to a great workshop on health care, an issue very near and dear to my heart. In my personal experience things have worked very well for my insurance; but it has tied my dad and then husband down to their jobs. But I know many CFers and transplantees who have struggled tremendously with insurance costs and coverage… from friends who have to have their own fundraisers to pay for the meds to those who went uninsured for 6 months and went from moderate lung disease to needing a transplant. I know someone whose family had to sell their home to pay for medical bills. We CF/transplant communities have compelling stories that need to be shared with our lawmakers! I even sat next to a guy with a green Donate Life bracelet, and upon my questionning, he was indeed a heart recipient! The speeches were extremely well done, focusing on key issues like reforming access, cost and quality of our health care. They talked about the importance of prevention and primary care over emergency room care, and how electronic medical records and standardization of care would save lots of money. They addressed how complex our system is, and how hard reform will be. the best line was from Hillary Clinton: “Its easy to make speeches about health care reform, it is very very difficult to transfer those ideas to legislation… we need to be patient, we need to accept that the first steps won’t be the perfect plans but we need to start somewhere.” They showed a video of Obama visiting the home of an in-home support worker for a disabled man, and how Obama did dishes and mopped the floor for this man. It was touching but clearly a political pull. I loved Pennsylvania Governor Rendell’s speech which showed their state program charges a percentage of each person’s salary (so rich contribute more), and that people can earn back money if they follow health promoting behaviors like quit smoking or keep a healthy weight. That’s a great idea to promote personal responsibility for healthcare- a right AND a privilege. He shared how to reduce waste, like preventing hospital acquired infections.
People spoke of common sense needs like letting disabled people work without losing their health insurance– hear, hear!

In the evening John Kerry spoke (got loud cheers) and I don’t remember him being so eloquent in 2004. His great argument was how much McCain has changed his position from when he was just a senator to when he became the presidential candidate- and you can’t trust that. Tom Dashcle spoke about how much Afgani president Karzai said, “We want to be be like you, America” but no longer feels that way now after the last 6 years. Bill Clinton spoke (I can’t remember the exact night) and received the most cheers of all. I was a bit distracted because people in front and around us were fighting for seats (they gave out more passes than there were seats; finally the police came to escort people out of the aisles). Anyway, Bill could hardly even say a word for a long time because of the cheering. As usual, he spoke as if he was telling a story and was so amazing. Again, I was awed that people absolutely worship this man almost as a spiritual figure. The power of one man! The movement of the masses! My favorite quotes were “Three times is not a charm” (refering to one more term of McCain who is just like Bush) and his line, “The USA should lead by the power of example, not by the example of its power.” Of course, he got the most cheers when he ended with the line, “There will always be a place called Hope.”

Finally, Joe Biden spoke and was very eloquent. Again it was all about his family and life story, which was very compelling. Each candidate has to have a good memoir before becoming a candidate! I loved learning about this new man, and new family, and admired how far he has come. My favorite line from Biden was “When you see abuse of power you’ve got to speak out.” I also loved how he said “A person is defined by his sense of honor, redeemed by his sense of loyalty.” He quoted his mother and said, “Everyone is equal, and God doesn’t give us crosses we can’t bear.”

On Wednesday night, as exhausted as we were, Andrew and I dragged ourselves to a late night party and enjoyed some great food. I bumped into my Stanford freshman dorm friend Felicia and that was a pleasant surprise. My feet were killing me standing so I begged Andrew to leave. I collapsed in bed at night.

I woke late on Thursday, skipping the breakfast and instead taking a cab to the outskirts of Denver to visit my transplant games friends James, Christian and Lacey, who was visiting from CA. I just missed my other CF transplant friends Missy and Will. We had a humongous breakfast and chatted about sports, politics and life. How great to know people all over! Then I cabbed back and met my friend Olin from Santa Fe, NM, who entered the lottery for a ticket to see Obama on Thursday night and won a ticket. We picked up Andrew and drove to a parking lot, then maneuvered our way to public transportation to wait in line for 2 hours in the sun to enter the famous Invesco Mile High Stadium. We ate takeout lunch in line. It was quite a challenge! But what a wonderful way to catch up and chat and chat, despite the painful feet. The security was tough but necessary and when we finally entered the towering stadium walls, our hearts beat faster with eager anticipation. We parted from Olin and sat in our horrible seats behind the stage in the bright sun. Beggars can’t be choosers! It was 2pm and we had 6 hours to wait. After 2 hours I felt heat stroke coming on so I got up to get some shade. I regret I missed John Lewis’ speech, Bill Richardson’s and several other key players. Again the energy was tremendous. I just felt like the heat was going to make me pass out. Darn body! But it was doing a pretty fine job keeping up this pace and for that I was thankful! Again, as I dodged the crowd through the halls the diversity of ages and people in the stadium excited me tremendously. I felt like I was at a rock concert because EVERYONE was wearing Obama clothes and pins. He truly is a celebrity and it is scary how much idolization happens in politics. But to have so many people moved by one man was inspiring and wonderful- to see the antithesis of apathy! This is a true change.

After more and more speeches Obama finally came on. He was fabulous, even if we could only see his backside in person and had to watch the high screens. He spoke so fairly about so many issues. He didn’t seem mean and attacking at all (did you watch the RNC?? Okay, I’m biased). My favorite lines were how he said how the other party believes you are on your own if bad times come and you must pull yourself up by your bootstraps — if you have boots. I believe people with illnesses like CF for the most part just have bad luck and sometimes you need outside help to survive- even if it means governmental help. Anyway, he also spoke of personal responsibility and I also agree that’s important for some social problems. He spoke realistically about how he can’t change the entire country on his own- it will take you and me and our friends and communities to change. He can’t save us. We can’t put unreasonable expectations on any of our candidates. Obama stated it’s not about him, it’s about us. I love that mobilization of people’s energy. Alot of his speech and all the speeches were the implication that Obama, Michelle, Joe- are all the commoners who have middle class backgrounds and through the American Dream have risen to the place they are now, thanks to good education and supportive communities. I can relate to that and say the same about my life. I think that’s their appeal.
Anyway, Obama’s speech ended with fireworks, confetti and screaming cheering crowds for at least 20 minutes. The best part was seeing the whole Obama family walk on stage and think, wow, our first family could be African American! What a profound shift in America- finally. Finally, color doesn’t and shouldn’t matter. No wonder Olin said near him African Americans were crying. This is the true belief that our people can and should be judged by the character and qualities not by race. Finally, every American can climb the ladder, can have a chance. If Obama can be elected, so can a woman-even if Hillary wasn’t-, so can someone disabled, someone gay, someone pregnant, someone with illness, someone just different. I felt like anything is possible. America was finally growing up and coming to her senses.
I left fully alive, politically motivated and completely exhausted. My feet hurt. But I felt almost an out-of-body experience. What allowed me to have the chance to see this historic moment? How grateful I was to be married to someone who inspired me and offered this opportunity to be part of something like this! Was this one reason I didn’t die back in 2004? Life is going on and I’m part of it. Wow. I felt all of my inner spiritual, emotional and personal values were being uplifted and validated by the DNC message: that love of our neighbors is more important than anything, that helping others and caring for those less fortunate is the job of every member of society, that some people have bad luck and need extra help, that all are welcome and all are equal, that fairness and common sense for the majority must be the underpinnings of all political decisions. I felt grateful to be part of something bigger than myself where my values could be transfered into action through political involvement. The people I saw at the DNC cared deeply about the state of individuals in this country. We were all in this together- facing our personal and public problems as one country.

On Friday morning, I woke early, still exhausted, and packed up to rent a car. I separated from Andrew, who was attending a prestigious Renaissance Weekend in Aspen. I drove to Boulder to meet my friend Olin and we hiked a little at the Flatirons, in beautiful Chautauqua Park. I called my brother early, because he went to CU Boulder and he recommended this hike. The hills were dry but it felt great to be in nature after my saturated exposures to people, people, people. It felt great to move my legs (once I covered my blisters with bandaids) and expand my lungs, hopefully clearing them of any bugs I inhaled during the DNC. Olin and I talked and talked, except when I panted going uphill. We were close to 6000 feet! It felt so great to share the past days’ energy with a close compatible friend. We enjoyed a fabulous lunch at the Chautauqua Dining Hall including the best blueberry pie I’ve ever tasted. I felt grateful to have a friend where we started off where we left off– you know those types? Too soon, I didn’t want to part but it was time to drive to the airport to pick up my dad. When you live far from a close friend, every moment together is precious and parting is so hard. But I was reminded that my community is people whom I love, whereever they live.

I will write more tomorrow about my adventures in the Rockies and Yosemite. This post is long enough! Hopefully I didn’t offend anyone with my words but I am sharing my views/values because this is my blog. Please share yours too– this is America! I’d be a hypocrite to say I’m a Democrat and not tolerate of any other partys’ views. So many of the political issues/views are so much more complicated than can be expressed in a little personal blog by the Stenzeltwins.

Anyway, I wish you a great week, with September rapidly passing us by. The days are dry and warm, with winds picking up to remind us of cooling. Enjoy the sun while you can! I wish you health and hopefully involvement in the next 2 months of our politically charged climate. May your patriotic spirit be moved!
Love and hugs,
Isa

It’s been a long time since I posted since my life is pulled in many directions since starting work in June. I appreciate all the faithful readers. This is a belated report of our previous  weekend’s adventures in Louisville, Kentucky. We flew out to Louisville , Kentucky, for a CF Family Education Day at the Children’s Hospital of Louisville on Aug 23. It was a late arrival in a wonderful LaQuinta Inn just outside the airport. The parking lot was filled with state trooper cars and I became suspicious. But on the marque above the hotel sign, it read “Welcome State Troopers: Kentucky State Fair 2008.” What would be more of a cultural experience that attending the KY State Fair?

We had ambitions to go to the fair early in the morning, but thanks to jet lag and a fabulous tempurpedic bed, we awoke late to head to Lynn’s Paradise Cafe to meet our friend with CF, Lisa, who came to California’s CFRI Teen and Adult Retreat in 2001 and 2004.  She was called “Kentucky Lisa” so as not to be confused with our local Bay Area famous Lisa.  It was a rare and meaningful reunion. Lisa is in her 40’s , working fulltime and balancing her own health challenges and home needs. She is truly amazing. We ate in an eclectic cafe adorned with colorful fake flower bouquets and games and toys on the table (including plastic horses of course). Isa and I had our share of gluttony with the Kentucky Grand Slam breakfast- omelet adorned with fried onions, fried green tomatoes, honey biscuits and sorghum. Whew! A CFers dream… or nightmare.

By 1pm, we headed to Slugger Field, Louiseville’s minor league baseball stadium. It was across the street from the Ohio River and Waterfront park where people were amazingly playing in the playground and even jogging/biking in 100 degree weather. Our CF Education Day talk was in the lobby of the stadium, tucked away in a small alcove reserved for private parties. There were about 60 attendees, mostly families with kids with CF. We spoke without a slide show using handouts instead. Our talk touched upon things like family coping, importance of community, compliance, dealing with dating, jobs, college and working while having CF, and of course transplant.  Despite the heat of the building and poor acoustics, our talk was well received (even though there were a few blank stares) and we even hit it off with some of the adorable CF kids. Many drove far distances, with one family stating that they never met anyone else with CF; they live in a town 40 miles from Louiseville that doesn’t even have a supermarket. This was a different world. The social worker said the main challenges to CF clinic staff in caring for these patients was smoking parents and a lower education level. Kentucky has some of the highest smoking and obesity rates in the country and some of the lowest college graduate rates. After our talk, we joined many of the families for a minor league baseball game at 6pm. It was 94 degrees and incredibly humid in the bright sun at that hour. I was proving to the world that I had CF, excreting records amounts of sodium, so much so that my sunblock wouldn’t even smear on. We were generously treated for dinner, and had our choice of chili cheese fries, pizza, burgers, pepperoni stuffed soft pretzels, ice cream, Polish sausages and Philly cheese steak sandwiches (did I mention that KY has some of the highest obesity rates in the nation??) . For those with CF, can someone say “pass the enzymes?”

It was wonderful to be amongst kids with CF again; it reminded me of the old days at CF camp. But one kid who was so affectionate, came up and hugged me. My instant reaction was terror , fear of his germs, and cross infection. What a pity … we are so indoctrinated to stay away from each other now that a simple hug has become a source of fear and dread. I remember the days of piggy backing and how carefree we were. 

After an hour or so, I was as salty as the pretzel I just ate and dizzy with overheating, so we departed the ball game to attend the Kentucky State Fair that we missed in the morning. We headed to the air conditioned convention center , where the woman who sold us tickets was toothless but I’m trying not to stereotype here and will say no more. The faire’s program boasted events like the Ugly Lamp contest, the Miss Kentucky County Fair Pageant, the cheer competition, the Rooster Crowing contest, and the Quilt award presentation.  As we entered an Elvis impersonator surrounded by teen girls dressed like they were from the 50’s walked by quickly.  To the right was a stage where a country line dancing group was showing their moves. A real hoe down. We had only a few hours so we raced through as much as we could see, Stenzel style. My goal: to see Kentucky thoroughbred horses- the most famous part of the KY.
We walked through the Expo section where booths sell stuff- lots of stuff- mostly made in China, but some innovative and home grown stuff too. We bought some homegrown organic Kentucky jams and hushpuppie mix, and homemade fudge. We passed booths displaying hunting gear, John Deere goods, the US Marines (some buff guys were demonstrating pullups on a bar), and of course, a McCain booth. One booth boasted all Confederate flag paraphenilia. I was relieved to see a booth on “going green” and the Kentucky Organ Donation booth. Some of the folks at the organ donation booth recognized us and said, “Didn’t y’all go to the (transplant) Games?” We exchanged friendly greetings, as so many member of this unique “family” do. We had to laugh when one asked, “Are y’all from Team Hawaii?” because this was asked frequently to us and our Asian American Team NorCal manager Cathy Olmo while at the Games. Apparently much of the USA thinks that if you’re Asian, you must be from Hawaii.

In this crowd, there was black and white, and very little in between so we were definitely stared at. I was expecting someone to ask  if I spoke English.

We made our way through the arts and crafts section where we admired incredible home-made quilts, clothing, artwork, floral arrangements, photography, oil paintings, and plantwork. We drooled as we examined the cake, cookie and pie section where homemade baked goods were taste-tested earlier in the day and now on display. Some of the cakes looked like they were right out of the Food Channel’s cake show. Very professional!!

Outside, we passed the stables where the thoroughbred horses were kept. It was dark and we could barely see the shadows of the horses in the dim overhead bulbs. We could smell their hay (our masks went on) and hear their hooves knocking on the bars. The stables were beautiful, with elegantly dressed jockeys and horsemen/women sitting below fans and award ribbons sipping champagne and watching the horse competition occuring in the other arena, on live video. Some horses were being tended by caretakers; some looked nervous, bored, or eager to greet passersby. What a life to be a competitive horse. In this world I could see glimpses of the sport’s history, reminding me of the Belle Meade Plantation in Nashville, where we visited in May. Belle Meade was not an agricultural plantation, it was a horse breeding plantation, where wealthy white southerners sold horses for competition while their slaves tended to them. Even today, with a glimpse of the stables and the people there, and the homogeneity of owners, I thought that this equestrian world was still a world of affluence and Southern tradition.

Finally we came upon the greatest event of the evening: The World Championships Horse Show. Tickets were expensive so we just poked our heads in to see a stadium filled with equestrian elegance and a whole new world of sport. We saw horses trotting in line, pulling carriages, racing in circles, and even miniature horses being judged on looks and behavior. Many of the attendees were dressed in their finest evening gowns to attend this horse show. Competitors were from all over the country, but mostly from the South.  The trophies were enormous, almost as shiny as the groomed coats of the stallions themselves. It was very impressive. The size, poise, and agility of the horses were awe inspiring. So is equestrian sport all about making an animal do what you want? When 10 horses are prancing around an arena, it was hard to distinguish the different skills of each horse. But then one would win and the crowd would cheer madly. There must be a secret to differentiating a good horse from a not-so-good one. Either that or I’m clueless.

After a while, we headed to see the farm animals, hoping to get up close and personal to more horses. But we ended up seeing rooms of swine, sheep and cows, side by side in 10×10 pens. These were some of the finest breeds in the state. The wool of the sheep was white and billowy perfect (I felt sorry for them in the heat) , and I’ve never seen such big testicles on a pig in my life. The cows just gave us sheepish looks and a big “moooooo.” There were cots with sleeping bags pulled right up against the animal’s pens, so that the owners apparently slept next to their animals for the entire two weeks of the faire. Ah…. the joys of a good immune system.  Did you know Texas is the biggest wool producing state in the country, and leading behind it is Indiana?

Finally, it was getting late (our flight left at 6 am the next morning) so we decided to get our true State Fair experience and head for the carnival outside. It was crowded with teenagers wearing as little as possible in the late summer heat and stressed out parents pushing cranky toddlers in strollers. Despite the cigarette smoke pervading the air, we admired the ambiance- brightly colored lights coming from the ferris wheel, the buzz of the crowd’s laughter and distant screams from thrilled riders, fun houses, live music,  booths of “throw the ball here” or “shoot the rifle here” in exchange for the much desired made-in-china stuffed animal. It’s just nice to see people having a good time. 

We finally found a ride that would prove to the world that we weren’t yet old. After much contemplation and sympathy for our chili cheese fries/Philly cheese steak stomachs , we chose a thrill ride rather than the swinging gravity (AKA puke) ride. Picture a giant six edged star with chairs hanging off the edge that rotated. We got into that ride and it started swinging side by side as the huge apparatus began to rise. Within a few minutes, it accelerated and the chairs starting spinning in all directions. First we saw the stars, then we saw the concrete 100 feet below, then we saw the people in front of us swoop by. We screamed in a way that I didn’t know healthy lungs did. I held onto the shoulder safety harness with all my dear life, the humidity and me fighting for a final sweaty grasp of that steel bar that separated me from an untimely and unfortunate carnival death. I could hear Isa screaming just as loud, in gulps that vibrated as if her voicebox was going to fly out of her mouth at the speed of the ride. As it slowed, I could only scream to Isa, “We’re getting to fuckin’ old for this!!!” But inside I felt young and alive, shaken into joie de vivre by good old human technology-turned-entertainment.  We had made it and we weren’t human remains on the Carnival pavement below. Why humans find thrills at high speeds in upside down, sideways motions is beyond me. Is it evolutionary from the early days of fleeing, or does it bring  us back to our fetal lives to do somersaults?

It was 11 pm and our 6  am flight was beckoning us home. As we walked towards the exit, we enjoyed one last country singer sharing live music amongst a beer drinking crowd, next to displays of American military tanks. 

Our last stop was a game where a man would guess your age or weight. Since my whole life I have been assumed to be younger than I was, I thought I’d give it a try. In exchange for the chance to win that much needed made-in-China stuffed animal, I gave him my $3 and stood before him as he examined my face. He discretely wrote two numbers on a paper and asked me my age. Guess how old he thought I was??

Damn right, 36! He got it right on the nose. DO  I LOOK THAT OLD???!! I tried not too look disappointed as he sympathetically gave me a consolation price- a dirty fake plastic rose. He must have a lot of experience because the last time I was in Kentucky for the USA Transplant Games in 2006, I was carded for alcohol and the shopowner told me he thought I was 17.  I guess this second transplant aged me and gave me a few more wrinkles. Maybe I should have dressed more skimpy  and he would’ve thought i was younger ; ) .

Anyway, we left feeling fulfilled for the best end-of-summer Kentucky experience- a welcoming CF event, a summer evening ballgame and the mother of all State Fairs- the 104th Kentucky State Fair- a true cultural experience.

One Saturday  in Kentuck. A different world, different people, different lifestyles… but true America.

Thank you for reading this long post.
Best wishes,
ANA Stenzel