Mont Saint Michel

     After ordering dryers for the sisters and removing the one that didn't work properly into our van also,  we were faced with a choice.  We could go directly to Alencon to check out the repair work done there and stay the night partway home, or we could backtrack up to Mont Saint Michel, then head to Paris the next day, checking on the apartment on the way.  Hmmmm.  I vote for door number 2!  

We got back to a nearby city close to 5 p.m. and found lodging, and since the sun was still high in the sky, we drove over to the monument without waiting any longer.  The government is 'fixing' things there to be able to handle the crowds of tourists that come to visit .  We parked in a brand new lot, bought a bus ticket for $8.50, then had to walk a half a mile to catch the bus.  It drove us for about 1 minute, then let us off to walk the rest of the way to the abbey walls.  But that was OK, because it was a wonderful sight to behold.  Jack remembers having been there once with his parents.  There are stairs galore cut into the rock, and you wind up and down and around where there are now restaurants and shops instead of homes (even some hotel-type rooms too, I think).  The abbey at the very top is touted to be spectacular inside, but was closed that night, so we missed that, but by going slow and easy we saw a lot of wonderful, ancient buildings, and I loved every minute of our 2 hours there.

According to legend, the archangel Michael appeared in the dreams of the Bishop of Avranches (a nearby city) in 708 AD, and the monastery was built in his name over several hundred years, from the 10th to the 15th centuries.  We were sad to have missed seeing the monastery and its superb craftsmanship.  Jack was brave to tackle all those staircases (he walks down them backwards because his knees don't work too well anymore).  People along the way applauded him, and shouted, "Bon courage!"  I'm so glad we got to see Mont Saint Michel this time, it was so worth the effort.    

At Work for the Mission

      The first part of last week was spent in Rouen where the sisters needed a new stove for their kitchen and a dryer also.  We finished some work on their shower, ordered their appliances, replaced an old crumbling bookcase, and repaired two electric hanging lights before checking into a hotel for the night.  The next day the nearby Elders helped us remove the broken dryer out to the van, and then we looked at two apartments for possible rentals, one of which would be really good for elders, the second one an old, interesting walk-up with creaky, squeeky floors.  

We left for Le Havre, where they have plumbing problems, bright and early the next morning.  Both of the bathroom sink faucets were broken, so we drove until we found a Bricorama ( Home Depot wannabe ) and bought replacement fixtures.  After hunting all over for the water turn-off valve, finally out in the main hall a door opened to reveal valves for every apartment inside.  Hmmmm.  By holding our breath and quickly flipping switches, we determined which one was theirs.  Soon Jack was in his normal position once again, on his back, on the floor, this time under a sink as he worked to loosen the rusty screws.  It wasn't too long before things were back together again and we were on our way to Caen.  We spent the day there painting their formerly moldy kitchen walls, and spreading on more mud where needed.

For the sake of 'beauty', even French porcelain toilets are designed to look classy, but when something goes awry, pity the poor workers who have to try to figure out how to fix them.  Their toilet seat is a slip and slide affair not bolted down any more because the screws go in but do not come out anywhere.  We took pictures and just lately found a Brico Marche (this time) where we got some answers.  The man showed Jack how there was a hidden exit place way in the back of the whole unit, but very hard to reach if it is right up to the wall.  The poor elders will have to endure for awhile longer until we can return.

We left there for the long trip on Highway 84A to Vannes and Lorient where both sets of sisters need dryers for their apartments. Suddenly Jack said, "Look, there's Mont Saint Michel!"  I looked out my window and there in the distance, standing all by itself, was that marvelous national monument, an ancient abbey and fortress city built on a mountain of rock in the ocean.  When the tide comes in, the water completely surrounds the tower filled city topped with its distinctive pointed spire.  It looked all blue, way far away, yet so breathtakingly beautiful.  'Ohhhh', I whispered.  "We will come again", Jack told me.  I hope so.

Mission Office Couples

Elder & Sister Roberts: back right
Elder & Sister Prince: next to Mom

The mission office has  replaced the four elders that labored there with two couples. Elder and Sister Roberts are on the main floor and Elder and Sister Prince are down stairs. Elder and Sister Roberts are from northern Utah and he is the mission accountant and Sister Roberts is the mission secretary. After they had been out a few months Sister Roberts had a stroke and they returned home for treatment and recuperation. The thing that is remarkable about them is that even though Sister Roberts was not 100%, they returned to finish out their mission and they both do a remarkable job for the mission. Elder Roberts has a good background in accounting and he has taken the bull by the horns and has made order out of chaos.

   Before the two couples came into the office, elders were called with little or no understanding of the mission finances, and in a sense thrown to the wolves after a short training period. The mission accountants that we knew before Elder Roberts were amazing in handling their tremendous task. In looking at all the problems that came their way some things were neglected and some knowledge was lost in the transfers of accountants. The other problem was the elders called were the cream of the crop and so the mission lost hard working, baptizing missionaries.

   It is interesting to see the change that has come to the organization and new ideas on how to fulfill the paper work and financial records since an experienced person has come on board  The other thing that has made a big difference is that the two couples are in the office much longer than the four elders. The four elders were going to district meetings weekly so Monday being preparation day and Tuesday being district meetings were essentially shot as far as work days were concerned. Add in zone meetings and their regular teaching and finding assignments in the evenings, the office work suffered some what.

   Elder Roberts at times takes no guff when it comes to locals trying to take advantage of the church. He has enough background to know when someone is trying to play him for a sucker and has enough moxie to let the others know that they can't count on the church for being the one with the deep pockets.

   Sister Roberts is just fantastic. She still uses a cane and has her rough days, but she is a trooper and some days stays on task when she would rather be home. She handles all the new missionaries, transfers, and puts out a mission newsletter to keep us all up to date. Through Sister Roberts we know where the missionaries are each transfer. She also sends out  the referrals when the mission receives them and keeps track of the contacts that are made to the missionaries. She also arranges for visa appointments, drivers licenses and medical appointments that go along with the visas.

   Elder and Sister Prince are from Midway, Utah. He was a dentist and they are both trying to learn their assignments, but because of their desire and energy they are getting the hang of their responsibilities. Sister Prince is in charge of the phones and the vehicles used in the mission. Each elder tried to put his stamp on the phone system and she is now trying to put some good comprehensive order to all of the system. She is tireless as she runs up and down stairs keeping everyone informed and doing all the paper work. Sister Prince handles all the materials sent to the missionaries when there is a zone conference and also organizes the new missionary arrivals and the activities with her husband.

   Think of getting 23 new missionaries from the airport to the church in downtown Paris without losing anyone and taking care of lunch for everyone that came to instruct the new missionaries and the newbies. The new missionaries are housed in a hotel in Paris and then after breakfast, they take all 23 through the metro to a place of interest so they can see something in Paris and have time to catch up on their journals.  Then its back to the chapel for more meetings and interviews. Now imagine the next group that comes through is not 23 but 40 new missionaries. I would tie a rope around each group to make sure I didn't lose anyone.

   Elder Prince is in charge of apartments, appliances, and furniture. He is in the process of photographing all the apartments and the furnishings. This is especially hard since we are in the fast and furious time of new missionaries and new apartments. Joanne helps a great deal as she takes pictures in each apartment we visit. He is in charge of all legal documents coming from apartment owners and the church. This is a frustrating task since neither side of the legal process is always on time. He is in charge of getting the electricity in the name of the mission and also following a law in France of having each gas or electric heater inspected each year.

   The tasks he has are so foreign from being a dentist and his French is not expanding like he would like, so his frustration level is peaking, but he handles it all very well. He is on top of all the new things that come to him that he often surprises the President when he has already accomplished something before being asked.

   Two things have happened because of these two couples; one is that some permanent stability has been brought to the office with some experience that was needed, and two; the four missionaries that were some of the best and hardest workers are out in the field contacting, teaching, baptizing, and reactivating.

   Congrats to a dedicated staff that take a great deal of pressure off the President and his wife, and for the professional way they accomplish this important work for the Lord.

Operation a success, but almost died of starvation!

 As we were traveling the mission to furnish the new apartments, we found ourselves on the east end of the mission at the city of Strasbourg. We had just gone to IKEA, and had a load of furniture, when we found at the checkout that the mission credit card and our personal mission card had rejected the more than 1,500  euro purchase and we didn't have enough cash to cover the cost. With disgust we left the merchandise to the bewildered cashier and headed for the mini bus.

   We made the decision to return to Paris since without the furnishings we were at a loss staying in the eastern part of the mission. All in all the problems with the credit cards made our trip back home to Paris a  fortuitous move, since the closer to home we got the sicker I became. By Sunday I felt worse and decided to stay in bed and see if I could ride out the problem. I felt it was food poisoning and that it would run its course and I would be up and around in the morning.

   Monday morning came and the pain was much worse. The pain was so intense that I hit the floor and, as much as my old body could accomplish the fetal position, I tried to find relief in between groans and  quick prayers. A call the the president and his immediate call to a member of the Torcy Ward brought one of the brothers who is a retired doctor. His visit and  rapid exam determined that at my age I had appendicitis. A quick drive to a local hospital put me in the emergency ward. The major difficulty here was that I was given no relief for the pain and I was now among the public and had to maintain some semblance of decorum when it came to moaning and groaning.

   Again it was Brother Pierre Lazarus who used his quiet influence as a doctor to get me attention quicker than I would have received had I had come on my own with Joanne. Wheeled into another waiting room, I was examined by a nurse and then a doctor's assistant. At this time, about  two hours into the ordeal at the hospital, I was given something for the pain. With less pain I was able to take the long wait for my turn at the MRI or, as the French call it, the "scanner".  I passed through the scanner three times and each time I could hear a voice proclaim that there was a blockage and then a repeat that the rest was clear.

   Returning to the waiting room I had no idea what was to transpire, but much later I was wheeled into the operation room. The most terrible part of the operation room and MRI was having to move myself onto another flat bed for each procedure. I am a big boy and the pain of moving from bed to flat table was excruciating to the point I almost bit through my lip. After being situated on the operating table the next thing I remember was regaining my faculties in the recovery room. They told me that the operation ended early Tuesday morning around 12:30 AM, and that the reason it took so long was that the inflamed appendix had adhered itself to another part of the body and they could not remove it without perforating it. This caused some of the infection to enter the area and much of the time was a mop up operation.

   Tuesday I was given liquids through an "iv" and, to my joy, antibiotics and pain killers. On Wednesday night I was offered food, and this was the beginning of my battle for survival. Without the "iv" I was at the mercy of hospital food for my health and over the next few days I had to find ways to fight off the death sentence of French hospital food. We who have spent any time in hospitals know that the food is made to order for hundreds of patients and to get it to the rooms while still warm, it is placed in steamed sealed containers. This process makes the desire of those who try to ingest the food wane. The food has lost its savor and becomes one bland mouthful after another. In my case I was on a restricted diet and at the beginning I could have no solid food.

    Each meal was some type of fruit sauce and since the drinks were coffee, tea or water, I had to opt for water. I drank water morning, noon and night and any time in between. Water became so tasteless that I began to dread having to drink it, but it was necessary so my bodily functions could become more normal. It is a good thing that I became friends with the nurses and most of the food staff because at meal times I began to have them bring me the fruits that were delivered at each meal. I began to hoard the fruit in a special drawer in my room so that the one food handler wouldn't confiscate my precious fruit stash. So with pears, apples, kiwi, and some smuggled strawberries, I made my own fruit salads with the packages of sugar I asked for, even though I didn't drink the coffee or tea.

   This ability to get my hands on fruit and extra containers of apple and other fruit sauces became my life line to survival as the week went on and I was introduced to more solid foods. There are not many foods I don't eat, but each time I was presented with the food of the day it was always something that I did not like to eat. One day I had an endive salad. Endive is a bitter plant that I had to come to France to experience. I found out it was something that  was to be avoided, especially when it came almost exclusively by itself. I did find two very small pieces of tomato and a ripe olive in the salad and I devoured the three of them. Then came the main course, squash and fish. I am not a fish eater and squash is never on my birthday menu. The two steamed together was more than my poor nose could take. I am not here to hurt those of you who love these foods, but I want you to think of foods you would avoid and that puts you in my position. It was at times like this (and that seemed to be every meal) that my stash of fruit would save the day.

   I asked the nurse if there was any fruit juicy that was off limits to me and she replied that there was not, but because of limited resources fruit juice was not on the menu. I then got Joanne to smuggle in a carton of grape juice and she brought some buttered cookies because butter came with the hard crusted small piece of bread each meal. The taste on my palate was heavenly. The juice burst upon my taste buds and I almost thought I had reached an out of body experience.

   As the week went on I regained a little strength and made some exercise trips around the room and little by little the tubes that were attached as companions began to disappear and by Sunday I received permission  to return home. I appreciate the expert doctor and nurse care I received during my stay. I don't think that I could have been cared for any better in the U.S., but I maintain that if I hadn't had my wits about me, the favorable care by nurses and doctors could have been thwarted by a slow death by starvation due to hospital food.

   I have had the care of Joanne for a week. I promised president that I would stay home for a week before getting back to work. The familiar foods prepared by Joanne brought back my desire to eat and taste. We got back to work yesterday as planned and had a full day. Today is for rest and answering phone calls to plan the rest of the week.

   I would like to reflect on the experience and say that an operation that comes mostly to the young hit me just a couple of years later than when you may have gone through it. I never did say why me, but I began to reflect on what I have learned since this experience. First we never know what this life will bring to our frail existence. Second is the pain I had during this time. My first thought was that I need to depend on my Savior, Jesus Christ, so I don't come to the judgement day and have to pay the price of my sins without His merciful forgiveness. The pains of my sins without His atonement would be more than I experienced this last month. I have also learned, though, that the pain I endured was nothing to the excruciating pain that Jesus suffered due to His being willing to take upon Him our pain, sins, and sufferings.

   I am on the mend and would like to thank you for your prayers and kind thoughts on my behalf. Life will continue and the work will forth with or without us, so let's get on wagon and become a part of this great endeavor.

Love,

 Jack