The first surgery went well, but...

Margie's first surgery went well, but she did not get to come home. For all of yesterday and into this morning, we thought she would likely be released early today, the second surgery could be scheduled for later and we could still make our planned trip to Arizona.

But it was not to be.

Five gall stones were removed from her, but they left a blood infection behind and it must be treated or it could become very serious. So she is still in the hospital, she will have her second surgery tomorrow and, for now, our trip is off.

Lynxton is still going, though. Tomorrow, he will head out with his parents and his big bros. They will fly to Phoenix, overnight there, then drive up to the White Mountain Apache reservation. The introduction of Lynxton to his Apache and Navajo family will begin.

Melanie, Charlie and Lisa are also scheduled to go.

It will be a different kind of Thanksgiving here.

A rumbling train causes Margie to sit right up in her hospital bed

Jobe and Kalib came to the hospital last night to visit their grandma. They did not quite know what to think of her hospital room and were a little hesitant to enter.

But enter they did. Kalib greatly loves his grandma and immediately began to tell her about a great adventure in his life. It had something to do with trains - and in particular, a train named Thomas.

Holy cow! What is that in Kalib's hands? Could it be a train? Could it be... Thomas the train?

Practically the whole family was there - except for Caleb, who had to stay home and go to his regular night shift and Lisa, who had spent some time hanging out here earlier in the day.

All present were very curious to see what Kalib would do with the train that he held in his hands.

Why, Kalib put the train on the table in front of his grandma, found a tunnel, and drove that train right through it and to the edge of a cliff!

Astute readers will notice that Jobe also holds a train engine - that's Percy - Percy the train. As we were all talking about Percy the train, the door opened and in walked my friend... Percy! Percy Aiken from Barrow, who had come down to be with his brother Earl, who is intensive care.

I know many people are wishing the best and praying for Margie and me, but Earl needs prayers and good thoughts much more than we do.

I went down to the ICU unit to see Earl and there I also saw some friends from Point Hope. Caroline Cannon who was there to support her son, Leroy Oenga, who also has a great need for good wishes and prayers.

This morning, I slept very late. I've been doing that a lot lately. When I got up, I knew that I should fix myself oatmeal, but, solitary individual though I am, I wanted to go someplace where I could sit in solitude among people, eat, sip a bit of coffee and be waited on.

So I headed off to breakfast.

Here is a lone diner, at Abby's. We were both alone, him and I.

The truth is, I forgot my camera when I to breakfast this morning, so these last two pictures are actually from Wednesday morning, before Margie came home from Anchorage, before her gall bladder struck her down. These pictures are standins for today, although today I went to Mat-Su Family.

They are now planning to subject Margie to two surgeries - the first one to remove her gall stones, and the second one to remove her gall bladder. I do not understand this. I do not know why they don't just take the gall bladder out with the stones in it and get it done at one time.

There must be a good reason, but I do not yet know what it is.

They are hoping to do the first surgery tomorrow and then the next the day or two after.

They would do the first today, but they still need to bring down her level of infection.

We are scheduled to depart for Arizona Monday morning on Alaska Airlines.

We are not going to make it. In Arizona, Lynxton will be introduced to his bigger Apache and Navajo family and we were greatly looking forward to being there for it.

I was going to do some heavy blogging.

Now it will go unblogged. It will be documented, though. Lavina will be posting on Facebook.

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Margie off to the emergency room; awaiting surgery

After spending a couple of days in town helping to take care of the little ones, Lavina brought Margie home about this time yesterday afternoon. At first, all seemed good with her. Later, she started to complain about abdominal pains. Then, even bundled up under blankets or standing just inches from the blazing wood stove she felt that she was freezing.

Outside, it was freezing - the temperature wasn't bad, but windchills were down to 40 below, they said on the radio. Inside it was warm, but Margie was shivering and freezing.

I kept saying we should take her to the emergency room but she kept refusing to go, saying this would pass and she would be okay.

Just before 10:00 PM, her suffering struck me as extreme so I told her we were going and that was that.

So off we went to the Emergency room of the Mat-Su Regional Medical Center.

The story gets kind of long and I am in no mood to tell it right now and am even wondering whatever got into me to ever include daily life in my blogging at all, but, to make it short, Margie is now at the Alaska Native Medical Center in Anchorage. Before they sent her there, the doctor thought her gall bladder might have to be removed even before the night was over, but the the medication they gave her by IV worked.

Now, the doctor in Anchorage thinks she may not need to have her gall bladder removed, but she has some bad gall stones which definitely must to go. So they are evaluating her further to see which route to go - full bladder removal or stones only.

As for me, while I believe I have turned the corner on these shingles, they still do rage and I still need much more sleep than normal and I forgot to take my pain meds to the hospital with me and my jacket too and it hasn't been easy and I damn near froze just walking through the parking lot (I dropped Margie right at the door so she did not have to face the wind) and this is enough for now.

I am getting tired of reporting on these little crisises - and that's what they are - little. They are not big. They are not life-shattering. She will get her surgery and she will be fine and these shingles will pass. So many people I know have been suffering much worse.

Still, as small as they are, bundled together they kind of makes it harder to move on to the next step - especially because all I want to do is to sleep, and one can't accomplish anything when one is asleep.

On my way to see Larry Aiken's miracle smile, I saw many other things

 

I had thought that I might wait a day or two or three to go back to town and see Larry. His pre-surgery prognosis was that afterward he would be in ICU for two weeks, would not be able to talk and for most of that time would not even be able to recognize the people who came to see him.

Then, close to 5:00 PM when I was pedaling my bicycle from Metro Cafe, where I shot a nice little series of studies that I will share with you later, my cell rang. I stopped my bike, pulled out my iPhone and the saw the name "Larry Aiken" on the screen.

I knew it could not be Larry and that it was probably his cousin, Percy. Sure enough, it was.

I was kind of scared.

Then Percy told me the surgery had gone extremely well, better than anyone had even dared to anticipate. Instead of moving Larry into ICU, the doctors sent put him on the Fourth Floor. Not only was he conscious and aware of his surroundings, but he could talk. Percy put Larry on. 

I was surprised at how strong his voice sounded.

I told them I would come in, somewhere between 8:00 and 9:00. Percy said that would be good, that Larry would be pretty groggy but would know I was there.

So I finished a couple of small tasks, took a shower, ate dinner and hit the road about 7:30.

There were mountains in front of me, but I could go around them, easy enough.

I saw a lady who I do not think was very happy.

I saw soldiers, marching across an overpass. I wondered if any or all of them had been to Iraq or Afghanistan, or if not, might yet go.

The odds seemed pretty high. Fort Richardson has sent many soldiers into battle.

Just before I left home, Margie had the news on and I was a little startled to see coverage on a book signing that was at that moment taking place at the Anchorage Museum of History and Art. It was for the newly published Epicenter book, Eskimo Star - From the Tundra to Tinseltown: The Ray Mala Story, authored by Lael Morgan. 

Ray Mala was the first Native American international film star and first gained his fame in the film, Eskimo. Along with Igloo and Last of the Pagans, it is being featured in the Mala Film Festival at the Bear Tooth this evening.

When I entered the museum, I saw the star's son, Dr. Ted Mala, grandchildren Ted Jr. and Galena being photographed by Rob Stapleton. 

Dr. Mala practices both western and traditional Iñupiaq medicine and is director of the South Central Foundation, supplier of health care to Alaska Natives and American Indians in this part of Alaska.

Mala's wife, Emma, joined her family for a Rob Stapleton shot.

I took advantage of the situation and shot a family portrait myself.

Rob with Ted Jr. Rob is one of Alaska's more outstanding photographers and he is a friend. It would take a signficant amount of space for me to adequately relate all the ways he helped me and my family make it through our early struggling days in Alaska.

He is also a pilot and an aviation and ultralight aircraft enthusiast.

Lael Morgan signing copies of her book. Lael began her career as a journalist who came to Alaska by sailboat a few decades back and then roamed the entire state. She is the author of Art and Eskimo Power: - the life and Times of Howard Rock and Good Time Girls of the Alaska-Yukon Gold Rush, about the prostitutes who took care of the lonely and desperate men who roamed the north at that time.

Along with Kent Sturgis, she founded Seattle based Epicenter Press and, beginning with the best-seller Two Old Women by Gwich'in author Velma Wallis, they have had several good success stories.

I believe Epicenter was the first of the two dozen or so publishing houses that I tried to interest in the work that became my book, Gift of the Whale: the Iñupiat Bowhead Hunt, A Sacred Tradition. She took a good look at it, told me was very impressive but that if Epicenter published it, "we would be bombed by Greenpeace."

Still, it is not impossible that we could publish a book together in the future. I don't know what the odds of it happening are - ten percent, maybe?

I would have liked to have hung around and talked to Lael, Dr. Mala, Rob and others, but I was in hurry to get to ANMC and see Larry, so I headed for the door.

As I neared it, I came upon Vic Fischer, who was a State Senator when I first met him almost 30 years ago. Before that, he served in the Territorial Legislature and was a delegate to Alaska's constitutional convention. He has remained active in Alaska's political and cultural life and I am pleased to say that whenever I read an editorial that he has written, I tend to agree with him.

He has deflated some absurd nonsense and claptrap in this state, but the purveyors of it have gone on purveying nonsense and claptrap, anyway.

Just as I was about to go through the door and back to my car, I saw that Rob had just got done taking a picture of Elmer, the Yup'ik actor, Galena, and Ossie, Yup'ik musician, poet and actor. They looked altogether too beautiful for me to pass by without taking at least a snap myself, so I did.

Then I stepped through the door and saw a face I had not seen in at least ten years, maybe more: Tom Richards, Native journalist and activist who worked with Howard Rock at the Tundra Times before I showed up.

Can you feel the Alaska history that I passed by in just a few minutes time? One day, my friends, one day... I will figure out how to make this blog and my as yet-to-be created online magazine work and then the stories that I will track down...

I will never get them all. There are too many, and all the authors and photographers and bloggers and facebookers and whoever that are working in Alaska combined to tell stories of this place can never tell them all.

But I will tell a few of them.

A very few. But even that will be something.

Remember... Larry was expected to in ICU, suffering, so heavily sedated that he would not even recognize me if he saw me at all.

This is how I found him - smiling big, and talking in the strongest, deepest, voice that I have heard come out of him for a long time. The terrible pains that have kept him awake at night had eased off.

What happened was a miracle, he told me. And this why he believes that miracle happened: his physican, a woman from Phoenix whose name he could not recall but I will add in later, was not only skilled, but before she operated on him, she prayed, and asked for help. In Barrow, about 20 members of Barrow's Volunteer Search Rescue got together before his surgery, prayed, and sang, "Amazing Grace."

The night before, right after I left, a man came and prayed for him and when he raised his hand Larry says he felt a strong power. There were all the people who had sung for him the night before - and so many who had prayed.

Larry invited me to take this picture so that he could express his thanks to all those who have prayed for him and helped him in anyway. You are too numerous to name, but you know who you are.

Larry said many visitors had already come by. While I was there, he was visited by Harry Ahngasuk and his wife, Sarah Neakok-Ahngasuk of Barrow. That's his cousin, Percy, on the right. Percy has been with him the whole time.

For me, these past several months have been rough - very rough.

But when I visited Larry last night, I just felt joy. Pure joy. I felt so glad. So, very, very happy.

It was excellent to see his story take such a positive turn.

At about 10:30 PM, I left Larry and his guests, stopped to chat in the parking lot with a lady from Anaktuvuk Pass and then drove home. As I came down Lucille Street in Wasilla, I saw that the police K-9 unit was active. Someone was not having a very good time. I know nothing beyond that.

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On the night before his surgery, Larry Aiken joins in a singspiration at the Alaska Native hospital

As I write these words, my friend, Larry Aiken, Iñupiaq whaler and artist of Barrow, is undergoing a six to eight hour surgical procedure to remove a radiation and chemo-killed cancer tumor that extends from his throat through his esophagus into his stomach. The surgery is extremely complex and a specialist has come up from Phoenix, Arizona, to assist.

Last night, I drove into town to visit Larry and when I went in to see him, I left my camera in my car, thinking that we would just have a quiet visit, I would wish him my best, we might share a prayer and then I would go home and leave him to the surgeons.

Indeed, that is just how the first hour of our visit went. For the past couple of weeks, since the second scheduled surgery had to be postponed due to a throat infection, Larry has been staying at the Quyana House, which is attached to the Alaska Native Medical Center hospital. 

It is a short walk down the hall from there to the reception area and foyer of the hospital, where music was being performed. So we walked down to the foyer, to see who we might see and listen to all who would sing and perform. Paul Wilson, a well-known Iñupiaq gospel singer originally from Kotzebue but now living in Anchorage, was leading the singing.

Among the other singers was Ada Lynn Negovanna, originally of Wainwright, and her 15 year-old son, Tagalak Negovanna. So I went back to the car and retrieved my camera.

That's Paul in the background with the guitar, Ada to the left of Larry, Sarah, also of Barrow to his right and Tagalak sitting at the right.

As Paul sings and another patient or guest at the hospital raises his arms to feel the spirit, Larry explains his tumor and the surgery that he faces to Ada and Sarah.

After his surgery, Larry is expected to remain in intensive care for about two weeks. He will have a feeding tube down his throat and will not be able to speak. For most of that time, he told me, he will not be able to recognize any who might come to see him, due to the effects of the medications he must take to get through this.

Ada joins in the singing.

Tagalak, Larry, Ada and Sarah. Many songs were sung, such as Arigaa, Tell Me Why You Love, Jesus, How Great Thou Art and several others.

The spirit and feelings were strong in this room.

In the singing, one feels both joy and pain.

As all humans must, all present have known the horrific pain of deep loss, but in getting together to sing in this place where so many come both to heal and to die, they share it - among themselves, and with any stranger who might happen to wonder into the room.

And in the sharing, and reaching out to faith and belief in beyond, there is comfort to be found.

Along with Sarah, Larry lifts his right hand to feel the spirit.

As anyone would, he has felt a great deal of fear as this day has approached. He has gone many nights with little or no sleep.

"I am ready for my surgery now," he says, when the song ends.

On her Facebook page, Ada has posted a video of her and Paul singing.

Larry then returns to Quyana house, where another visitor, Leo Kaleak, who has hunted with Larry in the crew of George Adams, comes to visit him, and to share whaling stories.

Up in Barrow, the whalers are getting ready. They are cutting trail through ice that this year is very rough, with pressure ridges that I am told reach as high as 60 feet. The other night, Larry's captain called him to seek a little advice on stocking and organizing the camp.

The CD's that Larry holds were made by Ada and Tagalak. I have one of them, too. Later, I will see if I can add a song or two from that CD to this post. This is something that I have not yet done, but, hopefully, it will be easy to do.*

*Okay - I downloaded the CD into iTunes, but have so far been unable to find a way to upload a tune to here.

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