What Really Matters?

Number one on my list "Things I Must Do Before I Die" is go on safari and see wildebeest in their natural habitat. As far back as I can remember, I have always wanted to go to the Serengeti, Masai Mara and Ngorogoro Crater. Thinking about Kenya and Tanzania brings a calm serenity to my heart. It would be a dream come true to be able to go. Being that I now live in Germany, Africa is that much closer.

I looked into the cost of a few safaris. There are several to Kenya, several to Tanzania, several to South Africa. Usually though, there were limitations to one country or another. I had faith that before our tour in Germany ended, the safari of a lifetime would reveal itself to me.

Because I want this to happen, I was motivated to find a job that would ease the expense of the trip. It has taken me three years of substitute teaching to finally save up enough money for my husband, the most wonderful man in the whole wide world and me to Africa. That's three years one year of substituting at a high school and two years in elementary school. One year of adolescent attitude and two years of small children with glue and glitter. I have even spent several days with the pre-K group. I like to call them "pee-pee pants" because that sometimes happens during nap time. In addition to substitute teaching, I worked for Installation Access Control making sure soldiers and their families as well as authorized visitors had the proper identification to be allowed onto post. I did all of this not because I had to, for I am lucky enough to be supported by a fabulous husband. I did it because I wanted to earn the travel money myself. I didn't want my husband or my family to go without for my life-long dream.

Africa...Africa...Africa...

Recently, I came across THE SAFARI. It is exactly the safari I have always wanted. It covers both Kenya and Tanzania and includes the three places I want to see before I die; Serengeti, Masai Mara, and Ngorogoro Crater. The price was just right. I even went so far as to run out and get vaccinated for Typhoid and hepatitis A. I still need Yellow Fever and Malaria. I even put aside extra money to pay for the individual visas needed to enter each country. This is it. This is AFRICA.

Now....while all of this is happening, my wonderful husband has been suffering with probably the worst case of hemorrhoids of all time. He has agonized in his private hell for as long as I have known him, usually silently. On occasion when the flare up is particularly severe, he casually mentions his discomfort to me. His being in Iraq under stress and existing on a diet of MREs and mess hall food hasn't help his situation much.

His R&R time could have been more relaxing, but his hiney hole wouldn't let up. Instead of hanging out at home or receiving a massage at the local spa, my husband was in a doctors office bent over an exam table. When the doctor saw the extent of my husband's reason for scheduling the appointment, he exclaimed, "Holy Smokes! No wonder you are uncomfortable!"

The doctor advised my husband to immediately schedule an appointment for surgery and rectify the problem. My husband's only question was, "Can I be well enough recovered to go back to Iraq in a week?"

The doctor shook his head. To which my amazing husband responded, "Well then, I'll have to wait until I come back in the spring." That's a man. He chose to return to Iraq and continue the good fight even though he could have had the surgery to save his hiney hole from falling off delaying his return by 10 days at most.

So now, time for his return draws near. The returning soldiers are allotted a brief period of time to re-integrate back into the community before being allowed to take leave. The clock starts ticking when they physically return to Schweinfurt. This is all good, but for those returning later than the main body, their time gets pinched in the end. Everybody has to be back to work by mid-April.

My husband, the most wonderful man ever, my reason for waking up each day, is one of those late arrivals. Because he has been so miserable for so long, I have scheduled a follow-up doctor's appointment to have his hiney hole fixed once and for all.

The re-integration time period is mandatory. The doctor's only do surgery on Mondays and Wednesdays. He needs a bare minimum of two weeks of recovery time. Even if my husband were to get into surgery on the very first available Monday, the timing cuts it too close. I am just unwilling to take my husband to Africa with his hiney hole out of wack.

I explained the time line to him and he gallantly offered to postpone the surgery until after Africa. He has waited for so long. There is no way I am going to make him wait one second longer than necessary.

The safari will not be happening this spring.

To my absolute amazement, this isn't as disappointing as I might have thought. I love my husband so much, much more than I ever could have imagined loving another person, that canceling a trip of a lifetime in a minor set back. It pales in comparison to postponing a surgery that will alleviate his pain.

People claim that you know you love someone when their happiness means the world to you. I never experienced the extent that feeling until I cancelled my dream safari. I just wish everyone could know the feeling of true love.