Saturday, August 31, 2013

Back on the Chain Gang

Things had been jumping along pretty well up until the bug struck me earlier in the week. Now I'm still fighting with the side effects of that. About half boo boo tummy and an over production of everything mouth. Saliva, mucus.....swear words. All of it. Is it a set back? Yeah, most likely a small one. I'm hoping it's a short lived mucus factory. If not I'll have to take the damn suction with me everywhere, even for short errands. The little nasty vurp yesterday didn't help. All that acid makes my throat raw, which makes more mucus, which I can't swallow or spit, which makes me suction, which makes me have to hack up the gunk, which can make me vurp,  ei ei o. Tis a vicious circle that for a time is inescapable. But this like other things shall pass. I hope

 I'm back on the chain gang. For a bit I had a touch more freedom of getting out and moving around. The damn bug stopped that, and if this mucus thing doesn't settle down, I will have that sliced down some as well. Good taste, courtesy, and just plain being polite, I'm not going to vacuum the crap out of my mouth in a restaurant. That's not only gross, it's uncalled for. Same thing with a movie theater. I'll have to head to the car or the can. It's the only sensible thing to do, but it cuts into my fun time, and that chaps my white Irish ass just a bit. It takes part of my life on my terms out of my hands. That REALLY pisses me off. Having to alter what I do simply because I refuse to choke on something that's out of my control. Strange, you say, that something I can't control chaps my ass. It does, simply because it's my body. The damn thing is revolting (well, yeah, but that's from surgery) and I can't get an upper hand on it yet. I know the cancer is going to keep me from gaining control over things. But snot? Bullshit. I'll find something that works. Part of it is allowing the PA that hasn't so much as taken my BP to dictate what I know works for me. The set back is something of my own creation. I should paddle myself, but that's a bit on the kinky side even for me. But, alas, it is what it is and there's nothing for it but looking for a way to make it better. We are, however, heading closer and closer to cotton cutting. If there's a crop out there that may have something to do with my snotty self. There are a few things that get me good. Mesquite when it's setting pods, cotton when it flowers and when it starts to head, and milo when it heads up. Whew, plugged and snotty head for all three of those, and since I'm not in milo country, it's got to be the cotton. Yeah, that's the ticket, it's the coootttttoon.  Yeah

 Back on the chain gang too, because like all humans, I'm a creature of habit. As abhorrent as that seems to me I find it to be true. Looking back I railed against my habits, but I couldn't help it anymore than I could stop breathing. I'd try to break my routine, but it jacked the way the rest of my day went I just gave up and sighed. Now, like any rule there are exceptions. When I travelled, bike or car, the only habit I kept was the "Let's get up early, lazy", because face it, the best part of the day is before sunrise. There are two places where being up before 0500 is just a labor of Sisyphus for finding anything to do. Metropolitan areas, or small town. I've driven all over the place in Fort Worth at 0430-0530, looking for either coffee or donuts, or both. Well, not all over, but I've been more than a few miles on the scooter. None of my friends knew of any place, because they were never up that early, and I didn't know any locals to ask if there was such a place in existence. It seems coffee and donuts are elusive. The same thing with small towns. The LK has convenience stores, but their coffee sucks. And I don't want to go eat at a 24 hr diner. Even though I'm a pig and can do it, it's better if I don't eat two full breakfasts within three hours of each other.
Part of the reason I have these habits is efficiency. I'd get up, go lift and cardio for an hour to an hour and a half, shower, get into the work duds, go to the coffee shop early to make sure the girls weren't jumped while opening up, have a cup, read the paper, head to work. Once at work it was check well status on the computer program that had all the wells on pump off controllers, so I had an idea where to go look for trouble first. Check production. Make sure it looked reasonable, and try to find why it didn't if it looked jacked up. Check with the pumpers to make sure they had no issues, or to fix the issues they had or find someone that could if I couldn't do what they needed. Build well bore diagrams and pull history for the guys that chase the rigs. Put out new rod/unit designs on the new wells to make sure we got all the good out of both without causing surface or downhole failures. Work on the failure report on wells we had pulled the month before. Hit the field be no later than 0900, do field work until 15-1600. Finish daily reports, hit the highway home buy 17-1800. Dinner and in bed by no later than 2200, up at 0200-0230. Weekends I slept until 0430. Routine, but I got more done on my own than the two guys they hired to fill my spot. I had to, there was only one of me.

  Since November of last year, there hasn't been much routine at all. Other than visit the docs, ride around and stare at people working, or watch the boob tube. After January 22 the only routine was PEG tube feedings and meds. swell, that's not true. I spent time with my wife and kids. She argued for me until they started some PT, which got some gym time back and that greatly improves my attitude. I've also become a Facebook junkie. It's inconvenient  for and a bother for me to get out and around now, so I go walk and do my best to see some sunlight and other people, but really I'm kind of pinned to the house. I do not like this at all, but it is what it is, and I get out when I can for as long as I can every day. Even if it's just a drive across town or to a movie with the family. I've become a dang junkie though, to the things people post on news and other sites. It's addicting to me. I'm amazed, frankly at the lack of knowledge of how local and state governments work. Even more amazed at how much people think they deserve from their respective governments. I for one have never expected anything but a pain in the ass from any of them. I bitch about taxes, it's true. Federal, local, and state. Mostly local, because those boys can piss off more of my hard earned money per capita than the Fed. Shocking. But, I digress, this is about the Chain Gang.
 So yeah, I'm on this cancer chain gang that frankly pisses me off and wears me out more than my 18-20 hr days when I was working. The difference is, this chain gang changes from day to day. Yesterday I felt damn perky, didn't need to suction a lot (which is a God send). This morning it's been nothing but suction, cough until my sides hurt, feed, drug, suction again and in between suction some more. This is eating into my plans to at least get Liz out for a ride with the top down while it was still about half cool out. THAT pisses me off. Maybe I can con her into helping me sort out the brake issue on the bike. I've been putting that off, and I think it's because when I do, I can get her oil changed, checked up, inspected and then sold. Subconsciously I probably don't want to sell Fat Girl. I know I've got to, she's sitting in the garage looking 40 kinds of forlorn. She's supposed to have had at least 7,000 more miles on her this summer and I've let her down. She knows this, it upsets her. So, either I get her fixed, or I sell her to the dealer for less than I can get out of her to someone I know will ride her like she should be ridden.
  Back to family time. Today will be a suck ass  as far as family time goes, I'll take what I can get. Daughter and grandson are here, that's pretty cool. I'll see if he wont read me something. And there's always a chance the coughing and other stuff with calm down shortly and the day is salvageable for part anyway. I can grab Liz and we can head to the Farmer's Market, which around here is like a small craft sale rather than a big market like we were used to in farm country up north. I can taunt the dog with Milk Bones, but that's only good for a minute, HA! I'll suck it up, Buttercup and take the portable suction with us, and go somewhere. As long as it's not an eating establishment, the folks can pogue may hoane as far as it grossing them out. I'm not fond of having to do it either, dick heads. Or perhaps you think I enjoy drooling I can't control or hacking that I can't clear out. Bite me.

 OOOOOOO!!!! I'm already feeling more like the old me, it's already a good day. It's good because Baxter III hasn't beaten me yet. I CAN still get around. I don't HAVE to talk well to make myself understood, that's what middle fingers are for.
 Actually, yeah, I'm still doing things on my terms. I'm looking at the blog now and think it comes off a bit whiny. And if it does, tough shit, whiny was how I was feeling when I started it. I don't feel like that now at all. Now I feel tired! I'm still hacking and all, but it's not as bad as it was and that's a good thing. The family is up, and banging around. That's the best thing. Probably my greatest joy right now is sitting and listening. Really listening, as they go about their morning constitutionals. Right now they are holed up in my bedroom talking to Liz. I can hear their voices, but not what they are saying. My daughter and grandson getting him dressed. Her very familiar voice, his not so familiar but getting more so voice. He's pretty cool. Giving mom a bit of a hard time with school right now, but I understand why and so does she. He made a deal with YaYa Liz last night about school. I think it'll be a turning point.
 Liz is getting to be their "Go To" guy. She always was for me, but it's different having the kids go to her instead of me. It's heartening in the fact that they trust her and more so that she is willing to take on that job of listener and aid de camp. Sure, it bothers me a bit. I was getting used to being the "Go To" guy. I always hoped I didn't foul up too badly. They are good kids and adults. They don't need much from my other than a "yes, that's good" or "have you thought about" from me in the last few years. But every day slides me a bit closer to Critical Mass, and it's damn cool they will be left in strong, wise hands.
 Yes, I'll still be checking on them, make no mistake. And  until then, I'll move along and let them do what they want to do to help me out. They are all going to get see this to the end. I've got to make that part as big a help as I can for them. And, even though it cuts against my grain, I'm giving up a bit of my home independence to allow that. I've done so many things on my own in my life, maybe it's time to share some of the dying part. I'm beginning  to think that is where the true strength lies, knowing when to say, "I need help", not just going until you drop. I did that at work, why should home be any different? (because I never had to ask before, is why)

 Alright, that's enough blathering for one day.
 All y'all pull up your socks and grab......No, that's not appropriate. CARPE OMNIA!! And never turn loose

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