Yes, you need to read "Back to Kansas" first, that's why this is an addendum
It's real short. I'm slipping a bit. I can't seem to get the energy level I once had and I exhaust a lot faster than I used to. Some times it's harder to get up. Other times I get hit with stabbing pain I'm not so sure is all muscle pain where it shows up. I feel swollen from the inside out, and my voice continues it's path down gravel lane until it has just stop working. I've got to will this stuff down for one last trip to Fort Worth next month for the Women's Team Challenge and Celtober Fest event. It's a day of throwing and companionship. Pretty much like every Highland Game I go to play. I'll get a chance, I hope, to see some of my friends in the Metroplex. And that, girls and boys, will be my last trip on this side of the grass.
Love ya
Monday, September 30, 2013
Back from Kansas
Last Thursday afternoon we headed toward Kansas for my last trip up that direction. I find I don't travel well any more. I get tired quickly and begin to hurt even faster. But, that's all okay because I was headed up to see my sister and as many people as I could before I get to the point I can't travel at all. Kate and I had a good visit, and laughed a lot. My little brother was out of town on a job interview I hope he gets. Jack Sherer, sorry I couldn't catch up with you. I was completely beaten both times we went through. There are a lot of people I would have liked to have gotten in touch with.
Spent some real quality time with Andrea and Jim Scarpelli. Old friends from way back when. The problem is, I never have enough time, and damn sure don't now. It's tough.
The entire trip was so I could attend the McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games. It's one of my favorite, and it was my next to last game I competed in last year, and my next to last I'll attend this year. I wanted to go up there too, so I could catch up with a few of my friends in Kansas. The sad thing is, I saw them, but I couldn't spend time like I wanted to with each of them. I'd sit for a minute, then my eyes would start to leak, and I'd have to get up and move around. I'm a big sissy. Even with the social networks, text messages, and every other form of communication, it's the last time I'll be able to touch a hand, give a hug, or slap knees laughing with those folks. On one hand I was so excited when they started to walk up, and on the other it was like a little bit of crushing my heart. It might even have been different if I could speak well enough to truly say what I felt. It's not the same to me writing down what I want to say, it seemed awfully cold to me to have to write and leave it on paper. I can't add the feelings in that I can if I can talk with each person. I spoke with my in laws, and I hope that bridge got fixed a bit. I'd hate to go out thinking I was such a stubborn ass I couldn't bring myself to reconcile just a bit with my father in law. It was also a time to reconnect with my other family. The athletes of the Highland Games.
I spent a lot of time up and down and running from one end of the field to another for handshakes, hugs and claps on the back. I know a lot of the folks, but this year the field was huge and a lot of new faces I didn't recognize. That's great, too. They need some new faces on the field. It's a great sport filled to the brim with great people. I got to explain, in writing of course, how the events work and how difficult they are to some of the folks that came to visit. And again, I'm sorry I couldn't spend more time with you, it just was too much at times for the old man to handle. So, I'm watching, and Liz is visiting with friends and all seems well with the world. I wrote a short thank you note to the field of athletes and the crowd. Mac has been a part of me for the last 10 years, and this is the first and last year I won't be able to compete. The note went something like this:
"This is my last trip to Kansas, I've been diagnosed as terminal. This festival and games are one of my favorite, not just because I get the chance to get back to my old stomping grounds and see some of my home state, but also because of the people here. It's always been a great place to come throw. The athletes are great, the AD's are wonderful and the weather has always cooperated.
So, I'd like to thank Dave and Gunnar Glasgow, and Larry and Terri Ventress for putting on a great games. I'd like to thank the Athletes who make this a fun place to come compete. You've always been helpful and are super and what we do, thanks. And to the audience, with out the cheering and applause the games wouldn't be near as fun. Thank all of you"
That's not it exactly, but it's close. Francis Brebner, a World Champion athlete and the announcer couldn't make it through the entire thing, Dave Glasgow finished for him. I cheated, I said I needed something out of the car and I walked. I don't think I could have handled it myself. I believe there were a lot of leaking eyes, from what I hear anyway.
As the day went on I got to see and speak with a lot of folks, which was the crux of the trip to begin with. I don't think everyone will ever know how much that meant to me. They travelled some to be there and spend a few minutes of time with me. That's humbling and an honor, and I was thrilled. Even if I tried not to show it. You know, Joe Cool and all. After the games on Saturday I got to spend time with my brother in law Carl and his wife Janice and family. They are nice folks. Nephew Josh is pretty cool and his girlfriend is just a peach. She's a real sweet heart. One of the athletes rented us a room out of his ass pocket, something I wasn't expecting, but was very thankful I got the room. Andy Stout, you're a peach, brother. We sat and took up space in Freddy's Frozen Yogurt and Steakburger place for a couple of hours. Once again, not enough time. I was flat exhausted. Still, it took a while to fall asleep. Weird how that works isn't it? So hard to stay awake, lie down and wide awake. Weird.
Sunday rolls around and Liz and I eat a bit and go to the field again, just so I could see some of the Master's division athletes, and say goodbye to anyone I missed the day before. Liz went shopping and I watched the guys throw, all the while wishing I could be out there as well, laughing and throwing heavy shit through the air. (Sigh) it was not to be on that day. I have to back up a bit. I did pitch the sheaf twice on Saturday, much to the anger of my back, shoulders and neck. Oh man, that felt great.
Let us then summarize. I saw Terri Ventress break two of her own World Record marks. And she can probably break weight over bar by the end of the throwing season. She's not only and wonderful athlete, but along with her husband, great friends. As I was leaving Sunday, Dave Glasgow got the mike from Francis. "I need to stop the games for just a minute. Rocky Smith is leaving. He's been coming here for 10 years and this will be his last time to leave the field. Let's cheer him out."
Thanks Dave, you made my eyes leak. But then again, so did Larry Ventress and a couple of other people on my way out. Great folks. I've been telling people that about the Highland Games for 10 years. It's not just the competition, it's the people associated with the Games that make them special.
I'm going to miss each and every one of you. It was an emotionally trying time for me, but I'd do it again tomorrow if they asked me.
Have fun today, be out there doing what you love to do. If you don't love it, find something you will. Life's too damn short to spend it wishing you'd down something else with you life. No excuses, hut get it going your direction
Spent some real quality time with Andrea and Jim Scarpelli. Old friends from way back when. The problem is, I never have enough time, and damn sure don't now. It's tough.
The entire trip was so I could attend the McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games. It's one of my favorite, and it was my next to last game I competed in last year, and my next to last I'll attend this year. I wanted to go up there too, so I could catch up with a few of my friends in Kansas. The sad thing is, I saw them, but I couldn't spend time like I wanted to with each of them. I'd sit for a minute, then my eyes would start to leak, and I'd have to get up and move around. I'm a big sissy. Even with the social networks, text messages, and every other form of communication, it's the last time I'll be able to touch a hand, give a hug, or slap knees laughing with those folks. On one hand I was so excited when they started to walk up, and on the other it was like a little bit of crushing my heart. It might even have been different if I could speak well enough to truly say what I felt. It's not the same to me writing down what I want to say, it seemed awfully cold to me to have to write and leave it on paper. I can't add the feelings in that I can if I can talk with each person. I spoke with my in laws, and I hope that bridge got fixed a bit. I'd hate to go out thinking I was such a stubborn ass I couldn't bring myself to reconcile just a bit with my father in law. It was also a time to reconnect with my other family. The athletes of the Highland Games.
I spent a lot of time up and down and running from one end of the field to another for handshakes, hugs and claps on the back. I know a lot of the folks, but this year the field was huge and a lot of new faces I didn't recognize. That's great, too. They need some new faces on the field. It's a great sport filled to the brim with great people. I got to explain, in writing of course, how the events work and how difficult they are to some of the folks that came to visit. And again, I'm sorry I couldn't spend more time with you, it just was too much at times for the old man to handle. So, I'm watching, and Liz is visiting with friends and all seems well with the world. I wrote a short thank you note to the field of athletes and the crowd. Mac has been a part of me for the last 10 years, and this is the first and last year I won't be able to compete. The note went something like this:
"This is my last trip to Kansas, I've been diagnosed as terminal. This festival and games are one of my favorite, not just because I get the chance to get back to my old stomping grounds and see some of my home state, but also because of the people here. It's always been a great place to come throw. The athletes are great, the AD's are wonderful and the weather has always cooperated.
So, I'd like to thank Dave and Gunnar Glasgow, and Larry and Terri Ventress for putting on a great games. I'd like to thank the Athletes who make this a fun place to come compete. You've always been helpful and are super and what we do, thanks. And to the audience, with out the cheering and applause the games wouldn't be near as fun. Thank all of you"
That's not it exactly, but it's close. Francis Brebner, a World Champion athlete and the announcer couldn't make it through the entire thing, Dave Glasgow finished for him. I cheated, I said I needed something out of the car and I walked. I don't think I could have handled it myself. I believe there were a lot of leaking eyes, from what I hear anyway.
As the day went on I got to see and speak with a lot of folks, which was the crux of the trip to begin with. I don't think everyone will ever know how much that meant to me. They travelled some to be there and spend a few minutes of time with me. That's humbling and an honor, and I was thrilled. Even if I tried not to show it. You know, Joe Cool and all. After the games on Saturday I got to spend time with my brother in law Carl and his wife Janice and family. They are nice folks. Nephew Josh is pretty cool and his girlfriend is just a peach. She's a real sweet heart. One of the athletes rented us a room out of his ass pocket, something I wasn't expecting, but was very thankful I got the room. Andy Stout, you're a peach, brother. We sat and took up space in Freddy's Frozen Yogurt and Steakburger place for a couple of hours. Once again, not enough time. I was flat exhausted. Still, it took a while to fall asleep. Weird how that works isn't it? So hard to stay awake, lie down and wide awake. Weird.
Sunday rolls around and Liz and I eat a bit and go to the field again, just so I could see some of the Master's division athletes, and say goodbye to anyone I missed the day before. Liz went shopping and I watched the guys throw, all the while wishing I could be out there as well, laughing and throwing heavy shit through the air. (Sigh) it was not to be on that day. I have to back up a bit. I did pitch the sheaf twice on Saturday, much to the anger of my back, shoulders and neck. Oh man, that felt great.
Let us then summarize. I saw Terri Ventress break two of her own World Record marks. And she can probably break weight over bar by the end of the throwing season. She's not only and wonderful athlete, but along with her husband, great friends. As I was leaving Sunday, Dave Glasgow got the mike from Francis. "I need to stop the games for just a minute. Rocky Smith is leaving. He's been coming here for 10 years and this will be his last time to leave the field. Let's cheer him out."
Thanks Dave, you made my eyes leak. But then again, so did Larry Ventress and a couple of other people on my way out. Great folks. I've been telling people that about the Highland Games for 10 years. It's not just the competition, it's the people associated with the Games that make them special.
I'm going to miss each and every one of you. It was an emotionally trying time for me, but I'd do it again tomorrow if they asked me.
Have fun today, be out there doing what you love to do. If you don't love it, find something you will. Life's too damn short to spend it wishing you'd down something else with you life. No excuses, hut get it going your direction
Thursday, September 26, 2013
So I skipped yesterday
I skipped a post yesterday, mostly because I didn't do anything special or nothing was going on the day before that was worthy. Other than I slept six straight hours. That's a good thing. Not so lucky this morning. About four and I was awakened with some real mucus issues. I hate those. I also suspect they are only going to get worse as time wears on.
So, anyway, I'm up yesterday and feeling pretty good. It's a nice thing to feel good enough to go for a walk and not have it stop short. I made my mile. Not much, but it's a bit of an accomplishment. And it's good for me to get out and about. Most of the stuff I take makes me a little sun sensitive. I also can't wait for a cop to stop me at 5 AM and ask what I'm doing out. I can't speak well, and I'm sure as hell not taking along a note book, since I'm already carting along the portable suction. I'll sound like some Wookie, and have to fish out my license. They've stopped me before at 4 AM for dumping my trash out of my truck into the dumpster. "We are looking for a thief". Yes, because a thief always drives a vehicle with a company name plastered on both doors and the tail gate, and hangs out near dumpsters in a lit alleyway. Of course, how foolish of me. It's also nice because I feel well enough to kind of mess with the daughter when she is working. She's easy to sneak up on, and she jumps well. A lot of time I don't feel like getting up and doing anything, let alone torment my kid.
I cooked too. I like to cook. It's relaxing for me, and the kids almost always like what I fix. Almost. I'm cooking away the other day, using some baby spinach in a couple of things, and it dawned on me how well I like the smell and taste of fresh spinach over that canned crap. I even remarked to my wife why we didn't cook more with the baby spinach when I was well enough to eat. Neither one of us had a good answer. We have some apples. And they were starting to get a little soft. I hated a soft apple when I was healthy, so it bugs me that they were going soft and probably would get thrown out. So I fried a few up, added a little brown sugar, and as that started to cook down, added a little whiskey and lit it up. Flambe' is cool looking, so cool in fact that I had the youngest daughter torch it for me. All that cooked down and made a nice glaze. That was Tuesday night. I made another batch Wednesday morning and had the oldest light the whiskey. It's fun to watch the unsuspecting light up a pan. The little jump and big eyes are fun. We decided that it would go great on ice cream while the apples and glaze were still warm. Later in the day I used some "dog house" potatoes that were left over and made a nice potato soup for the wife and kid. Not much of that left over either. I've been asked if smelling the food cook is torture. No, it's not. In fact it's one of the few things I still get a lot of pleasure out of being around. It's the aroma, and watching people enjoy a good meal. It's a comforting memory. I can't remember a damn thing we talked about on January 21, 2013, but I remember everything I ate and drank. It's odd, yet kind of neat. I've not had anything solid to eat since January 22, 2013. I miss a good snack and meal.
Today I'm getting ready for Liz and I to head to McPherson, Ks. for the Scottish Festival and Highland Games. This is the next to last game I threw in, and will be the next to last games I attend. It's one of three games I didn't miss even when I was injured. I'd volunteer to help. There's a lot of fun to be had there. Mac is a good venue, it's a big crowd for the size of the town, and they really get into the cheering and yelling for the athletes. That's nice, and it's fun to be around. I'm writing a little something today and I'm going to see if they'll let the announcer read it for me at lunch while the guys and girls are on break. Just a little something to express my gratitude and feelings about being able to spend my time with all the folks there. I'm going to see my sister as well. My brother is off at a job interview that I hope he nails down. We are going to scrounge up some pics of me for the memorial and viewing. That should be good for a few laughs. Always was when I was healthy, should be more so now. These are a series of last things to do, before I move on and see what new things there are to do on the next plane of existence. That should be a huge adventure. Not that I'm really wanting to rush into that, but only that it's going to be an extension of me, just in another form. I'm hoping the trip doesn't wear me completely out. I've only got one more, and then it's pretty much ride it out being a homebody
I got an unexpected and truly welcome text yesterday. It seems a buddy of mine from the Highland Games is in town doing some business and wanted to catch up for a couple of hours. Kyle Fuller, he's good people, and better company. He's just good to hang out with. It had to write a lot, since I'm harder to understand now than I was two weeks ago even and at that I wasn't easy to understand. So we chatted it up for about 2 hours. It's just nice to be able to see some of the folks I like and don't get to see often. Kyle and I were in Houston the same time last January and had a nice visit and meal one evening. Those are things I'll look back upon and really be able to say "Damn, that was a good day". It gets added into the long long list of good days. Even my worst day has some good in it somewhere. I like the little things like just sitting and having a visit over a lot of really complicated things. Simple is always much better
So, today let's all find something we didn't know about, and learn something about it. Kyle mentioned taking odd routes to different highland games. Finding small towns and stuff, and reading up a little bit on them. I've done that as well. It's fun, and nothing is wrong with wanting to grow your mind a little bit. It will steel it up for any hard times that one might run into later. As my Great Granny Wilson used to say "An idle mind is the devil's playground".
Have fun this weekend. I'll try and keep up with all the goings on
So, anyway, I'm up yesterday and feeling pretty good. It's a nice thing to feel good enough to go for a walk and not have it stop short. I made my mile. Not much, but it's a bit of an accomplishment. And it's good for me to get out and about. Most of the stuff I take makes me a little sun sensitive. I also can't wait for a cop to stop me at 5 AM and ask what I'm doing out. I can't speak well, and I'm sure as hell not taking along a note book, since I'm already carting along the portable suction. I'll sound like some Wookie, and have to fish out my license. They've stopped me before at 4 AM for dumping my trash out of my truck into the dumpster. "We are looking for a thief". Yes, because a thief always drives a vehicle with a company name plastered on both doors and the tail gate, and hangs out near dumpsters in a lit alleyway. Of course, how foolish of me. It's also nice because I feel well enough to kind of mess with the daughter when she is working. She's easy to sneak up on, and she jumps well. A lot of time I don't feel like getting up and doing anything, let alone torment my kid.
I cooked too. I like to cook. It's relaxing for me, and the kids almost always like what I fix. Almost. I'm cooking away the other day, using some baby spinach in a couple of things, and it dawned on me how well I like the smell and taste of fresh spinach over that canned crap. I even remarked to my wife why we didn't cook more with the baby spinach when I was well enough to eat. Neither one of us had a good answer. We have some apples. And they were starting to get a little soft. I hated a soft apple when I was healthy, so it bugs me that they were going soft and probably would get thrown out. So I fried a few up, added a little brown sugar, and as that started to cook down, added a little whiskey and lit it up. Flambe' is cool looking, so cool in fact that I had the youngest daughter torch it for me. All that cooked down and made a nice glaze. That was Tuesday night. I made another batch Wednesday morning and had the oldest light the whiskey. It's fun to watch the unsuspecting light up a pan. The little jump and big eyes are fun. We decided that it would go great on ice cream while the apples and glaze were still warm. Later in the day I used some "dog house" potatoes that were left over and made a nice potato soup for the wife and kid. Not much of that left over either. I've been asked if smelling the food cook is torture. No, it's not. In fact it's one of the few things I still get a lot of pleasure out of being around. It's the aroma, and watching people enjoy a good meal. It's a comforting memory. I can't remember a damn thing we talked about on January 21, 2013, but I remember everything I ate and drank. It's odd, yet kind of neat. I've not had anything solid to eat since January 22, 2013. I miss a good snack and meal.
Today I'm getting ready for Liz and I to head to McPherson, Ks. for the Scottish Festival and Highland Games. This is the next to last game I threw in, and will be the next to last games I attend. It's one of three games I didn't miss even when I was injured. I'd volunteer to help. There's a lot of fun to be had there. Mac is a good venue, it's a big crowd for the size of the town, and they really get into the cheering and yelling for the athletes. That's nice, and it's fun to be around. I'm writing a little something today and I'm going to see if they'll let the announcer read it for me at lunch while the guys and girls are on break. Just a little something to express my gratitude and feelings about being able to spend my time with all the folks there. I'm going to see my sister as well. My brother is off at a job interview that I hope he nails down. We are going to scrounge up some pics of me for the memorial and viewing. That should be good for a few laughs. Always was when I was healthy, should be more so now. These are a series of last things to do, before I move on and see what new things there are to do on the next plane of existence. That should be a huge adventure. Not that I'm really wanting to rush into that, but only that it's going to be an extension of me, just in another form. I'm hoping the trip doesn't wear me completely out. I've only got one more, and then it's pretty much ride it out being a homebody
I got an unexpected and truly welcome text yesterday. It seems a buddy of mine from the Highland Games is in town doing some business and wanted to catch up for a couple of hours. Kyle Fuller, he's good people, and better company. He's just good to hang out with. It had to write a lot, since I'm harder to understand now than I was two weeks ago even and at that I wasn't easy to understand. So we chatted it up for about 2 hours. It's just nice to be able to see some of the folks I like and don't get to see often. Kyle and I were in Houston the same time last January and had a nice visit and meal one evening. Those are things I'll look back upon and really be able to say "Damn, that was a good day". It gets added into the long long list of good days. Even my worst day has some good in it somewhere. I like the little things like just sitting and having a visit over a lot of really complicated things. Simple is always much better
So, today let's all find something we didn't know about, and learn something about it. Kyle mentioned taking odd routes to different highland games. Finding small towns and stuff, and reading up a little bit on them. I've done that as well. It's fun, and nothing is wrong with wanting to grow your mind a little bit. It will steel it up for any hard times that one might run into later. As my Great Granny Wilson used to say "An idle mind is the devil's playground".
Have fun this weekend. I'll try and keep up with all the goings on
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Up and at em Atom...yeah, what ever
Sleep eluded me last night. Mental note to self. Until it becomes absolutely necessary, no napping in the afternoon, regardless of how badly you feel. Sleep at night, play during the day. Back in the old days, it was sleep a little at night, play during the day and night both. Wow, that's been a long time ago since I've been able to do that. My how the mighty have fallen! HA!
Interesting day yesterday. I woke up, did the morning constitutional, went for a walk and came home. Wow, did I mention stomach cramps started about 5 minutes after I sat down? No? Why yes they did. I am not certain what it was. Theories range from "OOOOO! That aloe water is a cleanser! I shoulda put a warning label on that!" to my favorite"Who the hell knows why?". I learned a new version of the Green Apple Quick Step. So it wasn't an entire loss. But it did wear me clear out. Hence the big nap at 2 PM. And why I'm still awake now. Go figgar.
We were setting around talking about insurance last night. My wife's hospital will no longer carry spouses on their insurance. Obamacare has seen to that with the increase in expense. She's checking on dependents. Some win for the entire nation, and I told people it was going to be a load of shit from the get go. So much for getting what you wish for, right kids? Anyway, I digress. We were talking about that and I flippantly said "I need to be dead by then". Stares of total disbelief, and shock. Sarah says "But we don't want you to die". Strangely enough, me either, but that's not reality. So, my six year old grandson chimes in with "When your dad dies, that's it, game over". I, of course, cracked up. I mean, physically he's correct. And for all the speculation, I don't think anyone knows for sure about the after life. I have promised, if I'm able, to at least let some folks know what goes on and how it is. If I ask for hot dogs and sticks, because we roast down here, it wasn't as I had planned. And THAT should stir some folks up. And to them I would say, "Relax, have a good time. When the time comes that we can't kid about ourselves, it's time to hang it up anyway."
Later I asked him if I could come back and hang out for a while. He read that and looked at me all serious, "No. Because when you're dead, you don't want to do anything anyway". That made a lot of sense. And as my friend Barry said on FaceBook "Heck, I don't want to do anything and I'm still kicking!". To that I can relate as well. I think we all sweat what's coming because we simply aren't certain of what's next. What if it's truly the big nothing? What if there really is hell? And more frightening I think...What if we are really judged? Some folks will claim they know, but that's more a hope, I believe. So, I'm going to let the young man, when he's old enough to understand, decide what he believes. This, BTW, is not open for debate. Everyone is allowed to believe what they wish around me, and I don't criticize or ask for any explanation from them. So today, this topic is closed as of this sentence. Sorry, gang, but it got damn ugly last time, and I won't stand for anymore of that from any person.
Why some people are so fearful of death is beyond me. It's the tail end of life. Anyone born is going to die at some point or another. And I find that the kids are generally the most accepting of that. Is it because they haven't seen it closely enough? Maybe that is it. Kids have pets die though, while it's sad, I think they also see that life didn't stop, that it goes on. So, being the adaptable little devils they are, they just move on and keep going forward. More adults should do that. I will, however, make exception with the death of a child. I don't think that's something I could handle well. And I thank my lucky stars that I never did have to deal with it. For my friends who have, God bless you, you're strong people. We are all getting older. In another 10-15 years we are all going to see a big increase in the number of people we know who are going to pass on to the next big adventure. We should all be bracing ourselves for that, because it's as inevitable as the rising of the sun. And how we treat death, says much about how we live, I think. I figure we should grieve for ourselves, which we do I think. We should also celebrate the life of the departed. How? By being better than the person the wanted up to be. Live our lives, not just get by with material things, but really live it. Get the wind in your hair, eat something you never have tried (for me, chocolate grasshoppers just didn't cut it. Calf fries, on the other hand, done correctly, are damn hard to turn down). If you're not happy with your lot in life, change it. If it's a money thing, find something that pays more. If it's something you love doing, money shouldn't be that big an issue, should it?
I would have sworn, yesterday, that things really are moving along faster than I, or the doctors, expected. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, I'm sleep deprived, sure. But that I can fix. I still feel weird, but all over weird, not just centralized weird. That may mean some kind of bug. Who knows? This I do know, I don't have the stamina, or energy I did a month ago. I can feel it in my legs. They get rubbery way too fast. And that makes me tired. Very tired.
Okay, this is my last trip to Kansas. There won't be anymore any time, any place. Unless I go in an urn. That being said, the "Last Meet And Greet of Rock's Life" will be at the Lake Park in McPherson Kansas, Saturday September 28 during The McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games. I've got to write a little something for the AD's, athletes, and crowd for these guys. I would have for Arlington, but I had high hopes of surviving when I was at those.
It'll be a tough one to write. I'm gonna miss everyone there.
So, as I work on getting myself ready for what I swore I wouldn't do, nap during the day, here are your marching orders.
Book of Rock, Chapter 45, verse 135. "Throw down or sit down, I'm tired of your mouth". That's how you should treat your life. It's a struggle sometimes, don't let it scare you into setting down.
Interesting day yesterday. I woke up, did the morning constitutional, went for a walk and came home. Wow, did I mention stomach cramps started about 5 minutes after I sat down? No? Why yes they did. I am not certain what it was. Theories range from "OOOOO! That aloe water is a cleanser! I shoulda put a warning label on that!" to my favorite"Who the hell knows why?". I learned a new version of the Green Apple Quick Step. So it wasn't an entire loss. But it did wear me clear out. Hence the big nap at 2 PM. And why I'm still awake now. Go figgar.
We were setting around talking about insurance last night. My wife's hospital will no longer carry spouses on their insurance. Obamacare has seen to that with the increase in expense. She's checking on dependents. Some win for the entire nation, and I told people it was going to be a load of shit from the get go. So much for getting what you wish for, right kids? Anyway, I digress. We were talking about that and I flippantly said "I need to be dead by then". Stares of total disbelief, and shock. Sarah says "But we don't want you to die". Strangely enough, me either, but that's not reality. So, my six year old grandson chimes in with "When your dad dies, that's it, game over". I, of course, cracked up. I mean, physically he's correct. And for all the speculation, I don't think anyone knows for sure about the after life. I have promised, if I'm able, to at least let some folks know what goes on and how it is. If I ask for hot dogs and sticks, because we roast down here, it wasn't as I had planned. And THAT should stir some folks up. And to them I would say, "Relax, have a good time. When the time comes that we can't kid about ourselves, it's time to hang it up anyway."
Later I asked him if I could come back and hang out for a while. He read that and looked at me all serious, "No. Because when you're dead, you don't want to do anything anyway". That made a lot of sense. And as my friend Barry said on FaceBook "Heck, I don't want to do anything and I'm still kicking!". To that I can relate as well. I think we all sweat what's coming because we simply aren't certain of what's next. What if it's truly the big nothing? What if there really is hell? And more frightening I think...What if we are really judged? Some folks will claim they know, but that's more a hope, I believe. So, I'm going to let the young man, when he's old enough to understand, decide what he believes. This, BTW, is not open for debate. Everyone is allowed to believe what they wish around me, and I don't criticize or ask for any explanation from them. So today, this topic is closed as of this sentence. Sorry, gang, but it got damn ugly last time, and I won't stand for anymore of that from any person.
Why some people are so fearful of death is beyond me. It's the tail end of life. Anyone born is going to die at some point or another. And I find that the kids are generally the most accepting of that. Is it because they haven't seen it closely enough? Maybe that is it. Kids have pets die though, while it's sad, I think they also see that life didn't stop, that it goes on. So, being the adaptable little devils they are, they just move on and keep going forward. More adults should do that. I will, however, make exception with the death of a child. I don't think that's something I could handle well. And I thank my lucky stars that I never did have to deal with it. For my friends who have, God bless you, you're strong people. We are all getting older. In another 10-15 years we are all going to see a big increase in the number of people we know who are going to pass on to the next big adventure. We should all be bracing ourselves for that, because it's as inevitable as the rising of the sun. And how we treat death, says much about how we live, I think. I figure we should grieve for ourselves, which we do I think. We should also celebrate the life of the departed. How? By being better than the person the wanted up to be. Live our lives, not just get by with material things, but really live it. Get the wind in your hair, eat something you never have tried (for me, chocolate grasshoppers just didn't cut it. Calf fries, on the other hand, done correctly, are damn hard to turn down). If you're not happy with your lot in life, change it. If it's a money thing, find something that pays more. If it's something you love doing, money shouldn't be that big an issue, should it?
I would have sworn, yesterday, that things really are moving along faster than I, or the doctors, expected. Now I'm not so sure. I mean, I'm sleep deprived, sure. But that I can fix. I still feel weird, but all over weird, not just centralized weird. That may mean some kind of bug. Who knows? This I do know, I don't have the stamina, or energy I did a month ago. I can feel it in my legs. They get rubbery way too fast. And that makes me tired. Very tired.
Okay, this is my last trip to Kansas. There won't be anymore any time, any place. Unless I go in an urn. That being said, the "Last Meet And Greet of Rock's Life" will be at the Lake Park in McPherson Kansas, Saturday September 28 during The McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games. I've got to write a little something for the AD's, athletes, and crowd for these guys. I would have for Arlington, but I had high hopes of surviving when I was at those.
It'll be a tough one to write. I'm gonna miss everyone there.
So, as I work on getting myself ready for what I swore I wouldn't do, nap during the day, here are your marching orders.
Book of Rock, Chapter 45, verse 135. "Throw down or sit down, I'm tired of your mouth". That's how you should treat your life. It's a struggle sometimes, don't let it scare you into setting down.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Catch up
So, I skip a day here and there, yesterday was no exception. I was sore, muscle wise, and it seemed clear into my bones sore and tired. So I sat on my butt, feed, did the med thing, took more of the "break through pain" med than I have for a few days, and played a video game. I really wasn't up to anything but sit. I did make The Lovely breakfast, and I may fix supper tonight. I've got some things I need to use before they go bad. It's even getting to be a pain in the ass to cook. Gotta have extra's with me just so I can stand and do the cooking thing for any length of time.
Saturday was great. Pretty weather to start. Felt pretty decent. Gave the Lovely a smooch. Then went to watch the Hospital softball team play. Lovely is on the team, but doesn't play. She sacrificed a shoulder and both calves to the game, that seemed to be enough for her. They wore the jersey's that one of the co-workers designed and printed. Fluorescent Green with boxing gloves and "Rock's Team, We're all in Rocky's corner" on the front. Pretty cool. No, very fucking cool, actually. A show of support for Lovely and me. Not that others haven't been doing that too, this was nearly her entire department behind this little event. That's a lot of folks. And they support not only me, but Lovely. She needs support too. Everyone's wife/husband/shack up/love of their life needs support when one of the people they love is dying. I wrote them a nice from the heart note that ended "Dying sucks, but it's a lot easier if you get a cool shirt out of the deal". That's not all I wrote. I let them know how they had left me speechless, and how my normally over confident self was left feeling pretty damn humble. I had a good time. Watching the everyone play, visiting with Lovely's boss. That takes a lot of writing. Lovely can't get much of what I say now, unless I swear. So everyone else can catch less than she does, except for when I swear. Some people get really upset with swearing. I only get upset if it's not used in proper context, and somewhat creatively. I did have to have some extra pain killer during the day, but not like I thought I might. That evening, however, was a different story.
The trip to Kansas this weekend is going to be tougher than I thought it would be just over a month ago. I tire pretty quickly, and I need a place I can lean back a bit and take the pressure off my neck and shoulders. That's pretty easy when we drive. We can share that, and I can rest a bit at a time. Won't work that way on the field. I'll have to find a shady tree out of range of the long throwers and beg a place to stretch out on my backpack. I've done it before and can do it again. It's important to me to go, although some people have doubted my resolve the last week or so. This is going to be my last time up there. I like the state, just can't make the same money up there that I can here. Texas has been very good to me. I'm glad I learned to live with the seasons, unlike the guys here that freeze to death, or shut down in the wind. Certainly a different oil field that when I started, and in most cases that's a good thing. It's the last time I'll see old friends from my youth (I hope several can make it) and the newer friends I've made in the last ten years being a mediocre athlete. All of them are like extended family. I'm giving away my sheaf fork as well. It's really old and was given to me by a great guy and damn fine athlete. It deserves to go be used, and not just set in my garage. If they'll let me, I'm going to have the announcer at the McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games read a little something for the athletes and the AD's. They deserve a little shout out, because I say they do. This trip, and one more will be it for me. Going to the Celtober Women's Team Challenge, and Celtober Throw Down in Fort Worth are going to be my last two trips that far away. I have the feeling that's all I'm going to want as far as travel goes. The last trip to Houston wore my ass out, and that was almost 2 months ago. These may well lay me up for a couple of weeks. They'll be worth it, though
I was hoping that being tired quickly would come along much later than it has, and now I'm having to work around that, instead of just barreling through like I normally would. It seems to take more time to get back to feeling half human than it did. I'm going for a walk as soon as this is finished, and catch some of that early morning air. That rejuvenates me better than a lot of things. It wears me out, but it's the good kind. At least it's muscle weary instead of just fried because I don't have the energy I once did. So, this is going to be a short blog.
Ya'll have fun and do something I wanna do
Saturday was great. Pretty weather to start. Felt pretty decent. Gave the Lovely a smooch. Then went to watch the Hospital softball team play. Lovely is on the team, but doesn't play. She sacrificed a shoulder and both calves to the game, that seemed to be enough for her. They wore the jersey's that one of the co-workers designed and printed. Fluorescent Green with boxing gloves and "Rock's Team, We're all in Rocky's corner" on the front. Pretty cool. No, very fucking cool, actually. A show of support for Lovely and me. Not that others haven't been doing that too, this was nearly her entire department behind this little event. That's a lot of folks. And they support not only me, but Lovely. She needs support too. Everyone's wife/husband/shack up/love of their life needs support when one of the people they love is dying. I wrote them a nice from the heart note that ended "Dying sucks, but it's a lot easier if you get a cool shirt out of the deal". That's not all I wrote. I let them know how they had left me speechless, and how my normally over confident self was left feeling pretty damn humble. I had a good time. Watching the everyone play, visiting with Lovely's boss. That takes a lot of writing. Lovely can't get much of what I say now, unless I swear. So everyone else can catch less than she does, except for when I swear. Some people get really upset with swearing. I only get upset if it's not used in proper context, and somewhat creatively. I did have to have some extra pain killer during the day, but not like I thought I might. That evening, however, was a different story.
The trip to Kansas this weekend is going to be tougher than I thought it would be just over a month ago. I tire pretty quickly, and I need a place I can lean back a bit and take the pressure off my neck and shoulders. That's pretty easy when we drive. We can share that, and I can rest a bit at a time. Won't work that way on the field. I'll have to find a shady tree out of range of the long throwers and beg a place to stretch out on my backpack. I've done it before and can do it again. It's important to me to go, although some people have doubted my resolve the last week or so. This is going to be my last time up there. I like the state, just can't make the same money up there that I can here. Texas has been very good to me. I'm glad I learned to live with the seasons, unlike the guys here that freeze to death, or shut down in the wind. Certainly a different oil field that when I started, and in most cases that's a good thing. It's the last time I'll see old friends from my youth (I hope several can make it) and the newer friends I've made in the last ten years being a mediocre athlete. All of them are like extended family. I'm giving away my sheaf fork as well. It's really old and was given to me by a great guy and damn fine athlete. It deserves to go be used, and not just set in my garage. If they'll let me, I'm going to have the announcer at the McPherson Scottish Festival and Highland Games read a little something for the athletes and the AD's. They deserve a little shout out, because I say they do. This trip, and one more will be it for me. Going to the Celtober Women's Team Challenge, and Celtober Throw Down in Fort Worth are going to be my last two trips that far away. I have the feeling that's all I'm going to want as far as travel goes. The last trip to Houston wore my ass out, and that was almost 2 months ago. These may well lay me up for a couple of weeks. They'll be worth it, though
I was hoping that being tired quickly would come along much later than it has, and now I'm having to work around that, instead of just barreling through like I normally would. It seems to take more time to get back to feeling half human than it did. I'm going for a walk as soon as this is finished, and catch some of that early morning air. That rejuvenates me better than a lot of things. It wears me out, but it's the good kind. At least it's muscle weary instead of just fried because I don't have the energy I once did. So, this is going to be a short blog.
Ya'll have fun and do something I wanna do
Saturday, September 21, 2013
I feel like shit
This has been a rough week. Physically and mentally both. I've ached all over, but not had a virus. We got my pain med upped so that's helped a lot in that regard. I've been bleeding a little, but more often, but that's expected. Doesn't make it anymore pleasant. It's difficult to stay ahead of fluid I'm retaining in my neck, face, and shoulders. It's moving down my back and side as well. It's a bit uncomfortable. I've thrown up some. Nothing pleasant about that. Sleep is hit or miss. I'm either not asleep until 0200 or 0300 and up at 0630, or I'm asleep at 2100 and up at 0330. Weird stuff. It's hard to get adjusted since everything seems out of whack. I've dumped a long time buddy, because I got tired of his shit of running down my home state, what I did for athletics, my job, and a herd of other things. He's really a compassionate guy, and normally I overlooked all that shit. Finally just had enough. Too bad as well. I suppose I could go say "Ya know, I get it, just watch what you say", but that would violate my word I gave him. No way I'm doin that. And I'm not a good enough person to forgive and turn the other cheek. Regardless of what y'all think, I know how to live by the feud. I'm good at it when I have to be as well.
I also pissed off a couple of people. It's a shortfall of being open and honest. So, what I will most likely do, is go back to keeping my mouth fucking shut. I'm pretty good at that as well.
I'm a middle kid. I did pretty much as I damn well pleased even when I was little, because I got ignored. Not on the big stuff, but in the every day things. My sister is nine years older, my brother is four younger. My first grade my sister was driving and my brother was still shitting his pants. See how easy it was to get looked over? The good thing is I learned to make do on my own. It's probably why asking for anything now chaps my ass. I learned to make my own fun, stand up for myself, and get along without anyone. I still like alone time. I'm used to it and it's being incredibly missed since last year when I got diagnosed again. I learned by watching. My sister tried to bullshit her way out of trouble. Saw that more than once. I learned that if you come right out and say (sometimes I didn't, but I was trying to cover someone else's ass from a fate worse than my own) that you fouled up it went a lot easier on the punishment phase. That holds true through adulthood. And it's not all that hard to do, owning up to your mistakes. I learned that shit ain't fair. My brother and I would be getting in trouble and he'd backtalk or sass mom. I'd jab him, and my ass would be in a jam and he'd skip off Scot free. Fair? Hell no, but that's how it was. So I'd smack him, get the extra punishment and go about my own rat killin. Some years back I mentioned that to my mom. We talked about it and hashed it out and it was fine. It's also why I try and take care of things on my own. I won't sue, I won't call the cops, I won't go to HR or the higher ups. It's how I do my thing. I don't have to rely on a third party that way. We either iron it out, or we don't. If we can't, well, you're on my shit list and I won't have a damn thing to to with you again. There's been a lot of talk of late about freedom of speech. A college in CA wouldn't let a student hand out Constitutions. They have "Free Speech Zones". Yes, that's a joke. Kansas University has a journalism Professor that ran his mouth on Twitter and is now on administrative leave. And it's rankled some folks that condemn that action but stand up for not allowing students to hand out Constitutions. I bring this up because being a middle kid taught me that it's fine to run your mouth, as long as you're willing to accept the consequences. That's the essence of free speech really, isn't it?
Since I can't hit the gym anymore to work out these bits of frustration for myself, I have this. I hope I'm not boring you to death with it.
This dying shit is for the birds. I'm not enjoying it one iota. I'm bored, I'm getting a bit weaker, I'm limited in what I can and can't do, and it's sucks chunks of fun out of every day. Don't get me wrong, I still have fun 99% of the time. But it's a drag. I discovered yesterday that I can't walk as far as I used to without getting winded. It's not that I have trouble breathing. I'm getting weaker. I hate being weaker. That's going to happen, though, I know and accept it. I don't have to like it, but I accept it. Fortunately I don't believe it's going to affect my mind or thought process. Man, that would really suck. It's difficult enough to lose most of my communication skills, but if I were to notice my mind going. Wow. I can't imagine that. I see now why alzheimer patients get mean. It's frustration. Somewhere in there they know, but can't figure out why they can't remember. That's enough for a good fist fight. Because it's frightening.
What will happen with me, as the cancer spreads, will be ugly, painful and a mess. I'll do my best to take care of myself, but there will come a time when I can't. I'm really gonna hate that. Relying on people sucks. A lot of older folks would back me up on that I'm sure. It's already, I believe, my lymph nodes, as I've mentioned before. I hate that my family is going to have to help me out. I've mentioned that and been chastised for it as well. HA!
Well, this has been a rambling sack of dog poo this morning. Maybe I should hold off posting until I've got my thoughts all squared away into some sense of order at least. Ya think?
To close (finally, right?)
BIG Shout Out to Midland Memorial Hospital Radiology department. They are wearing the t-shirts one of the guys designed and printed to support Liz and I while I'm croaking. Very cool t-shirt. When I sync my phone up to the lap top I'll add a picture of it here. So, thanks guys, you're a great group of people. I know Liz and I both really appreciate and love what you're doing. And for helping me make our last anniversary one I hope Liz remembers.
A hug and an adult beverage. Those are your marching orders for the day. Go live your damn bucket list, why wait?
I also pissed off a couple of people. It's a shortfall of being open and honest. So, what I will most likely do, is go back to keeping my mouth fucking shut. I'm pretty good at that as well.
I'm a middle kid. I did pretty much as I damn well pleased even when I was little, because I got ignored. Not on the big stuff, but in the every day things. My sister is nine years older, my brother is four younger. My first grade my sister was driving and my brother was still shitting his pants. See how easy it was to get looked over? The good thing is I learned to make do on my own. It's probably why asking for anything now chaps my ass. I learned to make my own fun, stand up for myself, and get along without anyone. I still like alone time. I'm used to it and it's being incredibly missed since last year when I got diagnosed again. I learned by watching. My sister tried to bullshit her way out of trouble. Saw that more than once. I learned that if you come right out and say (sometimes I didn't, but I was trying to cover someone else's ass from a fate worse than my own) that you fouled up it went a lot easier on the punishment phase. That holds true through adulthood. And it's not all that hard to do, owning up to your mistakes. I learned that shit ain't fair. My brother and I would be getting in trouble and he'd backtalk or sass mom. I'd jab him, and my ass would be in a jam and he'd skip off Scot free. Fair? Hell no, but that's how it was. So I'd smack him, get the extra punishment and go about my own rat killin. Some years back I mentioned that to my mom. We talked about it and hashed it out and it was fine. It's also why I try and take care of things on my own. I won't sue, I won't call the cops, I won't go to HR or the higher ups. It's how I do my thing. I don't have to rely on a third party that way. We either iron it out, or we don't. If we can't, well, you're on my shit list and I won't have a damn thing to to with you again. There's been a lot of talk of late about freedom of speech. A college in CA wouldn't let a student hand out Constitutions. They have "Free Speech Zones". Yes, that's a joke. Kansas University has a journalism Professor that ran his mouth on Twitter and is now on administrative leave. And it's rankled some folks that condemn that action but stand up for not allowing students to hand out Constitutions. I bring this up because being a middle kid taught me that it's fine to run your mouth, as long as you're willing to accept the consequences. That's the essence of free speech really, isn't it?
Since I can't hit the gym anymore to work out these bits of frustration for myself, I have this. I hope I'm not boring you to death with it.
This dying shit is for the birds. I'm not enjoying it one iota. I'm bored, I'm getting a bit weaker, I'm limited in what I can and can't do, and it's sucks chunks of fun out of every day. Don't get me wrong, I still have fun 99% of the time. But it's a drag. I discovered yesterday that I can't walk as far as I used to without getting winded. It's not that I have trouble breathing. I'm getting weaker. I hate being weaker. That's going to happen, though, I know and accept it. I don't have to like it, but I accept it. Fortunately I don't believe it's going to affect my mind or thought process. Man, that would really suck. It's difficult enough to lose most of my communication skills, but if I were to notice my mind going. Wow. I can't imagine that. I see now why alzheimer patients get mean. It's frustration. Somewhere in there they know, but can't figure out why they can't remember. That's enough for a good fist fight. Because it's frightening.
What will happen with me, as the cancer spreads, will be ugly, painful and a mess. I'll do my best to take care of myself, but there will come a time when I can't. I'm really gonna hate that. Relying on people sucks. A lot of older folks would back me up on that I'm sure. It's already, I believe, my lymph nodes, as I've mentioned before. I hate that my family is going to have to help me out. I've mentioned that and been chastised for it as well. HA!
Well, this has been a rambling sack of dog poo this morning. Maybe I should hold off posting until I've got my thoughts all squared away into some sense of order at least. Ya think?
To close (finally, right?)
BIG Shout Out to Midland Memorial Hospital Radiology department. They are wearing the t-shirts one of the guys designed and printed to support Liz and I while I'm croaking. Very cool t-shirt. When I sync my phone up to the lap top I'll add a picture of it here. So, thanks guys, you're a great group of people. I know Liz and I both really appreciate and love what you're doing. And for helping me make our last anniversary one I hope Liz remembers.
A hug and an adult beverage. Those are your marching orders for the day. Go live your damn bucket list, why wait?
Friday, September 20, 2013
Dammit
Well, after taking a day away from the blog, getting a good night's sleep, up and ready to take the boy to school on time, then no good thing seems to go unpunished lately. I get home. Figure I'll load the old computer up, go to Starbucks, work on the blog and watch the yo yo's stand in line for coffee. Generally a pretty fun thing to do on a cool, cloudy morning. With a bit of rain in the forecast, it would be fun. So far, not the damn case. I get home from taking the boy to school, gather up my toys I have to have to go anywhere, and begin to cough. Not a little, "oh, something is in my trach" cough. No, that would be okay. This was a deep in the back of my throat, what the hell is going on, kinda cough. Only I knew damn well what was going on. I'm gonna puke. Great. See, when I get to the point I puke, nothing keeps it from loading up my sinuses. That also means it has now way to stay in there so I can blow my nose to clear it out. No, it runs right back the direction it went in, all full of yuck and really strong acid. So, it makes me gag, which makes me throw up, which starts the entire process over again. In the mean time, having been fooled before, it'll stop for a few minutes. Lulling you into that happy place that is meant to truly be "Oh shit, that's over with, I can relax", only to jump back in with a nice projectile shot. Ahhh, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. I didn't fall for that falsehood. I waited. And just as I had an inkling that it was over, it hit again. I'm fine now, but bear in mind the whole thing took almost 2 hours out of my morning. And is almost as much fun as running a power cheese grater over your private parts. Almost. So, here I sit. Two hours and a half after I dropped The Boy off at school. Two hours plus since I started to gather my stuff. And I think it's finally calmed down. No, I will not be leaving the house today, that bus that hit my a couple days ago came back and hit me again. Somewhere between the corner of Shit I puked and Shit, I Hate That.
So, that fun is out of the way. On the plus side, I didn't bust a vessel or puke up copious amounts of blood. That's a good thing, because people freak out around here if I'm suctioning a little blood. If I puking some, I certainly don't want to do mouth to mouth after one of them passes out. Or runs in circles. Or does the "Stand in Place and Panic Run" which, among women, is accompanied by "Holding my Boobs While I Stand in Place and Panic Run". That's really kinda funny, in a sick way, but it makes me laugh none the same. For good or ill, no one freaks like the first time I got to really tossin my cookies. Mostly that's a good thing. Not as funny, but a lot easier on everyone's blood pressure, for certain.
Now, what brought that one? Well it's very humid and drizzly. That used to make me more of a runny nose boy any way, so why not now? I also fed with a syringe this morning, and may have put it in too fast, which can make a feller throw up. Or it's the huge bubble of gunk that was plaguing me most of the early morning this morning. Any one of those, or all of them, could start that fun and games. Anyway, that's how it is, infrequently, if one can't swallow any thing at all and relies on suction to help them out. It sucks dick for skittles, but it's how it is and will only get worse. Starbucks tomorrow then!!!
See, it's really not all that bad. I mean it hurts, it's a gigantic pain in the ass. But as long as shit like that happens once in a while, I'm reminded that I'm really still alive and kicking. A buddy reminded me of that last night. Pain and adversity can do two things. Drag you down and leave you with nothing. Or reaffirm that you're truly alive, and this is your fight if you're willing. Willing has never been a problem with me. I didn't fight every cause, since some of them weren't mine, but I was, and am, always willing to jump in if someone needs the help, or if I get dragged into it. Adversity is what should drive us toward a different goal. Pain? Sometimes that's a good reminder as to why we need to stay the course. Nothing good has ever come from anything that didn't require some personal sacrifice. It's no fun, but I believe it's a requirement. And that doesn't just mean physical pain, don't limit it there. It's also emotional and mental pain. The old saying "When the going gets tough, the tough get going" is spot on, I believe. Movement is life. Sideways, back a couple of steps, but always with that forwarding looking goal in mind. That's if you have to go over or around the adversity and obstacles that are thrown at you. So, yeah, my forward looking goals are still intact. I just change how I have to get to them
Someone mentioned Gladys's, right next to Kickshickers. I went in there several times. The last time I'm standing drinkin a cold beer, watching two lovely young women flirt with a couple of guys. Then BOOM!! One of em cold cocks the piss out of the other. To his credit, the guy that got hit didn't go clear down, but staggered a bit, got his footing and took the other guy to the floor. By now there's a circle of people around. Most of the guys are being quiet, making sure the winner didn't put leather to the other guy. We did that in the old days, you know. Fight is over, it's over, no kicking a downed man, it wasn't sporting and no one likes an asshole. So, Gladys walks up to me "Go break that up". No, Gladys, that's your bouncers job. "The guy on the ground IS my bouncer!!!". I started cracking up. She got really pissed. Mad enough I think there were actually bees coming out of her BeeHive hairdo, supplied with wiglets and wigs. So, another guy and I walked over, each grabbed a leg and dragged the bouncer and the guy who was beating his ass, outside. I turned mine loose, started to walk over to Kickers, and the dip shit throws a rock at me. He's still on the ground. "You douche, don't make me stomp a hole in your ass", and walked over to the next bar. That was the last time I went into Gladys's. It wasn't as rough as the place she had at 4 Corners, but damn near!! That place was like CutThroat Alley. Geez
Do something that involves a challenge. You know, like watching porn without cheetos, that kinda challenge
Have a wonderful day!! Mine is already getting better.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Hmmmmm
Well, this is turning out to be "Bad Mood Wednesday". It might be best if I just stayed off here and didn't write anything since I'm hotter than a steamed fucking clam right now. And after an hour and a half I should be calmed down, but that's not happening. Usually I get into a snit I'm over it in a few minutes, but this morning is the exception to the rule, and I'm in a foul mood.
I didn't start out that way, no siree Bob it didn't. I had my pain patch upped a notch yesterday, and stayed up kind of late to make sure it didn't have some unwanted side effects. You know, like trouble breathing and the like. I slept a damn good 4 hours too. Straight through, no hacking or coughing. No sinus drainage. Just a nice restful sleep. I woke up without the neck and shoulder pain too. That's a plus. So all in all I was in a pretty good mood. Came up with a plan since I've got an extra trach tube now, so that when I shower the collar isn't wet and icky. And, since it no longer bothers me to look into the hole in my throat, I can change one I've already got set up to use, for the one that's wet from the shower. A nice thing overall. It's more comfortable, and even though the package says "breathable foam collar", it smell like it's not breathable at all while it's drying out. So, starting with a fresh, dry, collar as well as the gauze to go between my trach tube and throat, certainly is a nicer thing. I'd thought about doing it before, but always thought I needed help with it. Nope, I don't. I sorted out the minor problems and it's something I can do on my own. So yeah, the morning started off pretty damn good at my house between 0430 and 0515. Got a shower, fixed my trach, took my meds, got a feed in. Not bad for 45 minutes. While some things are slowing down, others are speeding up. Must be nature balancing itself out.
Oh no, no, the trouble started when I hit Starbucks to hang with my buds. The same old boy started in on my ass this morning. Normally I can blow it off. Not this morning. I tried to tell him to shut the fuck up, but since my voice is going that didn't get understood. And he tried to be funny imitating how I sound and look when I try to speak. I got super pissed off. Couldn't really see anymore than dark outlines of people in a completely red background. That used to spell really bad, bad things were about to happen. Really bad things. So, instead I took a deep breath, gathered up my shit, gave him the finger and walked....lie, stormed the fuck out...of the place. Went for about a 10 minute drive to calm down enough to write legibly and went back. One of the guys that was there tried to smooth it over before I went back in, and the old mother fucker doesn't even realize his friend is that good a buddy. It's a damn shame. So what I wrote was this: "I left for a few minutes so I didn't just slap the fuck clean out of your. Or drill you one in the throat so I could laugh at your inability to breath or speak. But I don't do that anymore. Since all you can do lately is have sport at my expense, something I ignored for a long time before now. And since I'm too sick, sore,tired, and can't talk anymore, I don't have to put up with your shit. I listened to your shit for years, and gave some back, but I don't have to put up with it any more, so kiss my dying ass. This is the last time you'll have me to fuck with ever." Slammed the note down next to his coffee, listened to a worthless fucking apology and left. Last time I'll be in there early in the morning. I'll go in later in the day and visit with the girls. But I certainly don't have to put up with that shit anymore.
It's not that I'm even so thin skinned. Or don't want to be treated differently than I was before. But fuck me, before I even get set down? Bullshit and kiss my ass. I don't need the aggravation. Let it go for ten minutes and I can tune out the drivel about the never ending golf game, or the whining over the shoulder surgery, or how you HAVE to throw money at your kids because they can't take care of themselves. But right off the bat, before I can set my shit down? No. No way. No fucking way do I have to listen to the bullshit. I kid, tease, screw with and laugh with people a lot. But I try to feel them out before I run off at the head. That's an unwritten rule with me. Someone looks tired, or sore, or otherwise distracted, I leave em the hell alone. It's been my experience that you might get busted in the mouth for the things you say to people, so you damn well better be willing to throw down, or just keep your mouth shut. I've always been willing, that's not a problem. And it's not too hard to keep your mouth shut. And, as a rule, most shit people say to me runs off my back. Even when I kind of liked to get into it a little, just mouthing off wouldn't get it done, you had to be serious enough to touch me. So, for whatever reason this morning really twisted my nuts the wrong direction. It's the first time in probably 10 years, I've seen nothing but red. That time some asshole that had just beaten the piss out of a friend's of mine daughter accidentally put his hand on me and said "I'm gonna drive your dick into the dirt". When I could finally see and hear again, he was underneath me, with my thumb buried up to the joint next to my hand in his throat, and was a nice shade of blue with his eyes rolled up into his head. Yes, he breathed when I got off of him. If I hadn't heard one of my friends say "Rock, that's enough", I might not have turned him loose at all. Huntsville is humid in the summer. I'm glad I let him up.
Then I get, "are you going to travel? It doesn't sound like it." from some people. Ya know, why don't you not bother to assume what I will and won't or can't do. When it gets to that point, you'll know because I'll tell ya.
So there, I've got an all day, full burn going. I'm not going to be very pleasant with anyone. And the complete shits of that is, I can't really go off and find somewhere to work it off. I'm fucking stuck basically in town, at the fucking house. It's "Wide Berth Day" around me today.
Have fun, watch out, and don't forget, sometimes even us nice guys lose our tempers
Hugs, and a bang on the hear
I didn't start out that way, no siree Bob it didn't. I had my pain patch upped a notch yesterday, and stayed up kind of late to make sure it didn't have some unwanted side effects. You know, like trouble breathing and the like. I slept a damn good 4 hours too. Straight through, no hacking or coughing. No sinus drainage. Just a nice restful sleep. I woke up without the neck and shoulder pain too. That's a plus. So all in all I was in a pretty good mood. Came up with a plan since I've got an extra trach tube now, so that when I shower the collar isn't wet and icky. And, since it no longer bothers me to look into the hole in my throat, I can change one I've already got set up to use, for the one that's wet from the shower. A nice thing overall. It's more comfortable, and even though the package says "breathable foam collar", it smell like it's not breathable at all while it's drying out. So, starting with a fresh, dry, collar as well as the gauze to go between my trach tube and throat, certainly is a nicer thing. I'd thought about doing it before, but always thought I needed help with it. Nope, I don't. I sorted out the minor problems and it's something I can do on my own. So yeah, the morning started off pretty damn good at my house between 0430 and 0515. Got a shower, fixed my trach, took my meds, got a feed in. Not bad for 45 minutes. While some things are slowing down, others are speeding up. Must be nature balancing itself out.
Oh no, no, the trouble started when I hit Starbucks to hang with my buds. The same old boy started in on my ass this morning. Normally I can blow it off. Not this morning. I tried to tell him to shut the fuck up, but since my voice is going that didn't get understood. And he tried to be funny imitating how I sound and look when I try to speak. I got super pissed off. Couldn't really see anymore than dark outlines of people in a completely red background. That used to spell really bad, bad things were about to happen. Really bad things. So, instead I took a deep breath, gathered up my shit, gave him the finger and walked....lie, stormed the fuck out...of the place. Went for about a 10 minute drive to calm down enough to write legibly and went back. One of the guys that was there tried to smooth it over before I went back in, and the old mother fucker doesn't even realize his friend is that good a buddy. It's a damn shame. So what I wrote was this: "I left for a few minutes so I didn't just slap the fuck clean out of your. Or drill you one in the throat so I could laugh at your inability to breath or speak. But I don't do that anymore. Since all you can do lately is have sport at my expense, something I ignored for a long time before now. And since I'm too sick, sore,tired, and can't talk anymore, I don't have to put up with your shit. I listened to your shit for years, and gave some back, but I don't have to put up with it any more, so kiss my dying ass. This is the last time you'll have me to fuck with ever." Slammed the note down next to his coffee, listened to a worthless fucking apology and left. Last time I'll be in there early in the morning. I'll go in later in the day and visit with the girls. But I certainly don't have to put up with that shit anymore.
It's not that I'm even so thin skinned. Or don't want to be treated differently than I was before. But fuck me, before I even get set down? Bullshit and kiss my ass. I don't need the aggravation. Let it go for ten minutes and I can tune out the drivel about the never ending golf game, or the whining over the shoulder surgery, or how you HAVE to throw money at your kids because they can't take care of themselves. But right off the bat, before I can set my shit down? No. No way. No fucking way do I have to listen to the bullshit. I kid, tease, screw with and laugh with people a lot. But I try to feel them out before I run off at the head. That's an unwritten rule with me. Someone looks tired, or sore, or otherwise distracted, I leave em the hell alone. It's been my experience that you might get busted in the mouth for the things you say to people, so you damn well better be willing to throw down, or just keep your mouth shut. I've always been willing, that's not a problem. And it's not too hard to keep your mouth shut. And, as a rule, most shit people say to me runs off my back. Even when I kind of liked to get into it a little, just mouthing off wouldn't get it done, you had to be serious enough to touch me. So, for whatever reason this morning really twisted my nuts the wrong direction. It's the first time in probably 10 years, I've seen nothing but red. That time some asshole that had just beaten the piss out of a friend's of mine daughter accidentally put his hand on me and said "I'm gonna drive your dick into the dirt". When I could finally see and hear again, he was underneath me, with my thumb buried up to the joint next to my hand in his throat, and was a nice shade of blue with his eyes rolled up into his head. Yes, he breathed when I got off of him. If I hadn't heard one of my friends say "Rock, that's enough", I might not have turned him loose at all. Huntsville is humid in the summer. I'm glad I let him up.
Then I get, "are you going to travel? It doesn't sound like it." from some people. Ya know, why don't you not bother to assume what I will and won't or can't do. When it gets to that point, you'll know because I'll tell ya.
So there, I've got an all day, full burn going. I'm not going to be very pleasant with anyone. And the complete shits of that is, I can't really go off and find somewhere to work it off. I'm fucking stuck basically in town, at the fucking house. It's "Wide Berth Day" around me today.
Have fun, watch out, and don't forget, sometimes even us nice guys lose our tempers
Hugs, and a bang on the hear
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Man, I'm tired
All of a sudden I've been really tired and can't get enough sleep. Well, I mean I get enough that I can function, but I'm taking naps more often and they last longer. Talk about a bummer. Now that I really want to be out doing something other than watching my toe nails grow, I'm getting too tired to even want to do that.
I get worn out quickly. Probably due to lack of the amount of exercise I need, because a lot of that hurts quite a bit. I'm going to go back to at least walking more than I do. I can feel my legs going. The problem even doing that increases the amount of swelling in my neck and face. I'm gonna have to decide which is more important, exercise or less swelling. I go with exercise. The swelling is coming regardless of what I do, so I might as well help the rest of my body out while I can. I'm hoping that does something for this chronic tired spell as well. Jumping my metabolism up can't be all bad, and it'll do wonders for my heart I'm sure. Somewhere in here lies a medium place where I can reap some benefit and not have all the crap side effects that go with it. Part of the reason I wear out fast is probably a pain issue as well. I get so sore so fast it knocks the wind out of me. It's like working with a perpetually strained or pulled muscle. Just constantly pestering you. It jumps in and says "wake up for 15 minutes, I'm lonely", every night. That is part of the problem as well. Looks like it's time to change the pain patch dosage up a notch. That will help some. I was kinda hoping that would be a hold off moment for another month or so. Although, I got this prescription on July 20. I'm close to 2 months into that. That's two months of the uninvited house guest growth, and that's a factor as well.
I have a lack of choice, and that makes me tired as well. I can't just go out and do as I please like I used to go out and do. I have feedings, like some damned baby, that I need to do on at least a partial schedule. I don't just grab a bottle and drink as much liquid as I did either. That has to be planned out so I can fill a feeding bag with whatever I chose to use, be that water or lemonade (no, I can't swallow, but I can get a taste of it), and that takes time. The Hospice brought me by a bunch of gravity feeding bags that have a hose that's at least half the size of my old ones. Instead of 10 or 15 minutes to feed, it takes 40-50 minutes. I've been using a syringe to feed myself. I mean hell, I don't have anywhere to go, but why do I want to be tied down to a damn bag for 3-4 times what I was having to be tied to it in the first place? Even the bags we ordered last have the same damn skinny line. Why is it medical supply places have such a shittin hard time getting what you ordered the first time out the gate? Irritating to say the least. Pisses me plumb the fuck off, to say the average. Physically I'm limited as well. It's safer for me to drive, because I have better mirrors to help me see surrounding traffic, and I'm crazy cautious now. Riding the bike, I can't do that at all. Not and feel as safe as I'd like. I don't have the head and neck rotation I need to ride it into traffic. Although I've got to get it to my son in Grand Prairie, so that's gonna be a big highway ride. And yes, I've tried to wear the helmet. The chin strap cuts into my scar and tissue on my neck and tries to wear a hole in it. Helmet is a no go.
So you see, my choices of things I'd like to to are so limited that it frustrates the shit out of me, and that in and of itself makes me very tired. It's like a constant fight with me to think, "I should go...nope, can't do that". Frustrating.
I hear it's up to you to make your quality of life. And I agree with that. I have a lot of fun still. I'm not as loud, but I still have a good time. While it's not the quality of life I'd like to have, there's still quality in there. As tired as I get, I'm not quite ready to shuck it all in yet. There's a couple of things I have to do first, and a few things I should do. Those I'm working on, the need to do things are coming up quickly. After that, I'm not sure how I'll feel. I know I'll be worn out for a time, but it should be pretty well content. For ten minutes or so anyway. While my quality of life isn't up to my standards, I'm gonna have to pull up the big boy pants and make certain that it gets damn close to there. That gets a bit harder to do every week. Some days it's a plain struggle, but without a struggle, life isn't worth living anyway. I believe life is supposed to be a roller coaster, scary in parts, relaxing in others. I've not been afraid of the parts that are supposed to suck your breath out, there's no reason I should change that now. I don't think anyway.
Okay, my eyes burn, my shoulders and neck are asking for some additional pain meds, so I'm gonna wrap this up.
I'm tired, but that's okay, at least I'm alive enough to realize I'm tired.
Be careful, and have fun. Sometimes I could actually do both. Not often, but sometimes
I get worn out quickly. Probably due to lack of the amount of exercise I need, because a lot of that hurts quite a bit. I'm going to go back to at least walking more than I do. I can feel my legs going. The problem even doing that increases the amount of swelling in my neck and face. I'm gonna have to decide which is more important, exercise or less swelling. I go with exercise. The swelling is coming regardless of what I do, so I might as well help the rest of my body out while I can. I'm hoping that does something for this chronic tired spell as well. Jumping my metabolism up can't be all bad, and it'll do wonders for my heart I'm sure. Somewhere in here lies a medium place where I can reap some benefit and not have all the crap side effects that go with it. Part of the reason I wear out fast is probably a pain issue as well. I get so sore so fast it knocks the wind out of me. It's like working with a perpetually strained or pulled muscle. Just constantly pestering you. It jumps in and says "wake up for 15 minutes, I'm lonely", every night. That is part of the problem as well. Looks like it's time to change the pain patch dosage up a notch. That will help some. I was kinda hoping that would be a hold off moment for another month or so. Although, I got this prescription on July 20. I'm close to 2 months into that. That's two months of the uninvited house guest growth, and that's a factor as well.
I have a lack of choice, and that makes me tired as well. I can't just go out and do as I please like I used to go out and do. I have feedings, like some damned baby, that I need to do on at least a partial schedule. I don't just grab a bottle and drink as much liquid as I did either. That has to be planned out so I can fill a feeding bag with whatever I chose to use, be that water or lemonade (no, I can't swallow, but I can get a taste of it), and that takes time. The Hospice brought me by a bunch of gravity feeding bags that have a hose that's at least half the size of my old ones. Instead of 10 or 15 minutes to feed, it takes 40-50 minutes. I've been using a syringe to feed myself. I mean hell, I don't have anywhere to go, but why do I want to be tied down to a damn bag for 3-4 times what I was having to be tied to it in the first place? Even the bags we ordered last have the same damn skinny line. Why is it medical supply places have such a shittin hard time getting what you ordered the first time out the gate? Irritating to say the least. Pisses me plumb the fuck off, to say the average. Physically I'm limited as well. It's safer for me to drive, because I have better mirrors to help me see surrounding traffic, and I'm crazy cautious now. Riding the bike, I can't do that at all. Not and feel as safe as I'd like. I don't have the head and neck rotation I need to ride it into traffic. Although I've got to get it to my son in Grand Prairie, so that's gonna be a big highway ride. And yes, I've tried to wear the helmet. The chin strap cuts into my scar and tissue on my neck and tries to wear a hole in it. Helmet is a no go.
So you see, my choices of things I'd like to to are so limited that it frustrates the shit out of me, and that in and of itself makes me very tired. It's like a constant fight with me to think, "I should go...nope, can't do that". Frustrating.
I hear it's up to you to make your quality of life. And I agree with that. I have a lot of fun still. I'm not as loud, but I still have a good time. While it's not the quality of life I'd like to have, there's still quality in there. As tired as I get, I'm not quite ready to shuck it all in yet. There's a couple of things I have to do first, and a few things I should do. Those I'm working on, the need to do things are coming up quickly. After that, I'm not sure how I'll feel. I know I'll be worn out for a time, but it should be pretty well content. For ten minutes or so anyway. While my quality of life isn't up to my standards, I'm gonna have to pull up the big boy pants and make certain that it gets damn close to there. That gets a bit harder to do every week. Some days it's a plain struggle, but without a struggle, life isn't worth living anyway. I believe life is supposed to be a roller coaster, scary in parts, relaxing in others. I've not been afraid of the parts that are supposed to suck your breath out, there's no reason I should change that now. I don't think anyway.
Okay, my eyes burn, my shoulders and neck are asking for some additional pain meds, so I'm gonna wrap this up.
I'm tired, but that's okay, at least I'm alive enough to realize I'm tired.
Be careful, and have fun. Sometimes I could actually do both. Not often, but sometimes
Monday, September 16, 2013
Again? Really?
My buddy Dennis made it home in one piece. That's always nice considering once he clears the Permian Basin the chances of surviving on the highway goes up considerably. Folks out here haven't ever been able to drive worth a damn, and it's worse now. The last time I went to Daytona Beach on the bike, the only cars I had tailgate, cut off, or damn near hit me all had Texas tags. And people here wonder why Texas has such a bad rap. Sheesh.
Again with the bleeding throat. Gee whiz that's fun!! There's nothing quite like aspirating and coughing up a nice, big honkin glob of bright red shit out of your trach tube three or four times during the night. Then suctioning it out in the morning. It's not the bleeding, it's tasting the blood that sucks. Hell, I've been hit in the mouth enough to know that coppery, slick, ick, taste of blood. It's getting a tad worse and the weeks move along. When I first noticed it a little over a month or go, it would be just a touch, and it would stop in an hour or so. And that wasn't very often or with any regularity. Now it's two or three times a week and goes on for that hour, and sometimes up to eight or ten hours. Not that it's like I've blown a vessel in my throat or anything, but it's enough it shows up. It could be several things, and all of those are related in some way to Baxter, that devious shit. Some of the symptoms I'm to expect are, you guessed it, bleeding. I'll get tired faster: Check, My energy level will fall: Check, the pain will increase: Check. Hmmm, Baxter is tripping along just like I figured he would. I can almost tell you when he picks up and scoots around so as to do his work in several places. My normal level of tired ramps up, and I just wanna sleep all the time. Actually to the near point of narcolepsy. Crazy stuff this Baxter is pulling.
I've got some other minor physical issues that I suspect will continue to increase. I believe Baxter is checking into my lymph node hotel. and trying to book every room. I'm starting to get some swelling under my arms and around the side of my neck they didn't cut nodes out. I am retaining fluid from my collar bones up, and some down my left side. I believe all that is Baxter related. After all, he liked my lymph nodes 5 years ago, no reason he shouldn't enjoy staying at them again.
Also, my shoulders and muscle around my shoulder blades just won't quit hurting. Sometimes worse than others, sometimes not bad at all, but alway some pain or another going on there. I don't recall if that's one of the symptoms or not. I do know that some of it is directly related to my surgery and how it's messing with my biomechanics. Where they left my pec tied into my chest is tightening up and puling my shoulder in and my head down. We started with some KTape yesterday, and I think that it's already beginning to help. I know that I can't swallow as well, or as much. I'm beginning to think that it's getting toward the end of my SLP therapy. There's no use taking up my therapists time if it's not helping. I'll know by the end of next week. The lymphedema therapy though, is still helping. Getting rid of some of that built up fluid in my face and neck helps a lot. Right now though, it builds back in almost as fast as they can get it cleared out. I may be winding down on that therapy as well. We'll just have to see how that goes. I'm funny, I guess, in that I'll be ready to quit ahead of my therapists. And these are good people, too. They aren't out to hang it in the insurance company just for a chance to treat, and we are working together to get it done. I like them and their "can do" attitude. I can see in their faces too, that they aren't enjoying this "end of life" stuff any more than I am. They're good folk
So, with all that, what am I gonna do? Just as I please, which is just like always. Granted, just as I please includes a large, everything on it thin crust pizza. I'll have to beg off that, but you get the idea. I've got some errands to run today, and then I should be able to just crash and burn with no big problems for the rest of the day. At least that's my plan. I quit telling my wife "I should be in early" when I was working. That was a sure shot that I was gonna be three or so hours late. It's like this: Should = Ought to, but not necessarily will. So I play each trip by ear. Works out better for me.
There are days when I'm not all good thoughts and jolly dancing Rock. Like everyone else I have good and bad days. I choose not to focus on the bad things that are going on, and that takes the edge off bad days for certain. It could be worse is absolutely true. And even I have trouble now and then thinking that. What is certain is that what you think affects how you feel and your health. If you're a constantly down person, you're gonna feel like shit most of the time. Up beat and optimistic people are generally healthier. It's why I put a name on my cancer. I can fight Baxter. Cancer is a broad term that hope is lost in. So screw cancer, I'm working on holding Baxter at bay. Just not with a clinical trial that's gonna make me more sick than I am now. Just because this MAY be a losing fight, doesn't mean I'm not going down swinging. In real life I lost my share of fights, but the other guy generally didn't want to do it again any time soon. Baxter will be no exception to that rule. I plan on fighting dirty, just like I did 30 some years ago, when I had to fight at all,
So, let's review. New things happen every day. It's not all cheery things either. That doesn't matter. Change is inevitable, no use railing against the candle because someone lost their matches
Again with the bleeding throat. Gee whiz that's fun!! There's nothing quite like aspirating and coughing up a nice, big honkin glob of bright red shit out of your trach tube three or four times during the night. Then suctioning it out in the morning. It's not the bleeding, it's tasting the blood that sucks. Hell, I've been hit in the mouth enough to know that coppery, slick, ick, taste of blood. It's getting a tad worse and the weeks move along. When I first noticed it a little over a month or go, it would be just a touch, and it would stop in an hour or so. And that wasn't very often or with any regularity. Now it's two or three times a week and goes on for that hour, and sometimes up to eight or ten hours. Not that it's like I've blown a vessel in my throat or anything, but it's enough it shows up. It could be several things, and all of those are related in some way to Baxter, that devious shit. Some of the symptoms I'm to expect are, you guessed it, bleeding. I'll get tired faster: Check, My energy level will fall: Check, the pain will increase: Check. Hmmm, Baxter is tripping along just like I figured he would. I can almost tell you when he picks up and scoots around so as to do his work in several places. My normal level of tired ramps up, and I just wanna sleep all the time. Actually to the near point of narcolepsy. Crazy stuff this Baxter is pulling.
I've got some other minor physical issues that I suspect will continue to increase. I believe Baxter is checking into my lymph node hotel. and trying to book every room. I'm starting to get some swelling under my arms and around the side of my neck they didn't cut nodes out. I am retaining fluid from my collar bones up, and some down my left side. I believe all that is Baxter related. After all, he liked my lymph nodes 5 years ago, no reason he shouldn't enjoy staying at them again.
Also, my shoulders and muscle around my shoulder blades just won't quit hurting. Sometimes worse than others, sometimes not bad at all, but alway some pain or another going on there. I don't recall if that's one of the symptoms or not. I do know that some of it is directly related to my surgery and how it's messing with my biomechanics. Where they left my pec tied into my chest is tightening up and puling my shoulder in and my head down. We started with some KTape yesterday, and I think that it's already beginning to help. I know that I can't swallow as well, or as much. I'm beginning to think that it's getting toward the end of my SLP therapy. There's no use taking up my therapists time if it's not helping. I'll know by the end of next week. The lymphedema therapy though, is still helping. Getting rid of some of that built up fluid in my face and neck helps a lot. Right now though, it builds back in almost as fast as they can get it cleared out. I may be winding down on that therapy as well. We'll just have to see how that goes. I'm funny, I guess, in that I'll be ready to quit ahead of my therapists. And these are good people, too. They aren't out to hang it in the insurance company just for a chance to treat, and we are working together to get it done. I like them and their "can do" attitude. I can see in their faces too, that they aren't enjoying this "end of life" stuff any more than I am. They're good folk
So, with all that, what am I gonna do? Just as I please, which is just like always. Granted, just as I please includes a large, everything on it thin crust pizza. I'll have to beg off that, but you get the idea. I've got some errands to run today, and then I should be able to just crash and burn with no big problems for the rest of the day. At least that's my plan. I quit telling my wife "I should be in early" when I was working. That was a sure shot that I was gonna be three or so hours late. It's like this: Should = Ought to, but not necessarily will. So I play each trip by ear. Works out better for me.
There are days when I'm not all good thoughts and jolly dancing Rock. Like everyone else I have good and bad days. I choose not to focus on the bad things that are going on, and that takes the edge off bad days for certain. It could be worse is absolutely true. And even I have trouble now and then thinking that. What is certain is that what you think affects how you feel and your health. If you're a constantly down person, you're gonna feel like shit most of the time. Up beat and optimistic people are generally healthier. It's why I put a name on my cancer. I can fight Baxter. Cancer is a broad term that hope is lost in. So screw cancer, I'm working on holding Baxter at bay. Just not with a clinical trial that's gonna make me more sick than I am now. Just because this MAY be a losing fight, doesn't mean I'm not going down swinging. In real life I lost my share of fights, but the other guy generally didn't want to do it again any time soon. Baxter will be no exception to that rule. I plan on fighting dirty, just like I did 30 some years ago, when I had to fight at all,
So, let's review. New things happen every day. It's not all cheery things either. That doesn't matter. Change is inevitable, no use railing against the candle because someone lost their matches
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Did anyone get the number of that bus?
It's been a couple or more days since I posted up anything. My friend Dennis Folk from Dallas came to visit on Friday, and I think it's a touch rude to post away while company twiddles their thumbs. Once again my lack of rapid communication skills frustrates me, but it wasn't as bad this time. Not because I didn't have anything to say, just that I didn't let it bother like it normally does. We visited about what's going on with each other and our families. Dennis regaled my oldest with stories of our youth (i believe he lied on most of them, or i had an evil twin), and we laughed a lot. I sound like a steam engine with a nasty valve leak when I laugh, but that makes me laugh harder. We went to a couple of estate sales, and a garage sale. Dennis found 4 Body Glove west suits for $20, and they didn't look like they'd been used. A steal I believe. Liz went out with her friend Cheri to supper at Saltgrass, that left Dennis, Sarah, and me to have fun on our own. Of course, watching UT lose again was priceless, same with Texas A&M, but we had to kill some time. So, we played Rummy, had a drink, and watched the tube. I had a blast. Dennis stomped our asses. We laughed. I made a discovery early this morning. The consumption of any alcoholic beverages, even mixed, and on a full stomach, just ain't gonna cut it anymore. I could taste the drink on a sip from a spoon, but had to run it into the feeding tube. I didn't get way lit up, but I sure feel like I've been run over by a bus. Hence today's title. It's always a bit sad for me to see friends leave, a bit more so now even. But I sure do like seeing them. I'll be glad to hit McPherson Ks, and The Celtober Throw Down in Keller Tx the last of this month and the last of October respectively. There are a lot of really good people I need to hug and tell good bye. Those may be the last chances I get to do so for a lot of them. And again, it'll suck to see them as I leave. Then again, I do get to see them, and that's truly what counts.
I find myself getting more easily worn out and tired. This was to be expected, but I was hoping that would take a bit longer to start than what it has. I've given my gym membership to my oldest daughter, I tried going back in to lift and do minor cardio at least, and it just caused me to hurt so bad I deemed the gain was not worth the pain. Not just muscle soreness, that's a given and I've dealt with that for years. No, this was stabbing "WTF Rock? Trying to kill yourself?" pain in my neck, face, shoulders and upper back. And it didn't quit. Couple that with my right leg thinking folding up like a cheap lawn chair was okay and it just wasn't worth it any longer. Okay, that or I've become a fanatical wussy. Either way I begged off training. What I do is use the little stretch strap things they gave me back in April. It's not great, but it's better than nothing I'm sure. Accepting the fact that I can't lift or jog about anymore suck ass for Snickers bars. I don't like it, I don't relish the fact that I've had to stop, and I am loathe to just sit. It's like giving up one more piece of my independence. I need to find some loud mouth that's yelling at some young woman about how his coffee isn't hot enough, then just nut the holy shit out of him. And while that's only a short term fix, it's immediate gratification, and I could use some of that today. No, I've never nutted a guy for yelling at any of the young women in any coffee shop. I have, however, spoken to them about being polite. And when one of them got snotty about it, I slapped his coffee out of his hand. Instant gratification. It's not the right thing, it's the inappropriate thing at the right time that counts. When I used to get those pent up feelings, I would head to the gym, lift until I thought I was gonna puke, come home and shower, and those pent up frustration feelings were gone. I've got to find another channel for those now, or I may get a bit shitty to be around. Mr Temper has been trimming his fuse again. I need to find an outlet for that so he doesn't just sneak around.
Discovery #4,213,112: I'm more patient with my Grandson than I was my own kids, how does that work? Ive spoken about my good friends before, and I don't think I can say enough how lucky I am in that regard. I've done something right, I guess. They are the ones that generally when we were out having fun, managed to keep me pulled in a touch, and I never noticed until long after that they did that. Sneaky bastards
It was time to change the trach tube today. Not just the inner piece that I can take out and clean so I can breath better. The entire thing. The one I had in was in place way too long and needed changed. Discovery #4,213,113: Leave it in until you're finished with your shower before changing everything out. At least in my case. The stoma seemed way tight when I was putting this one back. I don't think it will start permanently close, but I think it relaxes a bit and boy, did I have to shove to get it back in place. I need a quick picture of that one day to show everyone. Gross and gnarly? Hell yes! But kinda cool as well. I've wondered before, who thought this up? "Go ahead, Bob, cut a hole in his throat, he's choking to death anyway, what have we got to lose, right?". Or was it an accident. "Holy shit, Bob! Look at this! He's got a hollow reed sticking out of his throat and he's breathing through it! What? NO!!! You take it out, I ain't touchin it!". The goofy shit that runs through my head. Of course we know that the biggest strides in modern plastic surgery came forward during WW1. It was very crude compared to today, but it was the beginning of what we know as modern reconstructive surgery. Those guys did near miracle work, given what they knew then and the tools they had to work with.
SIDEBAR! Sarah comes in and says "Shit, I've gained a pound!". Let's see, she's done between 80 and 160 deep knee bends a day, and jogs 15-20 minutes a day for the last 2 weeks. She does not believe daddy that she's added muscle weight. I tell her to stay off the scales. But does she listen? Nooooooooo
Today's growth fun is once again bleeding like a stuck hog from my throat. Aspirating that stuff is also a blast. I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Unless it's using a cheese grater on my dick. That's almost as fun I'm sure. It's not that I bleed so much I'm gonna pass out from the loss of blood. It's the damn taste of it in my mouth. And it's so far back that I can't effectively suction it out. Watching it shoot down the suction line is a thrill as well. It's a pain in the ass, more than anything, and it kind of sets the tone for the day. I don't feel like I can go running around with the wife, since using the suction somewhere public would freak out the small minded and small children. In all honesty kids tend to be less annoying than adults. They'll ask at least, adults just stare. My faves are the one that stare and shake their heads. Uninformed, closed minded, foolish assholes that they are, they still piss me off. There are differences in stupid people as well. One set are just unable to learn or think far enough ahead that they never learn to grasp complex ideas. The other set are stupid because they can, and won't make the effort, or can't and get angry and mean because they can't. I'll help a gentle person that's not ever going to grasp the complex all I can, because it's the right thing to do. The other set of stupid people I've got a marker on my ass that says "Pogue" with an arrow and an "X". And they may, as often as they like. Kids on the other hand say "What happened to you?". I got sick. "Oh. Will you get better?" No, I won't get any better. "Oh. That's too bad. What's that thing in your neck for?" So I can breathe better. "Oh. Cool. Okay bye!" How sweet is that, huh? No big long answers. No I'm sorry. Just curious. That's something the "No Dunce Left Behind" tests and things are destroying, and it's why we are becoming a less educated people. We are stifling curiosity. Shame on us.
Some years ago myself, Dennis, our buddy Big Mike from Chicago, friends Jim, Rick and Rick had been out sucking up some suds. It was after closing time and the only place open was a truck stop west of the LK on 54 highway. We bust ass out there, grab a big table ahead of the normal drunk rush and start to order. Mike goes first: "Yes, I'd like the open faced roast beef sammich with mashed potatoes, a double cheese burger with fries, the larger fried steak and eggs, add 3 extra eggs, please, the 2 chicken enchilada meal, and a burrito". Waitress started to walk away. "No wait! That's for me, I don't give a shit what these other assholes are eating". We rolled, the look on her face was priceless. He ate everything, and stole a couple of pieces of my toast from my 6 egg omelet to mop up his plates. No, Big Mike wasn't fat. He weight and conditioning trained, and he lugged beef at National Beef all day. He was also tougher than a boot. One night at the infamous Yosemite Sam's, Mike was talking up some pretty good lookin girl when some guy comes up and starts talking shit to him. I told the guy, "Don't, just don't, you'll regret it. Come on, I'll buy you a pitcher and we can talk about it" He called me a prick. Me? Really? Ooookaaaay Mr Knowitfuckingall, good luck.
So, he braces Mike up. Mike starts to laugh and tell him no, I'm not gonna fight, it'd interrupt me talking my way into this girls pants. The girl looked at him funny, but didn't leave, Mike is still laughing. The dude hits Mike in the chest. Mike never stopped laughing or talking to the girl. He spins the guy around and bear hugs him. Still chuckling and talking to the girl that still hasn't left. Veins start to pop up in Mikes forearms. He's seriously puttin the squeeze on the blabber mouth, tough guy wanna be. I don't know 30 seconds or so the guy kinda stops flopping, his head droops and chin hits his chest. He's out. Mike set him in a chair, tilted his head back so he could have an open airway. And still laughing with the girl who didn't leave, left with her and didn't come back. I think they went to eat and then study the stars. Yeah, that's what they did alright
Have fun, embrace the goofy (the strange stuff, not the cartoon dog) and live your life like you only had a couple of days of good health left. There may come a time that that is the case.
Love y'all
I find myself getting more easily worn out and tired. This was to be expected, but I was hoping that would take a bit longer to start than what it has. I've given my gym membership to my oldest daughter, I tried going back in to lift and do minor cardio at least, and it just caused me to hurt so bad I deemed the gain was not worth the pain. Not just muscle soreness, that's a given and I've dealt with that for years. No, this was stabbing "WTF Rock? Trying to kill yourself?" pain in my neck, face, shoulders and upper back. And it didn't quit. Couple that with my right leg thinking folding up like a cheap lawn chair was okay and it just wasn't worth it any longer. Okay, that or I've become a fanatical wussy. Either way I begged off training. What I do is use the little stretch strap things they gave me back in April. It's not great, but it's better than nothing I'm sure. Accepting the fact that I can't lift or jog about anymore suck ass for Snickers bars. I don't like it, I don't relish the fact that I've had to stop, and I am loathe to just sit. It's like giving up one more piece of my independence. I need to find some loud mouth that's yelling at some young woman about how his coffee isn't hot enough, then just nut the holy shit out of him. And while that's only a short term fix, it's immediate gratification, and I could use some of that today. No, I've never nutted a guy for yelling at any of the young women in any coffee shop. I have, however, spoken to them about being polite. And when one of them got snotty about it, I slapped his coffee out of his hand. Instant gratification. It's not the right thing, it's the inappropriate thing at the right time that counts. When I used to get those pent up feelings, I would head to the gym, lift until I thought I was gonna puke, come home and shower, and those pent up frustration feelings were gone. I've got to find another channel for those now, or I may get a bit shitty to be around. Mr Temper has been trimming his fuse again. I need to find an outlet for that so he doesn't just sneak around.
Discovery #4,213,112: I'm more patient with my Grandson than I was my own kids, how does that work? Ive spoken about my good friends before, and I don't think I can say enough how lucky I am in that regard. I've done something right, I guess. They are the ones that generally when we were out having fun, managed to keep me pulled in a touch, and I never noticed until long after that they did that. Sneaky bastards
It was time to change the trach tube today. Not just the inner piece that I can take out and clean so I can breath better. The entire thing. The one I had in was in place way too long and needed changed. Discovery #4,213,113: Leave it in until you're finished with your shower before changing everything out. At least in my case. The stoma seemed way tight when I was putting this one back. I don't think it will start permanently close, but I think it relaxes a bit and boy, did I have to shove to get it back in place. I need a quick picture of that one day to show everyone. Gross and gnarly? Hell yes! But kinda cool as well. I've wondered before, who thought this up? "Go ahead, Bob, cut a hole in his throat, he's choking to death anyway, what have we got to lose, right?". Or was it an accident. "Holy shit, Bob! Look at this! He's got a hollow reed sticking out of his throat and he's breathing through it! What? NO!!! You take it out, I ain't touchin it!". The goofy shit that runs through my head. Of course we know that the biggest strides in modern plastic surgery came forward during WW1. It was very crude compared to today, but it was the beginning of what we know as modern reconstructive surgery. Those guys did near miracle work, given what they knew then and the tools they had to work with.
SIDEBAR! Sarah comes in and says "Shit, I've gained a pound!". Let's see, she's done between 80 and 160 deep knee bends a day, and jogs 15-20 minutes a day for the last 2 weeks. She does not believe daddy that she's added muscle weight. I tell her to stay off the scales. But does she listen? Nooooooooo
Today's growth fun is once again bleeding like a stuck hog from my throat. Aspirating that stuff is also a blast. I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Unless it's using a cheese grater on my dick. That's almost as fun I'm sure. It's not that I bleed so much I'm gonna pass out from the loss of blood. It's the damn taste of it in my mouth. And it's so far back that I can't effectively suction it out. Watching it shoot down the suction line is a thrill as well. It's a pain in the ass, more than anything, and it kind of sets the tone for the day. I don't feel like I can go running around with the wife, since using the suction somewhere public would freak out the small minded and small children. In all honesty kids tend to be less annoying than adults. They'll ask at least, adults just stare. My faves are the one that stare and shake their heads. Uninformed, closed minded, foolish assholes that they are, they still piss me off. There are differences in stupid people as well. One set are just unable to learn or think far enough ahead that they never learn to grasp complex ideas. The other set are stupid because they can, and won't make the effort, or can't and get angry and mean because they can't. I'll help a gentle person that's not ever going to grasp the complex all I can, because it's the right thing to do. The other set of stupid people I've got a marker on my ass that says "Pogue" with an arrow and an "X". And they may, as often as they like. Kids on the other hand say "What happened to you?". I got sick. "Oh. Will you get better?" No, I won't get any better. "Oh. That's too bad. What's that thing in your neck for?" So I can breathe better. "Oh. Cool. Okay bye!" How sweet is that, huh? No big long answers. No I'm sorry. Just curious. That's something the "No Dunce Left Behind" tests and things are destroying, and it's why we are becoming a less educated people. We are stifling curiosity. Shame on us.
Some years ago myself, Dennis, our buddy Big Mike from Chicago, friends Jim, Rick and Rick had been out sucking up some suds. It was after closing time and the only place open was a truck stop west of the LK on 54 highway. We bust ass out there, grab a big table ahead of the normal drunk rush and start to order. Mike goes first: "Yes, I'd like the open faced roast beef sammich with mashed potatoes, a double cheese burger with fries, the larger fried steak and eggs, add 3 extra eggs, please, the 2 chicken enchilada meal, and a burrito". Waitress started to walk away. "No wait! That's for me, I don't give a shit what these other assholes are eating". We rolled, the look on her face was priceless. He ate everything, and stole a couple of pieces of my toast from my 6 egg omelet to mop up his plates. No, Big Mike wasn't fat. He weight and conditioning trained, and he lugged beef at National Beef all day. He was also tougher than a boot. One night at the infamous Yosemite Sam's, Mike was talking up some pretty good lookin girl when some guy comes up and starts talking shit to him. I told the guy, "Don't, just don't, you'll regret it. Come on, I'll buy you a pitcher and we can talk about it" He called me a prick. Me? Really? Ooookaaaay Mr Knowitfuckingall, good luck.
So, he braces Mike up. Mike starts to laugh and tell him no, I'm not gonna fight, it'd interrupt me talking my way into this girls pants. The girl looked at him funny, but didn't leave, Mike is still laughing. The dude hits Mike in the chest. Mike never stopped laughing or talking to the girl. He spins the guy around and bear hugs him. Still chuckling and talking to the girl that still hasn't left. Veins start to pop up in Mikes forearms. He's seriously puttin the squeeze on the blabber mouth, tough guy wanna be. I don't know 30 seconds or so the guy kinda stops flopping, his head droops and chin hits his chest. He's out. Mike set him in a chair, tilted his head back so he could have an open airway. And still laughing with the girl who didn't leave, left with her and didn't come back. I think they went to eat and then study the stars. Yeah, that's what they did alright
Have fun, embrace the goofy (the strange stuff, not the cartoon dog) and live your life like you only had a couple of days of good health left. There may come a time that that is the case.
Love y'all
Friday, September 13, 2013
Happy Anniversary
Yesterday was my twenty first anniversary. Doesn't seem like it's been that long. I'd like to see at least another twenty-one, but that's not gonna happen, dammit. So, at the beginning of September I asked if it would be alright if I renewed my vows at the hospital where my wife works for her anniversary present. Sure, they said, let us know when it gets closer. Foolish me, I lost track of time until the 10th. But her bosses are great, and got stuff set up for me. I gathered up my stuff, including the two kids that aren't in school and headed down to the hospital. I stopped to get flowers, but my favorite place no longer sells them. Damn, didn't plan for that. Cancer brain fail. So, I go on thinking what a dope I am, and find out when I get there that her friends (which are bosses as well) have a dozen red rose buds, a veil, something borrowed, something new, and have the entire thing set up. We are waiting for my oldest kid to show up. She gets there and they go get Liz. "We have a meeting", they said. "It won't take long", they said.
So, I see my loving wife walk out of the door, into a hall full of people, with a WTF expression on her face, then she sees me with a dozen roses, and I think she sees the chaplain and the veil and breaks down into tears. The shits is, I'm more nervous now than the day we got married. If that's not some shit and all. The Chaplains (there were two) did a nice prayer each, one read a renewal ceremony, and we had a smooch. Well, I got smooched, mine smoocher is fucked up and doesn't work anymore. Much to my chagrin.
This is not the big soiree' I'd been looking into since last March. I had, or so I thought, four years to plan a really cool twenty-fifth anniversary party, complete with a renewing of vows, some grilled foods, maybe some dancing and drinking. Probably copious amounts of drinking. I got kinda cut off at the knees on that one. Such is life though, or the Terminal Velocity portion I'm on right now anyway. I certainly didn't expect to make it this far, given some of the situations I've been in when I was younger, but now that I'm here, I certainly would love to see another 20 years, or more, at least. I hit that point where things were really getting close to "Me n Liz" time. Not that you ever quit thinking about or worrying about your kids. But so far we've done a good job at making independent thinking children who can take care of themselves. I saw no reason that wouldn't continue to be the case. It was time to start thinking about taking another trip to Scotland, and this time traveling on our own, going to see what we wanted to see, and spend a bit more time at fewer places. Or, just take some trips to the high lonesome, go to places here at home we haven't been to yet. There are a lot of those. Or, heaven forbid, learn how to talk to each other again without the conversation being around a kid and what they are doing. The kids are getting old enough to become friends as well as children. That's a pretty neat time in your life. Where you can kick back and say, "Yeah, they're gonna be okay. We can have fun with them now, again.". That was getting to be pretty cool. Yep, "Me n Liz" time got shot in the ass. So, the only thing I could think of to do, was show her I really do love her by renewing our vows on what is more than likely our last anniversary. Liz, love you as much as my life itself. It's been a party, ain't it.
This morning I go to get set with the boys and listen to them prattle on, because normally it's relaxing and it breaks up this dog shit routine I've got at the house of feeding every 4 hours, suctioning pond scum out of my mouth and wondering if it's time to up my pain meds a little (decision on the latter is "not quite yet"). I wrote something down, got a smart assed remark about Kansas State, and it pissed me clear the fuck off. I left. Normally I'd just ignore it and go on. But, for seven years I've listened to these guys crack wise about where I'm from and what I do for a sport and just laughed it off. All the while listening to them prattle on about that boring assed golf game they talk endlessly about, or get bent completely out of shape if you say one sideways remark about UT sports of any kind. So, fuck em with a cactus this morning. I don't need that particular brand of shit right now. I don't feel well enough to put up with it, and quite honestly, I don't have to put up with it. I never really did, so that's on me. Not anymore though. It's tough enough to have to write shit down all the time, I'm not going to defend the state I grew up in to a bunch of self righteous pricks.
So ends the rant. (more than likely i'll go back, just not anytime soon).
I'm beginning to tire more easily. I retain more fluid in and around my face, neck and shoulder. I'm more sore and the pain is a bit stouter than it was a even 2 weeks ago. I do not like this at all. I know Baxter is on the move, and it seems like he's picking up a little steam, the rat bastard. I think the trip up to Kansas, and the one to Fort Worth late next month will probably be it for me. I'm hoping that I'm up to the trip to Fort Worth, even. Considering the difference in how I feel now, compared to how I felt this time last month. I used to hack up a little blood every once in a while. Now it's every three to four days, and for varying lengths of time. It can be a bit disconcerting when that first big slug hits. After that it's just a pain in the ass. Because I feel like that's something I need to keep an eye on, just in case it starts getting worse. And it will. I'm hoping that holds off a bit. Liz has a birthday coming up. She deserves a break for that day, for sure and for certain, and worrying about my ass isn't a break at all.
Some years back, after we moved down here, and I'd been catching grief about working in the Kansas oil field from these Texas boys, I was watching them take water legs down from heater treaters to clean iron sulfide out of them. The guys were filthy, and stank, because that's the nature of that nasty black shit. It even gets into the pores of your skin so it's a terrible thing to get off.
"So, why is it you genius Texas boys work so hard at cleaning a water leg?". Which got started in on what the hell do I know, I'm from Kansas. What I knew was where to find 30' of 5/8" sand line, which I promptly opened the stranded on the wire rope and made a brush looking end. I went to the next treater, undid the victaulic clamp and opened up the bottom of the water leg. I shoved my homemade brush up the thing, with rubber gloves on, and started brushing away. In 10 minutes I had a 5 gallon bucket full of iron sulfide and scale, and the water leg had quit shedding the crap out of it. I buttoned it back up, kicked the water to it, and it ran like a champ. "There, geniuses, that's how we do it in Kansas, smarter, not harder. I guess you puddle jumpers don't know everything GD thing after all, do ya?" I rolled up my wire rope brush, put it in the back of my truck, and while I was getting ready to leave, was practically begged to leave the brush with them. "Nope, you assholes are so bright, go find some of your own and make the brush yourself. I don't know shit, remember? I worked in Kansas". Took them the rest of the day to clean two more water legs. And before I get "that just cost the company money", no, it didn't. Those guys were contracted a minimum 8 hours in my field, every day, regardless of what they did. Now, it wouldn't have only taken them 30-45 minutes, maybe less since it took me 40 minutes doing it by myself, to clean each water leg on the other two vessels. But they also learned a bit of "shut the fuck up" while they were getting absolutely filthy, and black, and covered in salt water on a 105 degree summer afternoon. Six months later, it was pretty chilly and time to clean water legs again. They had a wire rope brush to took them 5 hours to clean 8 water legs. Not 16 hours like it did the last time, and they didn't get wet, or quite so covered in BS. In the long run, they learned something new, and didn't forget it either. And they didn't say much to me about where I worked either. Unless we were kidding around, and that was fine by me
Be nice today, someone you run into may not be feeling well. Some folk aren't as sweet and kind as I am these days. Someone may be me thirty-mumble years ago and kick an ankle out from underneath you, because they hadn't learned how to pull their temper in like they did as they got older. Just sayin.
Love all y'all. Be careful out there, hear?
And my buddy Dennis Folk, watch your ass when you get west of Abilene, the dorks here in the Permian Basin can't drive for shit. See ya this evening.
So, I see my loving wife walk out of the door, into a hall full of people, with a WTF expression on her face, then she sees me with a dozen roses, and I think she sees the chaplain and the veil and breaks down into tears. The shits is, I'm more nervous now than the day we got married. If that's not some shit and all. The Chaplains (there were two) did a nice prayer each, one read a renewal ceremony, and we had a smooch. Well, I got smooched, mine smoocher is fucked up and doesn't work anymore. Much to my chagrin.
This is not the big soiree' I'd been looking into since last March. I had, or so I thought, four years to plan a really cool twenty-fifth anniversary party, complete with a renewing of vows, some grilled foods, maybe some dancing and drinking. Probably copious amounts of drinking. I got kinda cut off at the knees on that one. Such is life though, or the Terminal Velocity portion I'm on right now anyway. I certainly didn't expect to make it this far, given some of the situations I've been in when I was younger, but now that I'm here, I certainly would love to see another 20 years, or more, at least. I hit that point where things were really getting close to "Me n Liz" time. Not that you ever quit thinking about or worrying about your kids. But so far we've done a good job at making independent thinking children who can take care of themselves. I saw no reason that wouldn't continue to be the case. It was time to start thinking about taking another trip to Scotland, and this time traveling on our own, going to see what we wanted to see, and spend a bit more time at fewer places. Or, just take some trips to the high lonesome, go to places here at home we haven't been to yet. There are a lot of those. Or, heaven forbid, learn how to talk to each other again without the conversation being around a kid and what they are doing. The kids are getting old enough to become friends as well as children. That's a pretty neat time in your life. Where you can kick back and say, "Yeah, they're gonna be okay. We can have fun with them now, again.". That was getting to be pretty cool. Yep, "Me n Liz" time got shot in the ass. So, the only thing I could think of to do, was show her I really do love her by renewing our vows on what is more than likely our last anniversary. Liz, love you as much as my life itself. It's been a party, ain't it.
This morning I go to get set with the boys and listen to them prattle on, because normally it's relaxing and it breaks up this dog shit routine I've got at the house of feeding every 4 hours, suctioning pond scum out of my mouth and wondering if it's time to up my pain meds a little (decision on the latter is "not quite yet"). I wrote something down, got a smart assed remark about Kansas State, and it pissed me clear the fuck off. I left. Normally I'd just ignore it and go on. But, for seven years I've listened to these guys crack wise about where I'm from and what I do for a sport and just laughed it off. All the while listening to them prattle on about that boring assed golf game they talk endlessly about, or get bent completely out of shape if you say one sideways remark about UT sports of any kind. So, fuck em with a cactus this morning. I don't need that particular brand of shit right now. I don't feel well enough to put up with it, and quite honestly, I don't have to put up with it. I never really did, so that's on me. Not anymore though. It's tough enough to have to write shit down all the time, I'm not going to defend the state I grew up in to a bunch of self righteous pricks.
So ends the rant. (more than likely i'll go back, just not anytime soon).
I'm beginning to tire more easily. I retain more fluid in and around my face, neck and shoulder. I'm more sore and the pain is a bit stouter than it was a even 2 weeks ago. I do not like this at all. I know Baxter is on the move, and it seems like he's picking up a little steam, the rat bastard. I think the trip up to Kansas, and the one to Fort Worth late next month will probably be it for me. I'm hoping that I'm up to the trip to Fort Worth, even. Considering the difference in how I feel now, compared to how I felt this time last month. I used to hack up a little blood every once in a while. Now it's every three to four days, and for varying lengths of time. It can be a bit disconcerting when that first big slug hits. After that it's just a pain in the ass. Because I feel like that's something I need to keep an eye on, just in case it starts getting worse. And it will. I'm hoping that holds off a bit. Liz has a birthday coming up. She deserves a break for that day, for sure and for certain, and worrying about my ass isn't a break at all.
Some years back, after we moved down here, and I'd been catching grief about working in the Kansas oil field from these Texas boys, I was watching them take water legs down from heater treaters to clean iron sulfide out of them. The guys were filthy, and stank, because that's the nature of that nasty black shit. It even gets into the pores of your skin so it's a terrible thing to get off.
"So, why is it you genius Texas boys work so hard at cleaning a water leg?". Which got started in on what the hell do I know, I'm from Kansas. What I knew was where to find 30' of 5/8" sand line, which I promptly opened the stranded on the wire rope and made a brush looking end. I went to the next treater, undid the victaulic clamp and opened up the bottom of the water leg. I shoved my homemade brush up the thing, with rubber gloves on, and started brushing away. In 10 minutes I had a 5 gallon bucket full of iron sulfide and scale, and the water leg had quit shedding the crap out of it. I buttoned it back up, kicked the water to it, and it ran like a champ. "There, geniuses, that's how we do it in Kansas, smarter, not harder. I guess you puddle jumpers don't know everything GD thing after all, do ya?" I rolled up my wire rope brush, put it in the back of my truck, and while I was getting ready to leave, was practically begged to leave the brush with them. "Nope, you assholes are so bright, go find some of your own and make the brush yourself. I don't know shit, remember? I worked in Kansas". Took them the rest of the day to clean two more water legs. And before I get "that just cost the company money", no, it didn't. Those guys were contracted a minimum 8 hours in my field, every day, regardless of what they did. Now, it wouldn't have only taken them 30-45 minutes, maybe less since it took me 40 minutes doing it by myself, to clean each water leg on the other two vessels. But they also learned a bit of "shut the fuck up" while they were getting absolutely filthy, and black, and covered in salt water on a 105 degree summer afternoon. Six months later, it was pretty chilly and time to clean water legs again. They had a wire rope brush to took them 5 hours to clean 8 water legs. Not 16 hours like it did the last time, and they didn't get wet, or quite so covered in BS. In the long run, they learned something new, and didn't forget it either. And they didn't say much to me about where I worked either. Unless we were kidding around, and that was fine by me
Be nice today, someone you run into may not be feeling well. Some folk aren't as sweet and kind as I am these days. Someone may be me thirty-mumble years ago and kick an ankle out from underneath you, because they hadn't learned how to pull their temper in like they did as they got older. Just sayin.
Love all y'all. Be careful out there, hear?
And my buddy Dennis Folk, watch your ass when you get west of Abilene, the dorks here in the Permian Basin can't drive for shit. See ya this evening.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Hey Buuuuddy
Yesterday a friend I've had for almost 20 years came to visit. He wrote a nice note to my on FB, too. I get frustrated and pissed at myself that I can't communicate for shit with him, because we have fun talks. We laugh a lot, talk some serious shit, a little work (even if we all swear we won't talk work, we do, admit it), and about life in general. I enjoy those talks. If we talk about work, it's things we learn about our fields, brag a little, but mostly about funny shit that happened when we worked together. There were a lot of those. Jamie just sat, I got frustrated, he sat. I'd write a little on my board, he'd talk about what I'd asked or said, then he sat. He's comfortable just being in my company. That's damned humbling, I tell ya. I feel like we ought to be doing something. Jamie doesn't care if we do or not. He says, "Take a nap, I'm fine". Well, yeah, that's not gonna happen if I can help it. Seems rude to me if someone drives a couple hours or so to see you. I figure they didn't come to watch your mouth drape open and your trach tube whistle while you nap. Jamie doesn't care. It frustrates me that I can't talk, not that I don't enjoy his company. Honestly I'm pretty happy just sitting with friends and not breezing or being on the go all the time myself. But still, geez.
Jamie wrote some nice things in his short note on FaceBook. Like how I mentored him on how to pump and what to look for in the field. How I was there when he was getting divorced and supportive, and gave good advise. I hope that was all true. I took heat from a wacko freakin boss we had, but I considered that my responsibility since I was senior man in the field at the time. He was nuts, that boss, and he'd twist off and jump ass over nothing. Or make shit up, or intentionally screw you over just to eat your ass out. I'd take his shit, and tell Jamie and the other guys "Just wait, the Karma Police will get his ass". In the long run they did. Like Jamie said, Karma Police, regular cops, and folks at the nut house finally brought him down. It was a damn shame, because if he'd not been such a asshole at work, he had potential to be about half way decent. I didn't see myself doing anything out of the ordinary for Jamie, at least in my mind. I'm glad I was able to help him out, though. It's a good thing to hear you've done something for your friends, especially if your don't realize you're doing it at the time. Thanks for coming by, next time we can work on the Fat Girl, and I won't have to feel like I've been such a drag of a host
Friends are damn important. Sometimes more important than family. Good friends you can talk to about things that the family doesn't need to hear, because it would upset them, or make them feel bad. As good as your relationship with your family is, there's always something that needs hashed out without them hearing it. Why yes, even I have to do that once in a while. Still. You worry about your family, so you use your friends as sounding boards. Why? Because you worry about them too, and they worry about you, that's why. Good friends will tell you what a dick head you're being, and mean it as a way to help you out, not just as a way to belittle you. Good friends make you mad as all get out, but you can't stay that way with them. Because you know you've done the same thing with them. You can tell each other you're screwing up and not lose faith in each other. Those are good friends. They are important, make certain you tell them they are. I've been pretty fortunate in my good friends. I've got a lot of friends, don't get me wrong, probably hundreds of friends and acquaintances, but really only 7 truly good friends.
Let me explain that a little bit if I may. This blog, and my Facebook page is the most open I've been about what goes on with me in my entire life. I generally kept things pretty close to the vest, with the exception of Liz. The Lovely knew everything all the time. Because she is my rock and my grounding rod. I figured anything going on with me was really no ones damn business anyway. Yeah, yeah, I know, selfish. Yes it was, because I don't like asking for help, never have. Irks me still to ask for help and I just won't unless I'm out of options. All the folks I've reconnected with, I consider all of you friends. I'll help any of you out in any way I can. I also know that you'll do anything to help me out as well. That's great. It makes me uncomfortable, but it's a wonderful thing to have so many support me as I do. It's a lot humbling, and very encouraging. I thank all of you every day. I started being open with my cancer story really back when I got healed up the first time. I'd go talk to strangers about what they might encounter, who they should talk to, what kind of questions to ask, where to find resources. That kind of stuff. Because I found it lacking when I was being treated. Even a bit of that at MD Anderson, one of the best cancer places in the US has trouble with just speaking plain to patients. That being said, I only have 7 good friends.
They stood by me when I was being less than what I should have been, and told me so. Those are the 7 guys that after years of not seeing each other, we jump back in like it was yesterday. Damn near like watching the Hung and The Breathless soap opera. In 10 minutes we'd caught up all the time we'd missed out on and never missed a beat. Rare, that is, for certain. Those 7 guys know some things about me that Liz may not even know, and that's okay too. Everyone needs something that not everyone knows about. Keeps life interesting. Not that it's been all peaches and cream with these friends, no sir, no how. I've felt like I had to give a couple some time to sort some of their own business out, and I'm sure they felt that way about me as well. That's okay. It doesn't mean I don't care about them any less, it means that there's not much I can do to help sort out their own feelings and problems. Doesn't mean we can't and didn't get past that either, just that we needed time. One of my really good friends died a few years back. Tom Ruch. I mess him a little every day. How much that hurt me, well even my good friends didn't know about that, neither did The Lovely. That was something I kept to myself and had to work through on my own. The sad thing on my part is that I let so many years pass between my good friends and myself. I was hell bent on doing shit on my own, without anyone but Liz and I, that I missed some good years. Fucking mistake that, and I apologize to you guys. I shouldn't have done that. Now that it's heading toward the end of this cycle, I can honestly say it won't happen again! HA!
Back when I was a kid, we lived on a section ranch in Russell county. I know I've mentioned that before. My little brother would run me bat shit with "I wanna go! Let's do this, let's do that", enough to make you open a vein, I swear. I taught him how to ride a bike out there. It was a quarter mile from the county road to the house. We started at one end, which going from the house to the county road was a little up hill, and I got his started. "Pedal!! Pedal you whiny little shit!!" Crash. "Okay, get up on it and go again. I've got shit I want to do and not mess around with your ass trying to ride a bike". Off he'd go. Crash. UP, crash, up, crash. Cry, off to mom, back out, cry. Scratch, cry, crash. At that end of the morning he was riding the bike and I was off on the horse as far away from him as I could get.
Once when he was tagging along while I did my chores, I left him standing. He grabbed a clod off the wheat stubble and drilled the back of my head. Oh yes, ass whippin on the way. He was pretty speedy and had a good jump on me. I rounded the edge of the house just to hear a huge crash. Glass breaking, I look at the front porch storm door, and all I see are ass and feet. He tripped and went through the glass door. "Well, I'm off to jail now, I've killed the stupid little shit. Chased him until he tripped. His throat's cut or he's got glass clean through his middle". Good or bad, I didn't. I got an ass eatin, but I think in the long run the folks were glad he didn't cut his throat. He did, however, steer clear of me for the next couple of weeks. Probably a good idea.
That summer, right before school started, the horse and I got in trouble for swimming across the pond. I had on new jeans, jeans jacket, shirt and boots. All new. I bailed on the horse bareback, with just a hackamore to steer with. Usually not a problem, until today. We were out riding the cattle, looking at calves and trying to avoid the bull, who had a short fuse and didn't like me much. Another story for another blog. Anyway, something distracted the horse on the other side. I didn't have enough head control with the hackamore to turn him, he just starts off across the pond. I pull my feet up. Deeper. I stood on his back. Deeper. I sat back down, with my feet up on his neck and my middle getting soaked. And out the other side we came. Boots were dry. Clothes, not so much. Ma was peeved. Fortunately, laundry day in town was coming up before school started, so I had a jacket to wear.
Fun on the farm
Today's blog was brought to you by the letter 3 and the number Q.
Have fun girls and boys. And hug a buddy. They need it too
Jamie wrote some nice things in his short note on FaceBook. Like how I mentored him on how to pump and what to look for in the field. How I was there when he was getting divorced and supportive, and gave good advise. I hope that was all true. I took heat from a wacko freakin boss we had, but I considered that my responsibility since I was senior man in the field at the time. He was nuts, that boss, and he'd twist off and jump ass over nothing. Or make shit up, or intentionally screw you over just to eat your ass out. I'd take his shit, and tell Jamie and the other guys "Just wait, the Karma Police will get his ass". In the long run they did. Like Jamie said, Karma Police, regular cops, and folks at the nut house finally brought him down. It was a damn shame, because if he'd not been such a asshole at work, he had potential to be about half way decent. I didn't see myself doing anything out of the ordinary for Jamie, at least in my mind. I'm glad I was able to help him out, though. It's a good thing to hear you've done something for your friends, especially if your don't realize you're doing it at the time. Thanks for coming by, next time we can work on the Fat Girl, and I won't have to feel like I've been such a drag of a host
Friends are damn important. Sometimes more important than family. Good friends you can talk to about things that the family doesn't need to hear, because it would upset them, or make them feel bad. As good as your relationship with your family is, there's always something that needs hashed out without them hearing it. Why yes, even I have to do that once in a while. Still. You worry about your family, so you use your friends as sounding boards. Why? Because you worry about them too, and they worry about you, that's why. Good friends will tell you what a dick head you're being, and mean it as a way to help you out, not just as a way to belittle you. Good friends make you mad as all get out, but you can't stay that way with them. Because you know you've done the same thing with them. You can tell each other you're screwing up and not lose faith in each other. Those are good friends. They are important, make certain you tell them they are. I've been pretty fortunate in my good friends. I've got a lot of friends, don't get me wrong, probably hundreds of friends and acquaintances, but really only 7 truly good friends.
Let me explain that a little bit if I may. This blog, and my Facebook page is the most open I've been about what goes on with me in my entire life. I generally kept things pretty close to the vest, with the exception of Liz. The Lovely knew everything all the time. Because she is my rock and my grounding rod. I figured anything going on with me was really no ones damn business anyway. Yeah, yeah, I know, selfish. Yes it was, because I don't like asking for help, never have. Irks me still to ask for help and I just won't unless I'm out of options. All the folks I've reconnected with, I consider all of you friends. I'll help any of you out in any way I can. I also know that you'll do anything to help me out as well. That's great. It makes me uncomfortable, but it's a wonderful thing to have so many support me as I do. It's a lot humbling, and very encouraging. I thank all of you every day. I started being open with my cancer story really back when I got healed up the first time. I'd go talk to strangers about what they might encounter, who they should talk to, what kind of questions to ask, where to find resources. That kind of stuff. Because I found it lacking when I was being treated. Even a bit of that at MD Anderson, one of the best cancer places in the US has trouble with just speaking plain to patients. That being said, I only have 7 good friends.
They stood by me when I was being less than what I should have been, and told me so. Those are the 7 guys that after years of not seeing each other, we jump back in like it was yesterday. Damn near like watching the Hung and The Breathless soap opera. In 10 minutes we'd caught up all the time we'd missed out on and never missed a beat. Rare, that is, for certain. Those 7 guys know some things about me that Liz may not even know, and that's okay too. Everyone needs something that not everyone knows about. Keeps life interesting. Not that it's been all peaches and cream with these friends, no sir, no how. I've felt like I had to give a couple some time to sort some of their own business out, and I'm sure they felt that way about me as well. That's okay. It doesn't mean I don't care about them any less, it means that there's not much I can do to help sort out their own feelings and problems. Doesn't mean we can't and didn't get past that either, just that we needed time. One of my really good friends died a few years back. Tom Ruch. I mess him a little every day. How much that hurt me, well even my good friends didn't know about that, neither did The Lovely. That was something I kept to myself and had to work through on my own. The sad thing on my part is that I let so many years pass between my good friends and myself. I was hell bent on doing shit on my own, without anyone but Liz and I, that I missed some good years. Fucking mistake that, and I apologize to you guys. I shouldn't have done that. Now that it's heading toward the end of this cycle, I can honestly say it won't happen again! HA!
Back when I was a kid, we lived on a section ranch in Russell county. I know I've mentioned that before. My little brother would run me bat shit with "I wanna go! Let's do this, let's do that", enough to make you open a vein, I swear. I taught him how to ride a bike out there. It was a quarter mile from the county road to the house. We started at one end, which going from the house to the county road was a little up hill, and I got his started. "Pedal!! Pedal you whiny little shit!!" Crash. "Okay, get up on it and go again. I've got shit I want to do and not mess around with your ass trying to ride a bike". Off he'd go. Crash. UP, crash, up, crash. Cry, off to mom, back out, cry. Scratch, cry, crash. At that end of the morning he was riding the bike and I was off on the horse as far away from him as I could get.
Once when he was tagging along while I did my chores, I left him standing. He grabbed a clod off the wheat stubble and drilled the back of my head. Oh yes, ass whippin on the way. He was pretty speedy and had a good jump on me. I rounded the edge of the house just to hear a huge crash. Glass breaking, I look at the front porch storm door, and all I see are ass and feet. He tripped and went through the glass door. "Well, I'm off to jail now, I've killed the stupid little shit. Chased him until he tripped. His throat's cut or he's got glass clean through his middle". Good or bad, I didn't. I got an ass eatin, but I think in the long run the folks were glad he didn't cut his throat. He did, however, steer clear of me for the next couple of weeks. Probably a good idea.
That summer, right before school started, the horse and I got in trouble for swimming across the pond. I had on new jeans, jeans jacket, shirt and boots. All new. I bailed on the horse bareback, with just a hackamore to steer with. Usually not a problem, until today. We were out riding the cattle, looking at calves and trying to avoid the bull, who had a short fuse and didn't like me much. Another story for another blog. Anyway, something distracted the horse on the other side. I didn't have enough head control with the hackamore to turn him, he just starts off across the pond. I pull my feet up. Deeper. I stood on his back. Deeper. I sat back down, with my feet up on his neck and my middle getting soaked. And out the other side we came. Boots were dry. Clothes, not so much. Ma was peeved. Fortunately, laundry day in town was coming up before school started, so I had a jacket to wear.
Fun on the farm
Today's blog was brought to you by the letter 3 and the number Q.
Have fun girls and boys. And hug a buddy. They need it too
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
It could be worse
"It could be worse". I've tried to make that my motto. I'd almost bet that some of the guys I worked with over the years got damn tired of hearing that little adage. Although, in most cases it truly could be worse. There's always something that could have gone farther wrong that it did. Even just a tiny bit worse, is truly worse, it doesn't have to be a catastrophic failure for things to be worse than they are right now. That's part of why whining just pisses me clear off. What's the point of pissing and moaning about a situation you're currently in? After all, it's not always going to be like it is right now, nothing is static. Everything constantly changes. I'm gonna die. So are we all, but I'm headed that way just a little faster than some of us. But, it could be worse. I could be doing this all alone, without support of family and friends. That's a ton worse. I could be in screaming mimi pain all the time, I'm not. So yeah, my dying could be a hell of a lot worse than it is right now. Is my condition going to get worse? Oh hell yeah it is, no two ways around it. But it will never be so bad that it probably couldn't be worse.
Most of the stuff people piss and moan about is within their control. Constantly pissed or hacked about your job? Quit, find something different, or someplace different and quit. Nothing drags down people who actually like where they work and what they do faster than someone who's a constant griper. God almighty, if you don't like it get the fuck out and save the rest of us your down trodden frickin attitude. Then there are the folks that bitch about things that are out of their control. There are things that I don't like that I, nor anyone else alone, can fix. I don't bitch about them because for now that's how it is. The one thing I do bitch about is politics, and I can't change the boneheads in the City clear to Washington DC, so my labors there are those of Sisyphus. It's my one bitch I allow myself. The rest is just pissing up a rope and grouching about wet shoes. Does not complaining mean I like what's going on in a given situation? No, that doesn't mean that at all. What it does is free up myself to work on changing that situation into something tolerable for myself. I figure that's what everyone should do first, although that's not usually the case with most people. It's easier to bitch about a problem, than to do the inner searching to figure out first if you're the problem to begin with. I don't like doing it, but it's better than laying the blame off on fifty other things only to find out I was the catalyst to begin with. It takes a certain amount of personal responsibility. Frightening as that is, it's something a lot of people pass off.
Aw, you know, it could be worse. While I'm writing this, I'm reading it and finding that it sounds like I'm bitching!! After all, this could be worse, right? It's human nature, I think, to complain about things. I wonder if we do that as a safety valve, so we don't let ourselves be overwhelmed by that which crowds us mentally. As a machine, the human body is a pretty wonderful thing. Animals are usually more efficient in the use of their energy and strength. The difference is how the computer that drives us works. We take for granted that our noggin is full of the same material that took humans from spears and migration with the herds, to the ability to touch other planets. That's pretty heady (wow, no pun intended) material when you get right down to it. Everyone's brain is about the same, it's how they function that makes us who we are. They all build connections differently, and expand on ideas differently. That's what gives us Einstein and Hawking. Same stuff as everyone else, they make connections differently. I'm no where near as bright as Stephen Hawking, but I can still walk and pretty easily communicate. So, it could be worse for me. I wonder, with all his physical difficulty, if Stephen Hawking doesn't think, "It could be worse, I could have average intelligence"? Crazy, huh.
If complaining is an outlet to keep us from blowing a gasket, why is it some of us don't feel the need to complain much at all? Or all the time for that matter? I don't like to grouch because it's a waste of time. It accomplishes nothing, really, other than maybe getting some stress off our chests. I''ll be the first to admit I've bitched about things, but not for long before I tried to do something about them. That's how it should be, I think.
Anyway, enough of that. Geez, thinking about complaining makes me wanna open a vein. Yeow
Back in the day, there was a little beer joint called Yosemite Sam's, in Liberal Kansas. Thirty three years ago it was the happenin spot. Live bands, a few brawls, two shootings. One of which did some serious injury to the owner. I missed that by a couple of days, I was out of town if memory serves me correctly.
All kinds of folks went there. From bikers and drug dealers to the people that would become known as yuppies and preppies. (shudder) All in all it was a fun place to be, lots of laughs with friends. Except for a couple of times.
One of those times I was out with a bud who was home visiting from school. He called, we went out to Sam's to have a few laughs and copious quantities of beer. He got sloppy drunk. Oh geez, a mistake in that place for some folks. I got slipped something in a beer once in there. Found out who did it ten years later, Karma police got that rat bastard. Wasn't so funny when the shit you pulled on people came home to roost, was it?
I digress. So my bud gets sloppy drunk. Once in a while the mens room was the place folks would go run a line of coke up their nose. Ya kinda had to be careful when you opened the door or you'd hit someone in the ass and make them spill their nose candy. Bad news. Soooo, what's my buddy do? Boots the door. Hit one of the local dealers in the ass, knocked a medicine bottle full of cocaine into the sink that had water running in it. Oh shit. I grabbed him by the shirt collar and tucked him in behind me and started backing out. All three of the bad guys are moving in. I've got my bud in my left hand, shoving him backwards toward the front door, all the while the three dudes are hollerin about kicking his ass to death, and me hollerin back they'd have to come through me first, and my buddy yellin "What? What did I do?!?!". Out the door, backing away still, headed south to the far end of the block and another parking area. Yellin back and forth, I'm getting visions of knives, fists, feet and a whole lot of hurt. No cops, no sheriff, nothing is gonna stop this once we hit the dark. Or so I thought. At the end of the street, they just stopped. I didn't quit moving, just the drug dudes did that. I get the door to the car open, shove my buddy in and haul his ass back home. Alls well that ends well. Two weeks later the three drug dealers sort of brace me up at Sam's, telling me how lucky I was they didn't want to fight. Yeah yeah yeah, blah blah blah. I made a big show of "like I was scared", and that was the end of that. I never did figure out why they didn't just rush me and my buddy. Damn strange.
Don't get me wrong, that's not the usual happening at Yosemite Sam's, but an example of the far end of the spectrum. Like the guy from Beaver OK that was always humping for a fight there. He bulged up on a biker friend of mine named Tiny. Pulled the old "I hear you wanna kick my ass" shit. He got as far as "I hear you.." when Tiny hit him in the forehead. I swear it sounded like a ball bat on a water melon. The dude from Beaver put up both fists, then just kinda melted onto the floor. Tiny said "kick my ass?" finishing his line for him. That was the last time I saw that guy in there. Funny
Have a highly uncommon day, all y'all. And remember, what happened in New York on this date. Make is so no one forgets.
Hugs, kisses and pats on the ass for the ladies. Fellers, you're stuck with a firm handshake
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Ahhh, the thrill
I've been sleeping way later than I like, and napping some, which throws my sleep patterns way off. Yesterday I skipped the nap thing, even though it was so close to a losing battle, and managed to fall asleep before 2 AM. I woke up at 0530. Still late for me, but better than it has been. I'll try and pass out earlier tonight, and hopefully get back onto my daily schedule that I like to follow. That's part of the reason I've not been blogging daily. If it's too late in the AM I get forty kinds of distracted and just can't seem to get it done. Remember the blog about more "focus"? Well, yeah, but I focus less on this and more on getting my daily routine done. I don't get up early enough, the blog suffers. That may be the reason why I get grumpy on the days I don't get up early, this being some of my personal therapy.
The thrill of suddenly having bad stomach acid problems. After all, why should my stomach be exempt from helping me have a wonderful day? Yesterday, I got to feeling pretty good, and was tuned up for The Boy's HS open house/meet the teacher thing last night. Last year, after the one at the Freshman HS, I was thinking "only three more trips, and I'm finished with this open house crap.". Little did I know that a year later I'd really be wanting to get back to the Open House things, right up through his Senior year and seeing him graduate. Damn. So, anyway, I was feeling pumped up. Suddenly, a vurp. Oh man, it's really acidy. And knowing what's coming next I grab the suction and hit it's go button. Sure enough, full blown, out the nose vomit. Oh joy. I get THAT stopped, and the coughing comes next. At least it follows a routine I can keep up with, so none of it's a surprise. The problem lies in that I can't keep from aspirating what ever it is I vomit. So I cough until it clears out up my trachea. And pretty violently as well. That always makes for at least one "cough until you puke" things. Which now, leads to hacking up a nice shot of blood as well. I believe it's either my throat being raw, or Baxter sliding down my esophagus. Either way it's spooky to those who've not had that happen, or seen it happen. Old hat to me now. If it keeps up, I'll sweat it, if not....meh, big deal.
We went to The Boy's Open House and met his teachers. I like at least half of them already. The World History instructor is pretty cool, so far. His Chemistry instructor is new, but seems to have a grasp as to what she's do, which is nice. And she's pretty cute. German 2, seems like a fun class. The instructor smiles a lot and is encouraging to the students, and I like her approach to teaching a foreign language. German is tough, almost as tough as Gaelic, which I gave up on as a self directed language course. I r not smart enuff to get Gaelic without help. Literature teacher seems pretty hip, and has him writing some pretty good stuff already. A hidden talent in Coronet Boy (who doubles as Tuba Boy for marching band), I'm impressed. The elective he took is Digital Media and Imaging. I like that instructor as well. This is her first full year teaching after being a sub for a few years. And after being in the corporate world as well. I'd say she has her work cut out for her. She says about half her students had no idea what a mouse was, let along a lap top. I was slightly surprised as she was explaining how many of her students had never worked with a computer at all. Although, I believe having a computer is something we all take for granted. Remember 20 years ago owning a home PC wasn't as widely accepted as it is now. Time flies when you're a slow typer!
The thrill is what you make of it in any aspect. It was a thrill, not just a "Do I haft?" thing to go to The Boy's open house. A thrill because I'm able to do it, even with having to suction my mouth every now and then. I'm out amongst the folk. That's kind of a thrill. More so if I'm driving. I think some of the people here are looking to win the next Darwin Award by separating themselves from the gene pool. The sad thing is, they usually take someone with them. So there's a thrill in driving anywhere in Midland "I's from Tekas, I drive's like I see fit" attitude behind the wheel. And before anyone says "Oh, people drive like that everywhere", a reminder that Midland Co. has about 200,000 people tops, and in total has killed 33 people in wrecks this year, so far. Midland itself is about 150K, and 16 deaths within the city limits. They drive for shit here, always have. So, yes, it's a thrill to get out on the streets.
It's a thrill to watch my grandson play. Kids are hip. And yeah, my daughter is doing a good job raising him. He can be a bit lippy, but he's smart, so that's kind of expected. All four of mine could be from time to time. But that wasn't hard to handle. So the big girl is doing what she can, and does it very well I believe. It's a thrill to get up the AM and get ready to do anything. There's going to come a time when I will wake up and wish I just could stay asleep. The thrill then will be finding the motivation to let you all in on the fun and games of the closer to Critical Mass game. Stand assured, when I do hit Critical Mass, there won't be a blog to follow. Not unless The Lovely or one of our Minions writes it. I may have to make sure that happens, just so the blog comes a complete journey, and not just stuck in one place. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'll try and get one of the fan to do one final blog, for Critical Mass.
It's a thrill to go through a day when the neck and back isn't just thumping at me for fun. Most of yesterday was that way, until mid afternoon. I was making plans to go for a very late evening walk. Just to get out after dark and walk a bit so see what's shaking in my hood after dark. Not much, but it's a lot cooler at that time and the heat bothers me now like never before. I wonder if I have some kind of sickness or something that makes me tired a lot and really makes me hate the heat? Probably.
The neck and back pain is getting worse. I'm beginning to wonder, and I need a second opinion since the fam sees me every day, on whether or not my neck is swelling up. I'm thinking it is. It feels like it, and my mouth seems more full. That could be fluid build up since I haven't been to lymphedema therapy as often as I need to. I'm going to check about getting in for the next month. So as to keep ahead of the fluid retention as long as I can. And it helps relax me some, and that's always a plus
It's a thrill that my SLP had her baby yesterday. While I am going to miss having her help, the other lady is going to give me treatments. That will be a thrill in itself. It's be like having to start over and first meeting my therapist. That should be fun. Or at least different. Both, I think, will bring different approaches to all that I've got going on and that can't be anything but a help. I hope. It's a thrill because I'm not certain how much longer I can do this. If it gets to the point that none of the SLP therapy is helping, I'll stop. There's no use continuing a losing game where there are people out there who could use my time for a way to get back to as normal a life as they can muster. That and there's no use having the insurance pay for something with no end result. Right now it's a maintain procedure, I'll settle for that. My SLP is wonderful at what she does. It's gratifying for me to see her work. And watch her get as excited when I make headway as I do. Neither one of us shows that excitement very often, but I think we can see it in how our eyes light up. I know hers do, I hope mine do as well. I hope she's resting well with the new baby, and I hope I can catch up with her soon
Nope, the Thrill Isn't Gone, Baby. It's different than what it was, but not gone. I repeat this a lot, and I figure it is getting old, but tough shit, my blog. It's the little things. The stuff I took for granted that are the most thrilling now. Odd that.
Go forth and bring happiness to yourself! There isn't another damn soul on earth that's here to ensure you're happy. Ya gotta do that on your own. So, get after it, for shit sake. There's a day brewing up out there. Carpe Jugulum!
The thrill of suddenly having bad stomach acid problems. After all, why should my stomach be exempt from helping me have a wonderful day? Yesterday, I got to feeling pretty good, and was tuned up for The Boy's HS open house/meet the teacher thing last night. Last year, after the one at the Freshman HS, I was thinking "only three more trips, and I'm finished with this open house crap.". Little did I know that a year later I'd really be wanting to get back to the Open House things, right up through his Senior year and seeing him graduate. Damn. So, anyway, I was feeling pumped up. Suddenly, a vurp. Oh man, it's really acidy. And knowing what's coming next I grab the suction and hit it's go button. Sure enough, full blown, out the nose vomit. Oh joy. I get THAT stopped, and the coughing comes next. At least it follows a routine I can keep up with, so none of it's a surprise. The problem lies in that I can't keep from aspirating what ever it is I vomit. So I cough until it clears out up my trachea. And pretty violently as well. That always makes for at least one "cough until you puke" things. Which now, leads to hacking up a nice shot of blood as well. I believe it's either my throat being raw, or Baxter sliding down my esophagus. Either way it's spooky to those who've not had that happen, or seen it happen. Old hat to me now. If it keeps up, I'll sweat it, if not....meh, big deal.
We went to The Boy's Open House and met his teachers. I like at least half of them already. The World History instructor is pretty cool, so far. His Chemistry instructor is new, but seems to have a grasp as to what she's do, which is nice. And she's pretty cute. German 2, seems like a fun class. The instructor smiles a lot and is encouraging to the students, and I like her approach to teaching a foreign language. German is tough, almost as tough as Gaelic, which I gave up on as a self directed language course. I r not smart enuff to get Gaelic without help. Literature teacher seems pretty hip, and has him writing some pretty good stuff already. A hidden talent in Coronet Boy (who doubles as Tuba Boy for marching band), I'm impressed. The elective he took is Digital Media and Imaging. I like that instructor as well. This is her first full year teaching after being a sub for a few years. And after being in the corporate world as well. I'd say she has her work cut out for her. She says about half her students had no idea what a mouse was, let along a lap top. I was slightly surprised as she was explaining how many of her students had never worked with a computer at all. Although, I believe having a computer is something we all take for granted. Remember 20 years ago owning a home PC wasn't as widely accepted as it is now. Time flies when you're a slow typer!
The thrill is what you make of it in any aspect. It was a thrill, not just a "Do I haft?" thing to go to The Boy's open house. A thrill because I'm able to do it, even with having to suction my mouth every now and then. I'm out amongst the folk. That's kind of a thrill. More so if I'm driving. I think some of the people here are looking to win the next Darwin Award by separating themselves from the gene pool. The sad thing is, they usually take someone with them. So there's a thrill in driving anywhere in Midland "I's from Tekas, I drive's like I see fit" attitude behind the wheel. And before anyone says "Oh, people drive like that everywhere", a reminder that Midland Co. has about 200,000 people tops, and in total has killed 33 people in wrecks this year, so far. Midland itself is about 150K, and 16 deaths within the city limits. They drive for shit here, always have. So, yes, it's a thrill to get out on the streets.
It's a thrill to watch my grandson play. Kids are hip. And yeah, my daughter is doing a good job raising him. He can be a bit lippy, but he's smart, so that's kind of expected. All four of mine could be from time to time. But that wasn't hard to handle. So the big girl is doing what she can, and does it very well I believe. It's a thrill to get up the AM and get ready to do anything. There's going to come a time when I will wake up and wish I just could stay asleep. The thrill then will be finding the motivation to let you all in on the fun and games of the closer to Critical Mass game. Stand assured, when I do hit Critical Mass, there won't be a blog to follow. Not unless The Lovely or one of our Minions writes it. I may have to make sure that happens, just so the blog comes a complete journey, and not just stuck in one place. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'll try and get one of the fan to do one final blog, for Critical Mass.
It's a thrill to go through a day when the neck and back isn't just thumping at me for fun. Most of yesterday was that way, until mid afternoon. I was making plans to go for a very late evening walk. Just to get out after dark and walk a bit so see what's shaking in my hood after dark. Not much, but it's a lot cooler at that time and the heat bothers me now like never before. I wonder if I have some kind of sickness or something that makes me tired a lot and really makes me hate the heat? Probably.
The neck and back pain is getting worse. I'm beginning to wonder, and I need a second opinion since the fam sees me every day, on whether or not my neck is swelling up. I'm thinking it is. It feels like it, and my mouth seems more full. That could be fluid build up since I haven't been to lymphedema therapy as often as I need to. I'm going to check about getting in for the next month. So as to keep ahead of the fluid retention as long as I can. And it helps relax me some, and that's always a plus
It's a thrill that my SLP had her baby yesterday. While I am going to miss having her help, the other lady is going to give me treatments. That will be a thrill in itself. It's be like having to start over and first meeting my therapist. That should be fun. Or at least different. Both, I think, will bring different approaches to all that I've got going on and that can't be anything but a help. I hope. It's a thrill because I'm not certain how much longer I can do this. If it gets to the point that none of the SLP therapy is helping, I'll stop. There's no use continuing a losing game where there are people out there who could use my time for a way to get back to as normal a life as they can muster. That and there's no use having the insurance pay for something with no end result. Right now it's a maintain procedure, I'll settle for that. My SLP is wonderful at what she does. It's gratifying for me to see her work. And watch her get as excited when I make headway as I do. Neither one of us shows that excitement very often, but I think we can see it in how our eyes light up. I know hers do, I hope mine do as well. I hope she's resting well with the new baby, and I hope I can catch up with her soon
Nope, the Thrill Isn't Gone, Baby. It's different than what it was, but not gone. I repeat this a lot, and I figure it is getting old, but tough shit, my blog. It's the little things. The stuff I took for granted that are the most thrilling now. Odd that.
Go forth and bring happiness to yourself! There isn't another damn soul on earth that's here to ensure you're happy. Ya gotta do that on your own. So, get after it, for shit sake. There's a day brewing up out there. Carpe Jugulum!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)