Boy howdy, sometimes....

   Boy howdy! Sometimes sleep just ain't gonna be there regardless of how badly I want it to be there. I thought I'd try an sleep in my own bed last night. It's a nice place to sleep, all soft and comfortable. I'm not sure why it wasn't so happy a place last night, and that could have been a coincidence, but I woke up coughing.  That went on for sometime, then when I got myself all settled down and ready to go to sleep, I was wide awake. Honestly I think it was 70% bed, 30% me. After all, I end up on my right side when I sleep in the bed. That cuts down on the hacking, or used to, but also makes it a bit uncomfortable in the long run. I end up trying to work out a way that I can sleep in the bed, and bring all the other drugs I'm supposed to take to good use. That gets harder to do. So I  end up back in the recliner, where I can drop off and not even notice I've done it. Like this morning. Wide awake at 0330, did my drug business, sat down at 0425 to feed. I didn't make it to feeding time. I fell right to sleep and didn't wake up until 0505. NOW I can feed and sit around awaiting time to take a shower and get ready for my day. I would have rather gone to SBucks to have coffee with my buddies, but that wasn't how it was going to work this morning. Rats.

  So, I wrote about how Monday was a really good day until around 1100. Yesterday was weird. Normally my voice is really soft now, and kind of raspy. Yesterday it was like puberty all over again. I'd have flashes of a really strong voice, followed by long moments where I'd just as soon had kept my mouth shut. Weird. In some ways weird. In other ways probably not. I know that it's more difficult for me to speak where people can understand me, including family. So I talk less and write way more. Why? Because it's frustrating for both of us if I'm hard to understand. And I hear "I'm sorry, I didn't get that" an awful lot. It's okay, because it's not your fault if you can't understand me. In my mind I hear it perfectly clearly. Unfortunately it comes out all garbled and shit. It's frustrating for the person I'm talking with, and about half embarrassing for myself. Yeah yeah yeah, I know. I shouldn't be embarrassed by something I can't change readily. But I get that way, so there.
  The rest of the day wasn't so weird. It's more like it was last week. I wore out quickly, was short of breath, got cramps (more water, bozo), and hurt just a little more. I was back at an 8 early on in the day, but like usual that backs off and settles in about a 4. Yesterday it settled in around a 6. So yes, I took some extra pain meds and it finally laid down all together, and stayed that way until this morning when I woke up from sleep and coughing, and nap, where it's about a 6 now. I took some pain meds first thing when I did the daily drug regimen, so I got a jump on the pain this morning. Not a bad thing. I will start doing that. I know that this is going to be part of the course the cancer is running, and I'm going to have to cheat my way around just to keep it simmering on the back burner. I feel, though, like it's just waiting to make another big run at growth. I've not felt that in a while, so I'm fairly certain the odds are in the cancer's favor. We'll see, though, maybe I've scared it. HA!

  People still tend to look at me funny. I do have that  kinda "stare at me" visage. But the adults are the ones that crack me up. Kids, they don't give a shit, and they'll flat out ask what happened to me. I have to be careful with the kids though. I don't want to lie, and I don't want to get too technical either. Riding that thin line is sometimes a challenge. "I got sick, and to help make me get better they had to do a lot of surgery and take out a lot of parts in my mouth." That tends to work pretty well with most kids. I get a lot of follow up  like "Will you get better?",   No, I won't get any better. "Wow, that's too bad", the it's off to play. Adults would serve themselves better it they acted more like kids around me. Some get very self righteous "I guess that will teach you for not living a Christian lifestyle".   Odd, you're being a judgmental prick, I wonder why God hasn't struck you down as well?  That tends to slow them up just a bit. Adults tend to think they have all the answers, where as kids are pretty sure they don't have the right answers up in the tree house.  Often, though, they do have the right questions. And are pretty damn direct with them. Bless their little hearts, I hope I can answer their questions about what happens to me without scaring them. I know that my own grandson and I get along better every day. Mostly because we are used to one another. I know he can understand a little of what I say, but not everything, and isn't afraid to look me in the eye and say "I can't understand what you're saying".  No sweat, I write it out for him.

   It's getting close the time of year when I got diagnosed and went on Short Term Disability. Yep, one year ago around November 1. Crazy how time flies. I need to get back out to my field office with cupcakes or something to celebrate. It's hard to believe it's been a year. I was, at the time, figuring that chemotherapy would stop it flat out again. Turns out no, it's used to that stuff, and all the chemo did was make me miserable and shrink the tumor in my throat down enough so I didn't choke to death in the interim. I was still pretty gung ho a few weeks down the road when the explained about the surgery. The doc even explained how if they didn't get it all, that there wasn't much they could do for me this time, since I'd had so much radiation the first time. He explained how all that would be left was palliative care. He also said that had a pretty thin chance of happening. Turned out that the thin chance came back around to visit and set itself in motion. The rat bastard. Oh well, this is what it is, and there's no use in cursing the dark because I forgot my candle.  Life goes on. Sometimes it goes on for me pretty damn well, other times it goes on for me like a truck load of bullshit. It just keeps piling up. You'd think it would topple, wouldn't you? Anyway, it's back, it's almost a year later, and my time is slipping away faster than I'd like it to. I'd like to wake up one morning, be able to swallow anything, not bleed for a day or two and be able to move around very freely without help. THAT would be cool. I dream of that once in  a while. Not often, but enough to want to keep waking up so I can prove him wrong.

 Book of Rock: "This is too hard, I can't do it". There's a load of bullshit for ya. Sure, sometimes there are things that can't be fixed. They are usually things out of our control. Most stuff though, we can fix, or work through, or go around. First you have to use that lump on top of your neck for something other than a hat rack. Think first. Sort out the problem in priorities and got at it a bit at a time. Generally, it can be fixed. But saying it's "Too Hard" kills that chance before you even get started.

  Enjoy watching a bit of nature today. Yes, nature includes people. We are the funniest creatures on God's green earth. Need a laugh, watch people]

Yep, hugs and shit, still

Aint this some shit

 Monday started off great! I had a little limp, probably because I was up and walking around Sunday carrying a two year old. Not much weight, really, but a proving package of how much I've lost muscle and stamina wise. In and of itself, the limp wasn't jack shit. What was cool, though, was the fact I hadn't felt as good in the morning as I had in the month or so. I was pain free, okay, pain was at a 4, but for lately that's about half what I normally have. Even with the increase in pain med patches. It eases off most days down to a two or three. But Monday, wow, I was feeling great. Went to lymphedema therapy and had less fluid backed up than I'd had in months. After working that out and getting it moving, I had zero pain. Why, I felt right as rain! That was around 0900. I still felt damn good come 1000 hrs. Then at around 1100 hrs I began to feel strange. Not woozy strange, just off a bit.

  By 1130, I was getting some pain back. My voice, which had gotten a lot stronger, was back down to a whisper, and hurt to use it. This is bullshit. Sure enough, over the next two hours I felt worse and worse. My pain went up to a seven, so I took a little break out pain med. That trimmed it down to a four, which is more than bearable for me. Voice got weaker, and by the end of the day, I was hacking up a little blood now and then. Nothing like Friday, Saturday or Sunday, but still a bit. Damn, here I thought I was going to get a day where I didn't have any bullshit to deal with. Where Liz and I, since she took the day off, could do something together. Nope, because when I get to feeling badly, I tend to drop off and sleep. Which I did. Liz went out shopping, and I should have gone with her, but to over come the limp I'd have had to taken the damn walker, and that just frosts my cupcakes. So, I can't  blame the cancer for not going with Liz, that's all on me and my stubborn vanity. But, it was starting to take it's toll when I made that decision.

 By taking it's toll, it had kind of knocked my moral in the nuts by starting back in with the pain after waking up at 0400 without a lot of pain and feeling really great. Naw, Cancer isn't going to give Rock an entire day to feel semi normal, that ain't gonna happen. It takes it's toll by making my right leg ache more than it was, causing me to limp worse around the house, and eventually damn near shuffle. Fortunately it's not affected my equilibrium, so I don't have to sweat falling down, or being dizzy. By taking it's toll, it tossed on enough of everything, just enough, that I kept nodding off. That's no fun when you're out shopping with your wife. I used to hate shopping. Now I kinda look at it like something Liz and I can do together. It takes it's toll because at some point yesterday, I let it get to me. I can't allow that very often, and I missed when it started, or I might have been able to stop it from bugging me. I hate when the damn cancer gets cocky enough it thinks it can get to me and bring me down. Fuck me if it didn't get to me yesterday. That's not something that happens, because I won't let it. Maybe I was feeling a bit too euphoric about having a good day and just let the obvious signs slip past. Either way, I let cancer have it's way with me mentally. That shit ain't happening again.

  In my case at least, the cancer can't have me mentally. I won't let it drag my dick into the dirt. Once that starts and if you don't get a grip on it it'll kill ya. The damn stuff is killing off my body a little bit at a time. Silver lining: I'm in a position, given the wide time frame, that I can get all the stuff that needs finished to make life easier for Liz when I do die. Therefore, I can not and will not allow the cancer to get into my head and sow it's seeds of doubt. It's a sneaky bastard, but I'm sneakier. The cancer just doesn't realize what an adversary it has in me. So, when I finally noticed it had gotten to me, I turned that around and in a few hours felt more like myself than Captain Piss n Moan. It lost again. It put up a nice flanking move to get inside my head, and was real close to getting a handhold, but it missed.  At the very least, this is how I beat cancer even when it kills my body off. I won't have lost because it never got to me mentally. It never drove me down to the point I don't care anymore. That's how I win.

 Being on that damn emotional roller coaster isn't doing you any good either. Feeling too high about the highs, and getting lower than low when those times come will wear your body down just as fast and the cancer. The trick is to allow a bit of the highs, and a bit of the lows, so when averaged out, you keep a pretty flat line as far as your mental state goes. I won't lie to you, I get down just like everyone else, but I don't let it bug me for more than an hour or two. It's inescapable, a person is going to get down in the mouth. It's our nature. It's why we have feelings. Being down in the mouth happens, the trick is to kick it in the nuts and walk off after a couple of hours. That and being able to recognize when that's happening. Sometimes it's real easy to spot. You get that "I don't care" attitude about everything. Which is different than an "I could give a shit" attitude. I'll let you all sort out the difference, but there is one. Then you get the "I don't wanna get up to feed myself". If it's gone that far, your depressed and may have more trouble getting out from under that bus, but it can be done. I won't say it's easy, because it's not, and being able to do that kind of work on your own isn't for everyone. If you need the help, get it. Cancer thrives on misery. Don't let it get another stepping stone by not getting help with depression if you need it.

   I'm wired differently, maybe, but I don't ever not see the best in every situation. Like going terminal. I see I have the chance to get done the things I'd put off for almost 5 years. Those are now finished. I see the chance to make amends where I might need to. I hope those are about finished. It's a time to reconnect with old friends and new, and maybe show them there are other ways to see your life. If I can do that with one person, then I've beaten cancer with that one little step.
 I see life as an opportunity to learn something new. Every day of every year. There are so many things to see, touch, experience in every day life, I don't know how a person can miss them. I've been within 10' of an elk herd, just sitting quietly in the bushes, watching them bed down the calves, and sentries. It's neat. You have to be damn quiet, not move, and hope the wind stays at your face. I've watched High Horizons for well over 40 years, and still am amazed at the amount of detail you can see in them. I don't see them as much here as I did in SW Kansas, but they still happen. Damn amazing to see cars rolling down the highway when you know for a fact they are 25-30 miles away. Cool shit. I see somethings more clearly, and other things I took for granted forever and a day. It's nice to see things with fresh eyes. It's a damn shame that I had to get terminal cancer to start looking more closely at my surroundings. Not the obvious surroundings, those I always paid attention to. You know, like the guy moping around a parking lot, or the lone wolf at a bar who you can tell thinks he's tougher than he is, especially after 4 or 5 drinks. But the stuff that matters. Such as how quickly the colors of the sky change with the coming sunrise, or sunset for that matter. The little looks that everyone in my family has over things they like or don't like. And each one is a little different. My oldest daughter's booming laugh, the youngest daughter's subdued laugh. My youngest son's way deep giggle, and my oldest son's in between all of those other kids laughs. Lilting conversation. Sometimes even just hearing their breathing. That doesn't happen often, because my tinnitus won't let me hear that anymore. But there are days it lays down enough for me to catch that.
  I can't work, but I have the chance now to go back over some of the things I'd been working on and toward before I got sick. I can work out problems with the mechanics of it in my head. That's a cool mental exercise. I went out to the field office once and was talking to my boss about how to improve the pumper to Well Tech relationship. We'd talked about it before, and I'd laid out a rough plan before I got sick. Stuck it in a desk drawer and had planned on fine tuning it when the field slowed down. I missed that chance, but the boss hadn't forgotten. And using his ideas and mine both, they are making that Well Tech job into what should be the company standard for being an "Instrument Tech 1". It's a lot more work than what some see a Well Tech doing. But I see it as finally defining the key roll a Well Tech can play in being an active aid to both the pumpers and the Assistant field foreman. It would make the decision process so much easier, and I think will improve production over time. And that, boys and girls, should be every pumper, well tech, foreman, field foreman, and supervisor goal. To produce more oil with less expense. It's possible and can be done

 So that's all my bloviating for one day. Y'all go forth and be happy. Even when it's bad, it's secretly good in there someplace. Go find that and you're moral and the moral of everyone around you will improve

 Bones and Nachos

Last Big Road trip....maybe (HA)

 Yes, it's been a few days since I wrote anything in the blog. I was traveling and hanging out at a Highland Game Saturday and part of the day Sunday, then the road trip home. This time wasn't so bad, 5 hours each way. The worst was being caught on I-35 north on a Friday at 5:30. Took an hour to get 15 miles. Sucks, yes it does, it sucks. Although, in all honesty, it was still safer driving in Fort Worth, than it is driving in Midland County. Sure, there are bad drivers in Fort Worth, don't get me wrong, but it's the size of Midland County that makes it less safe. There's no need for the peckerwoods out here to drive like the do. That makes them plain, simple, egotistic, assholes.
  Let's get the gross shit out of the way early. I know I've said I'd be open and honest with everything that my cancer is causing. I have been and I will continue to do so. Friday on the way to Argyle, where we were staying, I started to hack blood. I'd driven a while, let Liz drive, and right before she stopped at a rest area, I hacked up nothing but lovely bright red blood. Not out of my mouth, but straight up the trach tube. I asked if she wanted me to drive, and she did. So, while she was in the potty, I suctioned out my mouth. There too, nothing but bright red blood. I snagged another "coughing towel" and settled in to drive. I only coughed a few times over the next 2 hours, but it was all blood. I was getting a bit anxious about all the bleeding, since it normally clears up in 30 minutes or so. But, after settling in at Argyle, where we were staying, it slowed down and finally quit about 2100. That was three and a half hours of bleeding. Which sounds like a lot, and kinda is, but not in the amount. It wasn't like I'd blown an artery or anything. Anyway, it was the same thing Saturday and Sunday. Just in lesser amounts and not in such long stretches. I'm getting used to the cancer making me bleed. Okay, okay, MOSTLY used to it making me bleed. Even my body surprises me once in a while. Something else for the "First Time That Shit Has Ever Happened" column. I dozed off driving Sunday. If it hadn't been for the "Buzz" strips on the shoulder, it might have been a terrible mistake. So, that's not gonna happen ever again. Not only because I'm probably not making anymore road trips, but because I'm smart enough to not let my driver seat ego override my "stay alive" common sense. I'll pull over the minute I start feeling sleepy. Even if that's never been a problem before, it is now.

  So, on to the fun shit. We made it to Argyle in reasonably good shape. I drove from just west of Weatherford in to Argyle. Yes, I was still coughing up blood, but not so badly I couldn't drive. Liz needed a break, and I was wide awake. We got to Rod and Susan Anderson's, and started a visit that was way to long in coming. Life and shit kept us from visiting for a couple of years. I hope that Liz does a bit better than that after my time is up. Liz and Susan talked for quite a while. Everyone was real patient with me while I wrote out my answers and wise ass remarks. Mostly I listened. I've mentioned before that to me, now, it's not so much what's being said, it's all the nuances of listening to a conversation that is what I enjoy now. We reminisced, talked about now, and I answered a lot of questions. I hope to everyone's satisfaction. I slept fitfully Friday night, but finally got a stretch of a couple of hours. Woke up at my usual 0430, medicated, fed myself, and took about an hour nap. Liz and I headed for the Women's Team Challenge Highland Games in Fort Worth, and got there in plenty of time. It was different for me to be there so early and not have to help set up. Normally I'd be ass deep in the middle of things helping get the trigs, the height event poles, and little stuff like that set up. Weird just to sit back and watch. Liz went to eat. Gave me sometime to gauge how much I was bleeding. Yep, started again Saturday before we got in the car to drive. I bled off and on all day Saturday. But that didn't detract or dissuade me from what else was going on.

 Shannon Wait, Hal and Pattie Cummins, Michelle Brien, my cousin Amy and her husband Bill, and Tom Godfrey all came to see me at the games. I'd not seen Amy in probably 20 years. She and her husband are very nice folks. It's a shame I didn't get to know him better. We had a nice visit. I really enjoyed that. Man, talk about old folks day at the Highland Games! Shannon, Hal and Pattie, Michelle and Tom and I talked and laughed for hours! Catching up, showing off kids. Remembering silly shit we did in High School. All the stories the remembered about me were totally made up, of course, since I was such a straight arrow in school......NOT. It was great. Tom drove from Tulsa to Fort Worth and was talking about wheeling it right back. I'm glad they all went to eat and convinced him to stay over at Shannon's place. There were a lot of questions asked and answered. Mostly, though, it was like we'd just all pulled into the Pizza Hut parking lot in LK, back in 1978, and were sitting on the hoods of our cars shooting the shit. It amazes me how easily we can slip right back into that kind of easy conversation. It's gotta be a gift. Facebook allows us to stay connected, but it's no where near the dynamic of real conversation. And it comes so easily with all the people I know. We pick up where we left off, and move along as if there wasn't such a time difference as really exists between our meetings. Lots of laughter. Shannon, who's gone through her own ordeal with cancer, kept looking at me and mouthing "are you tired?". Of Course I said "no", and I didn't let on that I was bleeding a lot more and really was tired. No way I was going to slow up the conversation, or have my friends that traveled worry about me. It was, by the way, my birthday. If I'd said "Yeah, and I'm bleeding too" that would have spoiled the perfect day I was having. I'd not had that much fun on a birthday in ages. Liz got to meet my buds, and they her. There were a ton of lady athletes and their spouses that came by to see me and Liz as well. And I think I  managed to get the Games a few more fans. My friends got really interested in what was going on. It was nice to be able to explain it to them. And also hear, after I told them the weights of the various implements for men and women, "You did all that? You're crazy!".  Yep and yep. I am and I am.

 So, back to Argyle we go. The games finished way early. The ladies went fast for the number of athletes, and including award ceremonies, we were out at around 1530. Headed back toward Argyle, and yes, I was impatient in traffic again. Got there and relaxed with some chow and talk. This time I was really beaten down, so I fell asleep way early. To the best of my recollection, I only woke 3 times the entire night. Coughed a bit, then right back out. I ended up with a stretch of four hours solid sleep. Did my morning constitutional, shot the breeze with Rod a bit, left them a thank you note, and off we went for the games and to see my son. Chance, his girl Stephanie, and her son Wyatt were meeting us there. They aren't married yet, but to me Stephanie and Wyatt are family. She's a wonderful woman, and Chance has his kindred spirit in her, I believe. Wyatt is just a cool 2 year old. He was a little shy around me. But after we walked around and saw the guys throw stuff, he kinda warmed up and was fun to be around. Chance, Stephanie and I talked a bit. Mostly I just like being around them. They are easy company, and that's a good thing. Chance and I are at the age when not only am I dad, I'm a friend now, too. That's the damnable shame of the cancer killing me. Just when our ages are coming to the point when I can be something more than a parent, it's getting taken from me. That sucks ass.
 Shannon came out to visit again as well. She's a good person, and I enjoy her company as well. I got a chance to say good bye to a lot of my Highland Game family. Something I needed to do for myself. I'm going to miss them all

 Sarah, my oldest daughter ran in a 12 mile, 26 obstacle run called The Tough Mudder in Dallas. She'd been training for it, but as I thought, she hadn't enough time to train as well as she needed. She finished,  hurt both her knees in a fall. One I suspect is sprained. She did the entire 12 miles and only skipped two obstacles. My son says she started with a SWAT team and some other military type guys, and finished about 20 minutes behind them, and that was walking the last half mile or so on bum legs. Damn right I'm proud of her!!! She says she's going to train harder for the next one. I figure she will and she'll finish that in better shape. I'm about ready to bust at the seams with pride.

 I'm proud of all my kids. In their own way they conquer obstacles thrown up by just being alive. I like that, and know they will continue to do that the rest of their lives.

  To my Highland Game family. Thanks for letting me be a part of the unique athletics that is Scottish Heavy Athletes. You're a wonderful group of people, and have enriched my life in directions you'll never notice, by just being yourselves.

  The blog can't do justice to my friends, family, and everyone else who made this last birthday a great day in my life. There's no way I have the words to explain it to everyone. Nor the time, because each person has a story with me that I could relate, and how they made my life more full. Y'all will just have to take my word for it.

  Book Of Rock: Let someone know how much they mean to you, today. Don't put it off. Even if it sounds corny or silly, it's not if it comes from your heart. Something I didn't do enough of, and something I'm fighting to get finished before my life is over.


Hugs and Shit

Keeping my mouth shut

 Well, with the family drama over the last couple of days off my chest, I find myself back doing what I probably should have done in the first place. Kept my mouth shut. I've been pretty good at that for forty years or so, you'd think I'd know better. But I'm stubborn. That should pretty well wrap up this topic for another 40 years or so

  Going to Fort Worth today on what will more than likely be my last big (if 350 miles or so is big) road trip. Going to watch the Women's Team Challenge Highland Games, and The Celtober Throw Down on Saturday and Sunday respectively. How long I can stay at Sunday's games is dependent on how tired and worn out I am after Saturday. Saturday, though, I'm hoping to see several friends and family at the games. It's not a full blown Festival, but is a set of games with very good athletes. That being said, it would be great to see friends, and have them cheer the ladies on with me. I tell you straight from the heart that nothing helps you throw better than a crowd cheering for your efforts. It's a nice thing, and great for your moral. It's like having something besides besting a PR or your competitors, it's like adding a reason to throw farther. The crowd is a good motivator.
 Unfortunately, I'm getting weaker as time goes along. Regardless of what I'm doing to slow that down, it marches forward. Liz got me two handicapped parking space placards for the cars. There's something I never thought I'd have to use. Even before I got cancer again, I figured that if I had to have those to park somewhere, I'd give the keys to the car up. Well, oops, that's not gonna happen. But I will use the placards. Why? Because I'm lazy that's why! HA!! Not exactly true, but close enough. It is nice to not have to rely on my right leg holding up long enough that I'm not down to a snail pace walking, just to get inside a business. That just frosts my cupcakes. Having a major body part like that wear out so quickly on me. Missing pieces or not, it should know better than to lie down on me like that. It just won't listen, dang it. I'm contemplating taking the walker that I got when I first left MD Anderson. I only used it for a couple weeks after we got home. Probably should have longer, but it steamed me to have to rely on the walker for stability. Never mind that my right leg was still bruised and tender, and adjusting to the piece of quadricep they cut out being gone. Oh no, don't be caught with a walker! My vanity knows no bounds. I suppose I better take it just in case. Damn it.

   My darn skin around my tracheotomy is paper thin. Part of that is the way my neck changed after the surgeries. I was supposed to be away from the trach tube months ago. But with the second and third surgery so much damage was done that it left me unable to swallow. They weren't going to put in a permanent trach either. Because right up until my first reconstructive surgery and finding cancer again, I was making slow but steady progress on the swallowing and speaking part of my recovery. That's in a large part, thanks to the efforts of Michelle Trant, SLP. She helped me find the drive to get better and helped shine a light toward the end of the tunnel for me. How to work around the permanent damage, and make the rest of what was left to me work better. I truly thank her for that.  Had the cancer not returned, I feel pretty confident I'd be swallowing at least pudding and things like that by now, and might even have the trach out and healed up. Alas, that is not to be. And within the last couple of weeks my voice is getting weaker and harder to understand. I don't consider what Michelle and I did as wasted time at all. It was worth while, in that I gained a lot of self confidence that I didn't have. It helped me get out among the public, which I didn't really want to do anymore, what with the trach tube, feeding tube, and the inability to speak. Now I don't really care. People wanna stare, or hide their eyes, or look at me like I'm a freak, that's fine. I have this nice spot on my white Scot/Irish ass they can kiss. I am what I am. This is all part of me giving my best fight possible to beating the cancer. None of it is a failure, it's all a win. The cancer will take my body, but it can't take that part of my that said, "Yes, Doc, let's do what we have to do the beat it." I win regardless.

   My hospice nurse says my lungs are not noisy. That's a good thing. Perhaps all this blood is from irritation from the coughing. Which irritates my lungs and throat and makes me cough, which makes everything bleed, which irritates my lungs and throat and makes me cough. Well, you see where it's going. I'm not so sure that there isn't some cancer cell growth going on in my lungs, or near them somewhere. In the last couple of weeks I find myself being winded much quicker that usual. I can recover fairly quickly, but I have to be setting to do that. I will huff and wheeze like a leaky steam engine as long as I'm standing. I don't know if that has anything to do with my legs getting weaker and demanding more oxygen to keep me upright or not. But it's something. I figure it's all part of the cancer advancing. At any rate, I cough for more blood as of late than I did in the past, and it lasts longer. Knowing this was going to be the case, and not really knowing when that might rear it's ugly head is the thing that bugs me. If I'd gotten even a ballpark guess at what stage I could expect the bleeding to increase, that would have helped me prepare better. Guess work and I don't get along well. I'd much rather have even a wide margin of error, than now answer at all. I can see the Doctors position as well. If they give X for a time period and it turns out Y was the time, and Y was much less, some ass weasel would sue them. Such is the sad thing about today's society. Had they told me X, and it turned out to be Y on a shorter time frame, I'd stick my tongue out at them and say "Ha ha, you were wrong, neener neener". but that's me

  I've tried to get things squared away with people. If I've missed anyone, it's not for lack of trying. I've made mistakes like every other normal person, and I hope I've taken care of that with people I may have shorted in some way. I always like to take care of the things like that. It's a good thing to take care of the things we've done. Make sure the slate is clean, so to speak. I'm hoping mine is.

 Book of Rock: Somewhere there is someone wishing they had your life. Live it like that someone could come take it from you. Make your life the desirable and enviable thing it should be. We should all live our lives in the manner that makes us happy. Both on a physical plane, but on a spiritual plane as well. I don't care what your beliefs are, make them part of your life.
 An enviable life doesn't have to be filled with monetary or possession success. A truly enviable life is one that you live doing what makes you and your family happy. If you're happy with where you are in your life, live that part LARGE! Big enough for people to see and think "Damn, why can't I do that?"
 The simple truth is they can. Everyone's good life is as different as we are as people.
 Hell, my life is grand. I've been some places, seen some things, married the one person that I think I was meant for all along. I've got 4 kids I'm wildly proud of. That's got to be an enviable life.


   Hang tough, be yourself. No one else can do that for you

When Tempers flair

  So, I let Mr Temper out of his little hut for a while yesterday and the result is that my sister either blocked me or punted Facebook. Either way, I'm beyond giving a shit anymore. This trying to settle in with keeping people happy for the sake of keeping them happy is a load of horse shit and I'm not doing it any longer. It's tiresome to be the person that always apologizes, the one that's told to "shape up", and   be dishonest with myself. Nope, no longer. "Shape up" is a fucking riot. On that I call "Pot meet Kettle". I'm also weary of putting off how I feel about certain topics in order to keep the family peace. That's not happening any fucking longer either. It appears that it's perfectly okay for part of the family to behave in a certain manner, but let me do that and it's suddenly such a bad thing that I get blacked off a Facebook account. Tough fucking shit. Learn to deal with it. Anytime anyone wants to come sit in my shoes for a week or so, come fucking  at it. Be nice and don't lose your temper though, because that's not how one behaves. Yeah right. The damn drama is why I'm glad Liz and I moved 400 plus miles away. Seeing as how either one of our families has been out here only once in twenty years, this must have been the right choice.

Anyway, my therapy went really well yesterday. We took some measurements on range of motion and those have all improved. The lymphedema therapy went from something that was a positive in helping me heal to more of an aid in pain management. It is very successful in that regard, so the range of motion aspects are really gravy on the taters. When the liquid is aided in draining away from my face and neck, I have far fewer problems with coughing fits. I can breath much better, and I'm not so sure that I am swallowing a very small amount of my own secretions. Those are all in the positive side of things. There are quite a few positive things still going on with me concerning my advancing cancer. They far outweigh the negatives, that's for certain.

 Yesterday I mentioned to my wife that I feel pretty useless around the house. That some of the little things that she and Sarah are doing I could do just as well. Lesson #4,325: If you don't want to do big projects, keep your mouth shut about doing little projects. Why, you ask, do I bring this up? Well, it's really quite simple. I replaced a toilet yesterday with Liz. It took forever, partly because the toilet I replaced had been there since the house was built over 30 years ago, and all the anchor bolts and the like were rusted and nearly falling apart. The valve for the water had to be cut off the water line. Which given the small amount of room for any tools, took me longer than I wanted. I had to stop a lot and let my face, neck, and shoulders quit spasming and to suction my mouth out. I think a lot of bad words ended up in the suction pot as well. All in all it took me about three times longer than it did to replace the one in our bath room about a year and half ago. The $64,000 question is also, Why didn't I replace them both at the same time? The answer is, I don't have a good answer to that.  The toilet works like a charm, and after everything quit screaming at me, I felt good about myself for having done the work. And I know that when I begin to get surges of pain, I'm running out of wind, and I have to stop as often as I did, that my patience with myself and everyone else gets pretty thin. Liz is a trooper, and even though I know I was exasperating to her, she stayed and helped. I owe her a lot of thanks for that. I don't feel quite as useless as I did. That helps my moral a lot more than I think my family knows..

 Twenty seven years ago today I was holding my very own first born baby in my arms. I don't know whether I was more proud, happy, scared shitless, or nervous. I think all of those things wrapped into one. Twenty seven years later and her feet still don't hit the floor when she sits on the couch with me. Although they do go past the edge of the couch now. She's very smart. Often very outspoken. Sometimes frustrating. Always a good mother to my cute and frustrating grandson. I'm glad she's here with me. She dropped a job she loved in Las Vegas to come back home. That's a huge sacrifice, and one I am very humbled over. So, I'll ask her later what she wants for her birthday supper. I may even put on a button up shirt to go out in, instead of just a tee shirt with the collar cut out. That should look a little better. Well, except if we are going to Sonic for Foot Long Chili Cheese Dogs. Then it would be a little over dressed.


 I'm a bit short on topics to discuss today. Partly because I'm still a little steamed over yesterday's shit. Which is really odd for me. I normally don't stay mad for very long. Apparently there is some deep rooted reason I'm angry. I'll sort that out and get over it today. I'm not one to stay pissed off for very long. I may not give a damn about the person or what they do, but I'm not generally mad. Save for a couple of people and things they've pulled over a period of time, and won't change. I'm a bit peeved over that.

  BIG NEWS!!!! Saturday I'll be in Fort Worth at the Women's Team Challenge Highland Games at 1650 Colonial Parkway, Fort Worth. The games start at 0900, I'll be there a bit ahead of that, and will stay as long as my body says to stay. That varies. I may not even be my bouncy self, but I'll be there. God Willin and the Pain Meds don't run dry!

 This is probably the most direct blog about some of my feelings I've written. If it makes you uncomfortable, that's too bad. I said over and over again, I'd be honest with everyone on the blog, so that maybe you'd gain some insight into what may become your own struggle. I hope that some of this is not ever in your future. But at least now you know I've got a temper that just blows a cork now and then. And he can be a nasty mother fucker if I let him. Lately I feel like I need to let him out more often and give him a little more rope. We'll see how that plays out

Rough

   Damn Sam yesterday was a rough day! I'm hoping today goes a bit better! Geez. I mean, yeah, I understand this is going to get worse before the end comes, and I'd better steel my nerves if I'm going to come out the other side with any form of dignity, but still, YIKES!. I'm coughing a lot more phlegm now, than I was. That's not always a bad thing, more of a pain in the ass thing, but not always bad. The new end of the stick is, when I wake up from naps (which are practically uncontrollable now) I cough up a lot more blood for a lot longer period of time. It seems that I cough deep into my lungs as well. Not that puny upper respiratory cough, like a sore throat or drainage cough, but way down there cough.  What I cough up is a beautiful shade of bright red, and at first not a lot of phlegm with it. As it settles in the phlegm increases and the blood decreases until it's all pretty clear. I'm taking mucinex to thin the phlegm out, hoping that it will clear more easily, and in most cases that's true. It is certainly disheartening to have that big a swing in just 3 days. Saturday I was able to cough and clear really easily. Sunday and Monday the same, although Monday there was a definite increase in the amount of blood I was bringing up. Tuesday, however, that knocked my socks off. I'm glad now that I gathered up the three kids still at home and discussed that I was going to be coughing up more blood and to not get excited unless I was excited. For whoever suggested I do that, cudo's. Thank you very much. I don't know why I didn't think to do that on my own, but I hadn't. Your suggestion helped with the kids quite a bit, thanks.
     It was rough in the fact that I got to the point I was kinda spooked to fall asleep for any length of time. That's not conducive to being a good patient. I know when my body says sleep, that I should. It's working its ass off to heal me, and though it's fighting a losing battle, I'd be better off if I just gave it the chance to do what it does best. I think that happens with a lot of us. How many of us, when we've had a bug strong enough to keep us home from work, fought sleeping? I won't lie, I did. A lot. Foolish really, because what am I going to miss? The Price Is Right? Big deal. I know when I did finally quit fighting it and went to sleep, I woke up feeling 100% better. Now why I didn't make that connection, Mr Obvious, is beyond me. So now, I find that I kinda enjoy the little naps during the day. It'd be nice to get five or six hours of straight sleep at night, although I don't think I'll see that again. Generally two to four hours is about all I get in a row at night. For instance. I woke up at about 1 AM, coughing my ass off. Then I feel like I need to wait a bit before trying to fall asleep again. That stems from putting myself back out, and waking up in ten minutes coughing even harder than what woke me up. So about Two I went back out. Didn't wake up until about 0430. In those two and a half hours, though, I felt really refreshed. And still don't feel all that sleepy. Yesterday I was typing this blog and dozed off I don't know how many times. Or wrote stuff that was so far outside the walls that I didn't even have a point of reference as to why it got that way. Strange feeling indeed
    It was rough in the fact that my voice is almost completely gone. I have to struggle to form any words and make them understandable. I have to speak a word, take a breath, speak a word, and so on until I get the sentence out. I also have to make it more quiet than I had to in the past. Not that it was overly loud to begin with, but it's even more quiet now. I don't really know how much longer I'll have any voice at all. That will be a bit of a sad moment for me, not that I didn't expect that to be the case, but I sure would have liked to be able to speak again, to the point everyone understood me. And something other than a nice string of cuss words would have been nice. Although my penmanship has really gotten better, and I can write faster now. Silver linings, remember?

   Last week at the Safety Meeting, my boss asked me "What are the good things in your life? I already know the bad things, what's the good that keeps you going on?".  I hate when he asks questions that should be damned easy to answer and just aren't. Seriously, one would think that you could rattle off half a dozen different good things, right? I was stumped. I know there are good things going on with me, I see them every day. But how to put those into words, since they are mostly feelings and not the overt things like the bad. So I thought about it as we walked to our vehicles. And thought. Probably the most quiet he'd ever heard me in the over 2 years we worked together. Here's what I came up with

 Friendship: Real, cyber, old and new. Every day it's a pretty steady stream of people on Facebook or out in the real world wishing me the best. Just visiting. Letting me listen and be part of the group that I'd been in for years. Having old friends come a long way to visit. (It had happened before Kise and Daric visited as well). That's always a good thing.

Breathing: I used to laugh and answer "Well, I'm on the right side of the grass and breathing", when people would ask how I am. A new breath on a new day. That's the ticket. I'm beginning to cherish them more and more

Being able to get out and around: Besides taking some road trips, just being able to drive myself to my therapy sessions, or to the field offices is a great feeling. That may not always be an option, so I'm gonna revel in it as long as I can

 Watching my grandson: I know I know, it's way down here on the list, but this isn't done in a prioritized manner. Just watching him get bigger, (i see it when I think his mom isn't, because I didn't see my kids get bigger, suddenly they just were) listening to him talk to his mom and YaYa. Pretty cool stuff

Getting a hug from the kids: Always a damn good thing. No matter how bad my day was, I'd come in the door and the kids would yell "Daddy!!" and run up and give me a hug. They are older now and don't do that, but we still get hugs. Those I truly cherish.

 That's just a few. The list goes on and on. I've said before, your day is what you make of it. If you start out pissed off, chances are your day is going to suck dick for skittles as well.  I don't like that. I try to make each day count. Try to be a little productive, even when I'm stuck at home.

 Book of Rock: Don't fuck around. Get done what you have to, in the best manner possible, and as quickly as possible. Get your work done, then you have all that extra time to screw around in. Set that daily goal, hit it, and the rest of your day is yours.
 That doesn't mean you should set your daily goal so ridiculously low that even a trained chinchilla could finish it. What it means is that your set a goal that challenges you. Hit that goal, you'll never feel like your not accomplishing anything within your job. I can't tell you how many times I've had young guys come up and say "I don't know why I bother, I never get ahead of my job". No shit? Really? What was your goal today? "didn't have one". And THAT'S why you feel like you don't accomplish anything. Shame on you, not the job or the boss, you.

 Why did I like working in the oil field all those years? Because I did see at the end of every day, what I'd managed to get done. Stuffing boxes packed, wells cleaned and cleaned up around. Finding leaks, checking this and that in a daily routine. There was always something to look at that was the measure of what you'd done during the day. Every working person needs that. Otherwise your job looks more like a ball and chain than it should. Your job should always be a reflection upon you. And at times mine looked like I didn't give a rat's hairy ass. And those times I didn't. Those didn't last long, but it doesn't take long for something you take pride in to slip into that mess you'd rather not have your name tied to. That was always my fault, not anyone else's, just mine. And I was able to correct that.

  Treat yourself to something that's only for you, today. Big or small it doesn't matter, just find something that's only for you and get it. In the long run, it'll be a blessing

Finished

  Yesterday we went down to sign my will and powers of attorney, as well as a DNR form. It was a great weight off of my shoulders getting all this stuff finalized. It will make everything easier for Liz and the family to deal with all the things that come up in the course of my demise. Everything is pretty well laid out for the family to see and shouldn't cause any rough housing among then children. If there is, I'll come back and haunt the quarrelers to the nth degree. It made Liz cry a little. It was sort of adding to the finality of everything. By me signing all the paperwork that I did, affirmed that my end was coming. If I were to offer any advise it would be, do this all now, while you're healthy. Then it just looks like a wise decision on your part. Waiting until you might be terminal or are terminal just kind of adds to the stress of the moment. It wasn't like Liz and I hadn't already discussed doing this, I just kept getting clean bills of health, and that in turn made me move the Will, and all the DNR and Hospital variances to the darn back burner. Had it been done ahead of time, I wouldn't have been so stressed about getting it done now.  It's a shit storm to get all that ironed out after your dead. Don't do that to your family. All told it probably wasn't but 4 hours out of my time  to get all this finished. The attorney had more time, but only because of the legal forms that have to be used. I didn't realize that it took so much more than "She gets it all" to have a will finished. That's okay though. It's finished and I, as well as Liz, can relax a bit.

  I've had so much fun in my life that it's probably not fair to other folks. I always looked, and still do, for the good in any situation. And as a rule, there is always something funny going on either right in front of you, or just off to the side. For example, I was a pall bearer at Liz's Grandfather Spoonemore's funeral. It's me and 5 other older men. All of them shorter than me, and almost all of them far more weak than I at the time. It had snowed, not unusual in Ks, but they hadn't cleared a path from the road to the grave site either. There are huge above ground headstones in the old cemetery, and a lot of those that are ground level. The old guys are kinda sliding around, and here I am on the rear, trying to steer them toward the grave site without losing anyone. Suddenly they take a bad turn and I find myself sliding across a ground level head stone. "Big Jim. To Know Him Was To Love Him" was who I skidded across. For some reason it struck me funny, and I had a hell of time during the rest of the service to keep from laughing. I'd look at Liz, she'd look at me and start to giggle too.
 My daughter Sarah got to have one of those times with my mom when she was dying and stuck in ICU. Sarah is pregnant and mom has her sitting on the edge of her bed. Sarah said they were just kind of talking quietly, mom had her bed moved so she could see out of the room. Sarah says mom grabbed her arm and said "Boy, there are some ugly people around here, aren't there?". That made em both laugh. It was a good thing, that was the last thing Sarah heard from mom, a laugh.

  It boils down to what we see as we go about our daily lives. I tend to see the good side in almost everything. The guys at work even got to calling my mantra "It could be worse." as their own. Because, in reality, just about everything could be worse. In the field, if things break down, there's not only oil or water to leak, or a pumping about to crater. One of the guys and I had been going over a pumping unit and I noticed a bad saddle bearing. We noted, too, that another company had given the unit an "all clear" sign. We caught it before it cratered.That's a good thing, because it could have been way worse. The saddle quotes and the beam and weights slide toward the gear box and do a lot more damage.
  "Your cancer is back, you've got a year at the most, more likely less". Coulda been worse, I could have had only 6 weeks like my dad had. Everything has a better edge to it than what one might think. Generally it's a lesson to be learned. It's almost always a test of character. That's the better end of "It coulda been worse". You might have thought that there was nothing to be gained from any given situation. Until that type of thing pops up again. Then what you've learned from the first incident comes into play and this time the lesson learned makes the fix that much simpler. It all really can be worse. Nearly everything can be worse. I'm certain there are scenarios that are worse.

 I find myself dozing off if I'm setting still in the recliner. I doze while I'm trying to read, while I'm tying the blog. I don't doze while I drive, or even get sleepy. If I did, I'd surrender the keys so fast it'd make your eyes water. I can't think of anything worse than falling asleep at the wheel. Not only do you risk wrecking and killing yourself and your passenger. But how about other drivers? What a shame it would be to kill someone else because you're too stubborn to know when to stop driving.  I know I can't drive 11 hours straight like I could in July. That's just not going to happen. I get screaming muscle pain, cramping muscle, even from the pec that's in my mouth. That will cramp just like any other muscle, only this one tries to dislocate what's left of my jaw. That's enough to make your eyes water, I'm hear to tell ya. So I have to either stop and rest, or let someone else drive. And I hate to let others drive. It's something I've had to learn to do, and I'm a slow learners as far as surrendering the wheel goes.  Silly, I know, but that's me.


  Something to think about: If all your best days are way in the past, and that's all you can relate to, something is terribly wrong with your life. This day, and all the days that follow this day, those are the best days of your life. Is it wrong to remember? Oh hell no it's not. But to make that the focus of everything, isn't healthy in my opinion. The past is there to remember loved ones and good times. It's not something to base all your happiness upon, or to have even been the best times of your life. The best time of my life? Yesterday when Liz and I settled everything that I needed to have signed. The will and all the legal documents that set up how I end my life. Today will be the best day of my life as well. Something will happen that will make me smile, or laugh. And I get to see my kids and Liz face one more time. How do you top that with things that have happened years ago? I can't. And yet all those times were as fun and the times more recent. I just don't relive them over and over to feel good about myself. Last year I was having the best year of my working career. I miss it, simply because I can't work any longer. If I were still working, this year would be the best of my working career. Only because I choose it to be so. Not because 10 or 15 years down the road, I'll look at a picture and say "Man, those were the best time I ever had.". Sorry, I'm not built that way

 You all have choices in your life, just as I have had in my life. Whatever you choose, do it with the intent of making it the best choice you've ever made for yourself. Be honest with yourself as well. If it's not working like you'd expected, look and see if it's something you can change within yourself first. If that's not the case, then start looking for something new. There's no use in being in a job or position your simply can't stand.

 Love and hugs and all that stuff.

Friends

 As the folks who follow the blog know, we had Liz's birthday party on Saturday. Yes, it's a day late but who's counting. Liz has some of the best friends and co-workers on earth. They look out for her, and that's always a great thing to have. She's gonna need them when my ride is finished, and the cool thing is, she won't have to ask. They'll be there. Good friends are like that. I had a couple of friends from High School, one of them was my best friend, and although we lost touch forever and a day, we can usually pick right up where we left off.

  Kise Randall and Daric Smith came to visit me this weekend. They drove all day Saturday, spent the night, and left again on Sunday afternoon. I tried to convince them to leave Topeka Ks earlier on Saturday so they could come to Liz's birthday party but they'd have none of that. They felt it might be intruding. Strange, they both sound a lot like me in that regard. So, we met up at Cracker Barrel on Sunday morning. Went through some pictures, caught up on some old times, and generally had a nice visit. Then we came back to Casa De Roc and shot the shit for five or so more hours. What a great day it was for me. I didn't realize how much I'd missed their company until I saw them drive away. My eyes leaked again. A lot. It's funny, we sat down, each of us with kids of our own, lives, jobs, hobbies, all the things that we've acquired as we've gotten older, and when we started talking it was as if it was fall of 1978, waiting to graduate in May of next year. The conversation was easy and not rushed, just like when we were kids and knew every damn thing there was to know. I miss that, and I miss Kise, Daric, Kise's husband Tom, more than I expected myself to miss them. I'd liked to have kept in better touch with all those folks. I don't regret my lack of correspondence, but it would have been a positive thing to have stayed in better contact. And now, at the closing side of my journey, we get together for just a few hours, and it's like we never lived more than a few blocks apart. They made me smile, and laugh, just like they did when we were younger. I'm going to miss them, and I'm very glad we had a few hours to catch up a little. It's time I'll treasure. Thanks Kise and Daric. I'm glad you didn't tell me you were going to drive straight through. And I'm glad you made it home in once piece. It was a long day and a long drive. Thank you so much for taking the time out of your lives to come spend some of my time with me. Love ya

  The horror is now, I'm bleeding like a stuck hog. Well that's not entirely true, but I'm bleeding a lot more than I had been. I cough a lot, but since they got me some cough syrup it's held that down to the point I'm not throwing up during the coughing spells. That helps a lot. The strange thing is, when I was bleeding inside my mouth, besides coughing up what I'd aspirated, I suctioned a lot out of my mouth. I'm not getting hardly any bloody mucus or saliva. Not when compared to what I'm hacking out of my trach tube. I have to wonder, is that coming out of my lungs? If it is, is it cancer moving off into there (might explain why I run out of wind so easily), or is it just something that is irritated and causing me to hack up a much higher volume of blood. Even more strange is the fact that it will clear up for a while, and I won't hack up blood at all. Then BOOM it's back with a vengeance. Weird, huh? I'll discuss this with my Hospice nurse when he comes in Tuesday, see if he want's to go over it with the doctor. Now, having said that, my docs in Houston said I would bleed, but they never said where or approximately how much, or any of that stuff. I'm sure they didn't want to get pinned down with specifics, because somewhere out there is some guy that's dying from his own cancer that might not happen exactly as the doc's said, then he'd sue them. I can almost smell that. I understand that specifics can change in a flash and never be exactly what they thought they would be back three months ago. At any rate, that's how I see my cancer, as the moving around shit that's fucking up my perfectly happy life. So be it. I die, it dies. I win in the long run, and that's all I care about. As far as the cancer goes that is. I care about my family. And they'd see me winning as something entirely different, like dad being completely clear of cancer and able to go back to work. That's what they'd see as a win for me. That'd take a miracle. While I wouldn't mind having to go into the next benefits meeting and saying "Yeah, yeah yeah. I know I said last year was my last trip here. But I had a miracle and I'm here working." Eating that little dab of crow wouldn't hurt my feelings at all.

 I'm having more neck and shoulder pain too. I doubled up my pain patches to see if that was the way to go since I had just ordered more of the 25mg patches. I can tell a big difference in the pain. But I'm also really groggy and feel like I need more sleep. As a control, I'll drop one of the patches on Tuesday when it's time to change them again. If I get more pain, and still feel as groggy, I'll go back to 50 mg. Anyway, I get more rest during the day. I still wake up 2-5 times a night having to clear my tracy. I can live with that. Although, a nice 5 or 6 hours straight through would be neat. I think I'm passed getting anymore of those days, though. Woke up this morning with what I thought was a screaming sinus headache. Turns out it was the muscles in my neck. The back of my neck felt like it had two 2X4's stuck in it. I think that was from the hoodie I wore on the couch. The hood must have wadded up behind my neck and forced my head forward. That must have made my neck stiff, and as soon as it was able it went on up into my head and jaw. As soon as I got my posture lined up correctly, or as correctly as can be expected, the head ache stopped. Gotta love that. A little bit of home remedy. I don't want to be one of those Hospice patients that calls every time the slightest thing goes awry for them. Nope,  I may be a mess but I'm not an afraid of my own shadow. I ask later, and then only in generalities.

  I get a lot of good things that happen in a day, and they far out weigh the bad things that go hand in hand with them. I laugh, I smile. I get pleasure out of watching my grandson try to weasel around with his mom. He's pretty good at it, and getting better. Although, he sometimes doesn't back off quickly enough. Then his mom pounces. That in itself is pretty funny. She reminds me of me dealing with two kids. I think they would tag team dad, unless they wanted the same thing. Then they attacked from different angles and work at me from different directions. That didn't work all the time, but it did often enough. I was a bit of a push over. As long as they were clear about what they wanted and the babysitter didn't have any complaints, they could have a snack of something that wasn't best for them.
Just seeing the sunrise or sunset is a good thing. That means I'm not stuck in the house all the time. That I'm still able to get out and be me, even for a couple of minutes. So yes, everything has a silver lining. And I like to hunt for it every time.

 Short one again today. That's not all bad, I don't think.

 What shall we do today, my friends? Carpe Diem? No, that's been done to the point of nausea.
Book Of Rock: It's not my fault you're unhappy, I can't fix that. If I could, I'd tell you to get off your ass and learn something. Make yourself happy first, then other people will either resent you being in a good mood, in which case they need an opterectomy, or they'll join in and have fun with you. Either way, as long as your happy, that's all that matters. Remember, this ain't the girl scouts. If you want your cookies, you gotta get em yourself.

Have fun, my friends. Of my youth and of my years here in Midland. Each and every one of you holds a special place in my heart. Thanks for being there

Short and sweet

 I wanted to throw Liz a surprise birthday feed. My oldest daughter and two of Liz's friends were helping me out with it. So this how a surprise party gets to be a "Dammit, you better act surprised!" Party.
 
 Liz and I were out farting around Friday afternoon when she gets a text. "OOOO! Cheri wants to know if I can play golf with her in Rankin for a "Night Golf" tourney this Saturday. Can I?"
 "No, no you can't"
 "Okay I'll.....wait, no? Why not?"  You have to understand, I never say no when Liz wants to do something with her friends. Not then, not now, not ever. Her expression was priceless.
"Because, dammit, we were putting together a surprise birthday party for you, that's why. You better damn well act effing surprised too!" I was kinda laughing. Her friends have near perfect timing.
That's no big deal, Liz can pull that off, then later we'd have to fess up and tell folks that she knew and why. In fact, the only time I've ever really surprised her was with renewing our vows this past September. She had no clue.
  The youngest daughter, Addison, job is to get Liz out of the house and keep her gone for as long as necessary. We'd all cleaned Saturday morning, and Sarah had snagged a gift card to somewhere. Addison took Liz to a movie, then they were doing what ever until Sarah, I, and Liz's two friends were ready. Stuff was supposed to be finished by 1900 hrs so we could spring a lovely supper of grilled chicken thighs, four huge Tbones, side dishes from everyone, two packs of hot dogs, and around 20 or so bacon wrapped, pineapple cream cheese stuffed jalapeños. I was going to grill for the first time in, what for me, seems like ages.  Throw in a new wrinkle. Friends or ours from when we lived in Elkhart text me and said they were going to come to Midland from San Antonio if I was up to company. Well hell yes I'm up for company. Now, how do I handle this. Surprise is already busted. I break the news to Sarah, Brandon, and Dianne that Liz needs to come home early so she can chat it up with old friends.
  We got close, but no cigar. Although I did have help cleaning seeds and such out of the jalapeños, so it was a win for me. Liz is hard to catch in a surprise. Seems like the stars line up her direction for surprises. C'est La Vie. I grilled away, Liz had to help me once or twice, because my legs were giving up but I enjoyed cooking on the grill again. For the record, if I should come back as another guy that likes to grill, bear in mind I hate cooking on gas. Propane or otherwise.

  It's true. My sticks are going. I can't stand for very long. Too much walking gives me a limp. Apparently my right leg feels like it's been abused since it's missing a goodly chunk of it''s quad. It's kind of a three stage thing with my legs. First, they start to ache. Time on that varies. Yesterday it was about an hour into cleaning the house. Then they feel like they weigh a ton each. That's pretty consistent, about 30 minutes after the aching starts. Then I have to set down to rest them. They get shaky and don't want to hold my weight up any longer. I was at the last stage while I was trying to grill. Makes it a pain in the ass to grill decent victuals when you have  to set down every 10 or 15 minutes to give them a chance to recoup a little. We got there though, dang it, and that's what counts. The food was a hit, Liz got a chance to sit out back around the fire pit and shoot the breeze with friends. I had the chance earlier in the day. It was Liz's turn to just let everything slide and just relax with her buddies. I was so exhausted, in a fair amount of pain, and needed to wind down myself. I got the recliner and crashed out for a spell. I'm glad I have friends that will allow me to do that without feeling guilty over napping while company was here. As a rule I find that beyond rude. But at this point in my life, I have to do that or run the risk of being that "Angry old man that's dying of cancer" reputation. I don't want that, nor have I earned it....yet at least.

  I'm still plenty tired, and that's okay. What probably is okay as well, but doesn't seem like it, is the amount of blood I'm starting to hack up. I know it's going to increase. I figured on something coming in gradually so I'd be used to seeing the extra. Whoops, wrong assumption. More oft than not yesterday evening it was blood only, no mucus. So much for my theory of aspirating it from my throat. Nope, that theory is blown out the window. That which I'm suctioning isn't bloody at all.  That kinda sounds like the opening to one of those cheap startle movies of the late 70's early 80's. The only thing lacking was a soundtrack that included "fweet, fweet, fweet" before the slasher strikes. It's still going on this morning. Although so far it's been off and on, and a mix of everything. I'll talk to my Hospice nurse Tuesday if it's not stopped by then. I'm hoping it has. If not, then that's a sign, I am going to assume again, that the cancer may have moved to my lungs. That will suck the ass out of a dead raccoon. But, it would go a long way to explaining why I get winded so fast now. Probability mode in me says "Yep, that sounds about right", let's move on, shall we?  I love my probability mode. I'm still very sore today as well, and not from just from coughing a lot yesterday. (Come to think of it, I have been coughing a lot more lately). I do have some cough meds with hydrocodone in with it. That's helping with the raw in the back of my throat. That's always nice. Which leaves this part with this thought: "Good or bad thing, the extra blood in the coughing towels"

  Here's why I have to contemplate that a bit: I'm torn, right now, with this. One: "Thank God it's moving faster". It's not that I don't like being here, but the cancer stuff is beginning to wear on me. Not just the extreme stuff. Hell, that's easy do deal with. It's how the little stuff piles on.
Two: "Shit, I'm not ready to go yet". And I'm not, no where near. But, being a pragmatist, I look at stuff as what I'll  miss, not how much I've already seen  or done. Because there are things I'd like to do all over again.  The scales are tipping toward the death area of the scale.
  Here's why I don't really wanna kick out yet. I've not spent enough time with Liz and all my kids. Next week I go to Fort Worth to watch friends throw in a Highland Games (and yes, I saw some of them in McPherson already, these are new guys), and to see some friends in that part of the world. I get to see my oldest son, his girlfriend, and Wyatt. Wyatt is a riot. Well, he was last time I met him. He's getting bigger now, and I'd love to see him and Bo play together a little. It's my last chance to see my old games friends. I want to see the family and those guys more. Alas, this is going to be it, I'm afraid. I don't know when I'll go, so I do have that motivation to see as many of my buds as possible, and to give them a hug. They (meaning all of you) are the reason I'm fighting this so hard. And I need to let you know about that more often.


 Short one today. I'm bushed

 Shout out to Karla, Renee, and Alex. Thank you so much for going out of your way to stop by and visit. I really appreciated it, and I'm sorry I got tuckered out so fast. Love ya

 Today your job, as is dictated by me, is to slow down a notch. Sit for a minute and just look over your family and friends. Memorize their faces, the lilt of their voices. Carry those with you every day, all day.

Pinch on the fannie

Just...Wow

 Last evening I got to watch my son march at a football game. It was windy, and a bit chilly. The north wind was definitely biting. Normally that's no big deal. I've watched a football game in 30 mph winds and sleet. This time it wasn't the chilly that got me, it was pain. My throat, neck, shoulders, and back just sprung up with sharp, stabbing pain. Usually I get a little warning. You know, like that stiff muscle that you can't get to relax no matter what you do. Not this time. I suctioned out my mouth, and WHAM! the pec started to cramp, my what's left of my jaw popped and my neck and shoulders all gave me that WTF! thing and started to hurt themselves. So, I got to watch two out of three routines. They are a very good band. The Boy volunteered to play tuba when they march, because they were one person short, and he does it well. Considering that he only touched one in August, I'd say damn well.

  The "Wow" thing is this. I started noticing some things that I hadn't before. I've noticed my legs are getting weaker. And even though I'm still trying to walk they get me every once in a while. The defectors any way. I also know I'm losing upper body strength. That too is a given, but at least they are starting to show a little response to the piddly workout I can do. That, though, makes my pec in my mouth swell and cramp, kind of a catch twenty-two. I can live with that a little.
  What I'm noticing is a definitely larger and more frequent bleeding. I used to think it was from the irritation of vurping and not being able to swallow the stomach acid. And while that may be true, it's not the complete picture. I don't see the blood in my saliva like I should, if this were bleeding from my mouth more. I'm not suctioning it up like I had in the past. No, this is coming fresh out the trach tube. All lovely pink mucus and bright red flecks. Now, if I'm aspirating the mucus, then it would be that way, and I think some of it is. When the cancer in my throat and mouth was bleeding I could taste the blood. More oft than not, I can't taste it. Has the cancer decided my lungs are a good place to hang out? It may have. In the long run it's not going to make a lot of difference if it is, so getting it looked at is a monumental waste of time and money. I am assuming it's in there, but as we all know assume makes an ass out of u and me.
 I also tire more rapidly. Way more rapidly. I start out pretty well on my walk, and then it all just goes at once. No warning, just tired. Hard to keep the legs shuffling, the whole bag of worms. Liz mentioned yesterday that we should check into getting me a temporary handicapped mirror card. I agreed. Which is also odd for me. Last week I'd have told her she was out of her ever loving, pea picking mind. Not so much now. My right leg is really weak since it's missing a goodly chunk of it's quad, I give it a break. My left leg tries to overcompensate for my right, and it gets tried as well. The added use of my right leg makes my irritated sciatic nerve really angry. That's alright, I expect that. Knowing that everything is connected, all this also makes my shoulders and neck hurt like a mother.The pain takes the fire out of my day and makes it a pain in the ass to even get up and waddle ass around. So I am doubling up my pain patch today to see if that helps, and hopefully won't make me so groggy that I can't get around on my own. Time will tell the tale on that particular bag of fun and games.

 I was asked the other day, "What are the good things about your life today? I already know the bad things, what's going on that makes today worth getting up for?" I kinda had to think about that a second, oddly enough. I'd think that would be a real easy list to fill out. Turns out it's not. Not that I don't have a lot of things that make it worth getting up and getting around for. Or reasons that I keep trying to do more things on a daily basis.
  Here's what I came up with: It's good just to get out of the recliner and get around. Any day alive, that I can function in, that's got to be a BIG Positive.
 I see my kids and grandkid. Some of my best shows up in those kids, and the grandson, he's just funny. He's 6 and that's a good age to be around.
 I hug Liz every chance I get. Being able to hold my lover's hand is always a plus for me. I probably don't do that often enough. But it's enough, I think. At least she's not told me to hit the road, Jack
 Even out here there are a few mornings and evenings with pretty sunrise and sunsets. No where near as often as in Kansas
 I can still read. Well, up until the last week or so. I get tired and face plant into the book I'm reading. I hope that adjusts it's self.
 So yeah, it looks as if I get to stay alive another day and see if that all comes true

  Book of Rock: Your strength is what makes you who you are.  Not physically strong. Rather strong in spirit and mind.
 I hear a lot from people "I can't do what you're doing" Of course you can, I'd rather you never have to go through what I am, but still, yes you can do this. You can because I say you can. Find the self confidence to learn to either work around your fears, or come to terms with them. You can do this, and probably better than I

 Get your boobs checked ladies, for yourself and your family.

 Love ya, and shit

Wow I'm tired

  Today is Liz's birthday. My love, my rock, and my soul mate, have a wonderful day. I'll make sure you can do anything you want.
 

 Yesterday Liz and I went to see RUSH. The movie about Formula 1 drivers James Hunt and Niki Lauda. In the opening scene the cars are all set for the start of the race and I recognize all the drivers names on their cars. I followed F1 and GT gran prix racing during that time very closely. Unlike today where the cars are the stars with paddle shifters, telemetry on the engine and suspension. Those guys drove. They listened. The felt how the car was driving. They ran clutch, brake, gas, and shifter like a symphony. It was real racing then. They are fast now, but it's not the same to me, watching the drivers not even have to drop a hand to shift. It's just different, and as far as racing goes, I'm way old school. Niki Lauda, besides being a great driver, was also a leader in safety. Even after his horrendous wreck and burning, he wanted to race, just race under the safest conditions possible. He and Jackie Stewart were leaders in that area. So many terrible wrecks and so many of those avoidable if the track owners had done what they needed to in order to handle much faster cars. All that being said, it was a good movie about two competitors that over the years also became friends. The movie doesn't show that as much, but it was still a good movie. Not and In Your Face kind of affair, but a bit more subtle. Lauda had most of his face burned away, and was back in a Ferrari 43 days after his wreck. Huge determination, and inspiring. Liz like the movie as well. So it was a win/win there.

  So yeah, I'm way tired these last few days. It's part and parcel to an aggressive cancer that is doing it's best to piss me off. And it's succeeding. The rat bastard. It's working on me by not allowing me sleep that's all continuous. I have to wake up more often at night now to clear my trach tube so I can breath better. I've had to give up my bed again. I've tried sleeping in it a few times, but I end up feeling like I'm drowning. That sucks. The bed is more comfy, and I can reach over and feel my wife. Turns out after 21 years I got used to going to sleep with one hand on her. Go figgar. So I wake up tired. There's been weather changes here as well that kind of have me off normal. The cool weather is great, but it's also not helping some of my physical ailments. Imagine having a runny nose, or sinus drainage that has no where to go, and makes it hard to catch a breath through your nose or mouth. Then imagine that causing you to gag and possibly vomit. Yeah, that's been me for a week or so now. Weed pollen is high and of all the things we can do to dry up my sinuses, alway dry my mouth out so badly it gets sore. I also have a sore spot in the back of my mouth today. Not sure if it's to do with the drainage or cancer. I'll have the hospice nurse check it for me.
   I started trying to do some extra stuff early yesterday and this morning, hoping to retain some of the muscle mass that I'm losing. It's damn painful at times, but I think it's necessary for my body and my mind to get into a holding pattern at least.  It's damn rough mentally for me to watch myself kind of shrivel away. Folks say I look ok and that I'm looking strong. Bless them, it's a boost for me. I feel it going. And maybe, since it's my own body, I'm hypersensitive to how it's working. I know I don't feel as well as I did three weeks ago. I do know, however that the lymphedema therapy has done wonders for pulling the swelling out of both sides of my face, neck, and shoulders. That helps a lot, both physically and mentally. To me the biggest part of this fight I'm in is mental. I can't stop the physical sides of what going to happen, that's a given. But by God I don't have to let it run me mentally as well. Even when it's a struggle to stay up beat and ahead of what's coming, I will strive for that every day. No, not every day is easy. In fact they get progressively more difficult. For example, at the movie yesterday I had to get up three times, got to the hall and suction out my mouth and as much of my throat as I could. Was it fun? Fuck no it's not fun, but I didn't let that take away from going to the movies with my wife. Our first date was to a movie, DOA with Kenneth Branagh. I was a little preoccupied to notice much of the movie. Liz is a beauty and I had trouble keeping my eyes on  the screen and not her face.  I was sure hoping that evening that we could have a few more dates down the road. Turned out to be a lot of dates and a lot of years. Best part of my life, really.
  It's been really nice out. So to take advantage of that, I'm going to try and clean up the back yard some. It needs it badly. Redneck Paradise has fallen into disrepair since the city put on added payment for water bills. It's a sliding scale. Use up to X amount and its so much per hundred gallons, over that the rate increases. Then really increases. We are in a drought, so I didn't mind not watering the lawn. Although front and back look terrible now, the new water source should be into Midland by the middle of next year and Liz can start watering again. That'll help out a lot. So, here's how I'll have to do my thing in the back yard. I can work about 10 minutes, then set and catch up for about 20 minutes. Yes, that's how much the cancer has taken from me so far, but fuck him, I'll do what I can just to spite the miserable bastard. Liz is working the football game tonight. They have portable x-ray equipment at the stadium. I think she's scoring me a pass so I can get in with her and watch the game, which also means watching my son march in the band at half time.

 Jumping into the Way Back Machine. I made a mistake once in 1982. We had a wireline company coming out to reperforate a well we were doing a workover on. These guys had been out a lot with us all that summer since we were balls to the wall trying to improve production over an entire area. Nothing but work overs that summer. The other rig companies got all the rod and tubing work. Bless their little pea pickin hearts. Anyway, the guy starts walking up to the rig and I hollered "Dude! How's your wife and my kids?!?!" He screamed and started running at me. Being of more survival instinct than normal, I jumped onto the rig and headed up the ladder. I knew the guy was afraid of heights and was hoping he's stop way before I ran out of derrick. He did, and when he calmed down, he told me that his wife had been screwing around on him for several years, and that 2 of his kids weren't really his. I was a bit more mindful after that, about what came flying out of my mouth.

 Book of Rock: Be assertive, but don't be an asshole. You'll get more accomplished with other people if your attitude is "Let's all of us do this. But remember, I'm still the boss here. If things aren't going like I'd like them, we'll stop and find out why". Works pretty well. In fact the only times I've blown a complete gasket while ramrodding gangs in the field, was when it was blatantly obvious that they were ignoring everything I told them to do. I put things in a certain order at work, so that when we are going along, we aren't doubling back constantly. Start wasting my time, and your ass is grass. If we have to change plans, and that happens, it's not big deal. We sort that out. Last year I was put in charge of rebuilding an entire tank battery. Six production tanks, one water tank, and eight heater/treaters all jumbled in like they were put there by mistake. I had 8 days. We were cleaning out the heaters and had to have them all finished in one day so the crane could come move them out of the battery the next. A truck driver took one load to a disposal. Should have been gone about an hour. Four hours later he shows back up. I was asking him nicely what took so long, since we are so far behind now. He messed up. He smiled at me, turned his back to me and started to laugh with his swamper. By the time I got done eating his ass out as loudly as was possible for me, the other three drivers and roustabout gangs saw Mr Temper. We finished that battery in 7 days, with the exception of two small wells that we didn't quite get hooked up. New well came on and it was ready to rock and roll.  I never once had to stop and find out why we weren't moving along ever again. If there was trouble with something, the gang pusher came to me and we worked out a different direction. Works wonderfully.

   Do the right thing today, even if no one is watching. Go the speed limit, use your directional lights. Acknowledge some stranger. A little of that goes a long way for other people, and yourself.

 Firm handshakes for all. No one likes a handshake that's like grabbing a recently deceased person's mitt.

 Love ya

Went to see my buds at work, maybe for the last time

  Yesterday was Safety Meeting Day at my Apache field office. Since it's open enrollment time for next years benefits, three area offices were in attendance. 120 plus men and women. That's a lot more than we had two years ago. Then there would maybe have been 50 or maybe 60. Doubling the employment for field and field office help in two years is pretty amazing.  Their benefits from health, dental, vision and life insurance are very good, always have been. There are some other options going in new next year as well. I went to not only see my work buddies, but to be the poster boy for taking advantage of everything Apache has to offer benefit wise. They've taken great care of me, and helped my wife after I went on Long Term Disability when I wasn't considered an employee any longer. That's going above and beyond, and I let the HR people know that, and asked if they'd let Houston know that as well. Great company to work for, and if any of you would be wiling to move to West Texas, I'd advise looking into Apache above the other companies.

 There, my benefits and Apache rant is complete, let me move along. It's such a pain for me to travel anywhere now, that driving fifty five miles one way, sitting for around three hours of safety meeting and benefits meeting wore me plumb the fuck out. I will say this though. It was worth every minute of it. After the meeting was over, a bunch of the guys hung around shooting the breeze. I hadn't laughed that hard in a long time. On a not so happy note, it may have been the last trip out there I can make. At least solo driving. It took so much out of me that I could barely move when I got home. I know I've got to get more active, and that will help some, but it's still difficult right now. There's a lot of things, though, that makes me want to suffer through the extra bullshit and go see my work friends more often. Besides being a bunch of really good men, we accomplished something out there in the field that we should be very proud of indeed. I chatted, as best I can write anyway, with our area Supervisor. I told him "thanks" for giving me the opportunity to live up to my own hype, and how much I appreciated his support. It wasn't an easy decision on his part, when I first moved to that field I wasn't the most cooperative employee. Field Foreman and I didn't get along. New Field Foreman later, and I was promoted to Instrument Tech. And I got the chance to show the bosses I wasn't just bullshitting, that I really could do the work. I like to think I succeeded. I also told him that I was proud to work under his supervision for the entire three fields he supervised. We accomplished a lot of rebuilds, adding new production that's been very stable over the past nearly two years. It was an entire turn around for the field, and we all deserved a little pat on the back for it. The guys that replaced me are doing good work as well. I'm very proud of the way the field turned around, and that the men who replaced me see that as well, and continue to do yeoman's work to help carry on that standard. Trust me, that ain't easy either. The job didn't define me, I defined what my job should be, and along with my Field Foreman, we hit that goal. I will try and get back to the field office at least a couple of more times. But as I told my boss and the Area Super, that was probably my last trip out there. I'm gonna have to suck it up, put on my "non bitch" oil field pants and suffer the consequences and go back out there a couple more times.

  So, all that being what it is on my "have fun" front, I promised I'd keep updating on the cancer's progress. I know I have mentioned my throat bleeding a bit more often and that's no shit, it's getting worse. We've had a change in the weather from very warm and dry to cool and humid. That's causing me to secrete more mucus and saliva. My coughing increases from that since I can't swallow much of anything at all anymore, which in turn as made my cancer spots in my throat and more to become irritated. That is part of the increase in bleeding. It's not all of it though. A big part of it is that the cancer, besides working itself into a frenzy to kill me, likes to cause my throat to bleed. My cancer is an asshole. Sometimes, the harder I fight it, the meaner it gets. So I fight it harder. And it gets meaner, so I fight it harder. Beginning to see a pattern yet? Yesterday I was asked what the good things in my life are. That's something no one has asked before. I had to think about it. Waking up topped the list, even if it means I'm not getting enough sleep, it's still a good thing to wake up. Walking around a bit is a good thing. I can't go as far, but it's still out in the open, right? I write this blog, which I thoroughly enjoy. Yeah yeah, I had to get pestered into writing it, but I'm glad I started it. It's, I hope, a little educational and a bit therapeutic for me. It's a good thing. Watching my family go through their daily routines, that's a really good thing. If I stop and take the time, my really good things far outweigh the dying parts of this trip called Terminal Velocity.
  Yeah, the bleeding is getting worse. I once again felt how far my legs have gone. My right leg gets a slight limp when it gets tired. It get's tired quickly, since it's missing a goodly sized chunk of quadricep.
I'm not ready to be a tottering old man who can barely get around. So beginning today, I'm going to work a little harder and regaining some muscle mass all over. All the while hoping that I don't cause my face to swell up again, like it's done in the past. It's a bit painful, as well, to work my upper body. I have to really watch what I'm doing, or I'll tighten the area where they removed my pec and cause it to be mad at me and cramp. Or go into chronic hurt. That's what happened the last time I worked out steadily. I did more harm to myself than good. I say that because I lost range of motion in my left arm and shoulder, as well as losing it in my neck and head. I know at this point I'll never get as much neck and head movement that I could have had they been able to continue reconstructive surgery on my pec areas. So I must watch myself. And I'm terrible at watching myself.

   The last times I've worked out at the gym I had something happen I'd never experienced before in all the time I trained. I lost heart. I got down on myself for not making the gains and strides I felt I should have. I'm messed up, right? Missing a big portion of my quad, my pec is stuck in my mouth, I've got an aggressive cancer trying it's best to kill me sooner rather than later, and I get down on myself? Hell, boy, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's how I am, that's whats wrong. I like to see gains, but this is the first time, knowing all that's not right with me physically, that I got disheartened. I had to step back and remind myself that this is going to take more time to do than any other time I've lifted after a hiatus.
I didn't even let it bother me when my bicep tendon repair job had me slowed to a snails pace lifting wise. I'm not really certain why I got the way I did, but I certainly wasn't giving myself the needed break to continue. I tell people, because I heard it from more than one trainer, that lifting and training are 90% in your head. And it's true. This time the head won though. I must get started doing something, and I know it's going to be with the elastic bands I got when I first started PT. I can use those and maybe hold off losing more muscle mass. Or at worst, slow it down a little. It bugs me that I've gotten too gun shy to lift. Mental thing, but also a reality. Time to get my shit together a bit, while I'm still strong enough to carry it around.

 There are some other things going on that I'm not so sure aren't cancer related. I wear out quickly. Some of that is because I'm more sedentary than I had been in the past. I can fix that. But I know some of it is because the cancer also exacts a price for feeding itself off of my body. As it grows, my stamina decreases. That's why I went to see the Doc again a little less than a year ago. I knew something wasn't right, because I was losing steam too quickly. This is what I'm feeling now. The cancer is moving about and gaining ground. That is going to cause me to lose ground. I dislike that, but it's something I know I have to contend with. It could be worse, I could be to the point that I can't get out at all. That would suck all around. I take today, and give it 100% of what I have in me at the time. That's not a change for me, I tended to do that when I was healthy. I also find that if I get in the proper mindset I can get done more than I originally thought I could.  That's a goal to set. Just to piss the cancer off even more, by working harder at what I can do, and gaining some personal goals, no matter how small they are.

 Okay, that's the rant for the day.

 Book Of Rock:  If you don't like your job, and find yourself bitching about it all the time, QUIT!  Don't let your negative bullshit infect the people around you who may enjoy what they do. Everyone has a day or so at work where it's bitch time. Everyone. But most people enjoy what they do and that bitch time is short lived. If all you've got are things to complain about, get the fuck away. If you thrive on your own misery, bitch to yourself away from everyone else. Constant complaining is like a cancer in the work place. Eventually, it starts to affect others as well. They don't need to hear you gripe, ever.

 Now, go forth, enjoy the day. Revel in what ever you can find that's out of the ordinary. It may be the last time you see what ever is out of the ordinary again. Make the most of it. Every day is a gift, treat it as such.

 Hugs and quick grope for the ladies. Fellas, you're on your own for a quick grope

Dammit

  It's been my week to piss people off, and it's only Tuesday. That's getting close to a new record for me. I used some very strong language on my Aunt's FaceBook status. Something I shouldn't have done, apologized for, and set a new rule for myself. Without going into detail, I won't be offering any help, good, bad, or indifferent to the person that needed it. Not ever.

   So, along with my volatile temper, I'm finding that I don't drain fluid throughout my body as well as it did even a month ago. That makes for different kinds of pain in a lot of different places. The Lymphedema massage helps greatly. At least for now. My face as of this morning isn't as swollen on either side. The area around where the put the pectoral muscle isn't rock hard like it was yesterday. My neck is somewhat reduced as well. Twice a week is all I'm scheduled for, but that does wonders. When it ceases to help, and it will, I'm going to miss the help it does give. It reduces all different kinds of pain for me in more than one area. The retention of the fluid balls up in my neck. That makes my traps sore, which in turn makes the area around my shoulder blades sore, which also makes my lats sore. And in some cases just plain damned sensitive. On the way to the Therapist yesterday, my lats and shoulders got to hurting and spasming enough I was afraid I'd have to stop and get someone to come get me. Bad enough little drops of water fell out of my eyes for a few minutes. Then it all kinda backed off long enough for me to drive that last mile and get in for therapy. I was at an 8 when I went in (told the therapist 6, because she worries if I'm 8 or over on the pain scale), and by the time I left it was down to a 2 on the pain scale. I like that.
  My reconstructive pec muscle in my face has been cramping up like there's no tomorrow. More than a few times a day. It also runs the gambit  of just a little light cramp, up to and including cramping so hard it pulls me head towards it, and makes the other side of my jaw pop in and out of place. That'll but hair on your chest. First time it happened I was near freak out. Did I panic? I did not! But I wanted to for a second or so. It hurts bad enough I see colors flash past. Reds and blues most often, sometimes orange and yellow. It's base is also still attached to my chest, so when it cramps like that it will pull my noggin down and to the left, and tends to close my left eye. Talk about looking like a cross between the Hunchback of Notre Dame and Popeye with one squinky eye. As a rule, until the last six or eight days, it only cramped once in a while. That's becoming a time or two every week. And since Sunday, 4 times a day. So far this morning I've managed to miss that. I'm not certain how because the cramping stuff started about 4 yesterday morning and hit about every 4-5 hours all day long.  Yesterday and some early this morning was "Let's cough and keep Rocky awake" time. I slept a couple of hours, coughing fit. Chatted with a person online. Fell asleep for about an hour and half. Coughing spell. This time I just stayed up. I did spend the better part of an hour coughing until my sides hurt. It finally slowed up enough to allow me to get my meds in. Got that done, waited a bit, then fed. Fortunately, digging around in my box of feed bags, I found one with large bore tubing. Fifteen minutes to feed. That's a lot better than the forty-five minutes to one hour it takes to get 16 oz of formula in for a portion of my days eating.

  I'm going to our field office tomorrow after therapy. Possibly my last trip out. It's only 110 miles round trip, but even that wears on me now. And it's a bit rough emotionally. True, I'm glad to see the guys I work with. But it's hard to think that I'll not be back to work. No, not think that. I know I won't be back to work. I didn't let work define who I was, but I certainly like the challenges it offered. It was nice to be needed and relied upon. I'm at an impasse with that right now. I feel pretty damned useless at home. My strength is going, so I can't carry some of the things I used just reach out and grab. I wear out rapidly, so I can't get accomplished some of the things I'd like to get done on any given day. That's probably why I have very little tolerance for people that whine, or get snotty when you offer them help. I'll work on that, but giving it a try is all I can promise. The same thing goes with someone who has been through cancer treatment, get sick because they HAVE to be out in bad weather, then piss and moan about being sick. I don't believe I have time to coddle over the choices a person makes. Not all mine have been perfect for certain, then again, I don't whine about them either.  My purpose of going to the field office is that the HR people are going to be there going over all the stuff in our benefits package. I'm going to be there Poster Boy, and they don't know it yet. I worked way hard keeping the jobs I've had through several boom/bust cycles. It wasn't luck, it was determination. I worked in place of a couple of people, more than once during that period. Never bitched about it either. Just went out and did what they asked of me, to the best of my ability.
 The reward for that is keeping all the insurance, stock options, and retirement that I have now. I went where the work was, did what they asked of me, and did that without bitching. Okay, I didn't bitch to anyone but myself. At least not some in ear shot of other people. I chased the money as well. I don't have a college degree, and for what I do that doesn't matter. I always did the best I could, never counted on a raise or even keeping my job. Giant Pet Peeve: People who go to college to acquire a degree in some area of education that you can't make huge money doing. Then they complain that the pay isn't any good, or that the benefits aren't great. You knew that going in, don't piss about something that you've chosen to do in your life, knowing full well what the pay was going to be right out the gate.  I've offered different people at different times help in finding a job in West Texas. Oil related for certain. Nearly all of them said "No way I'd live in Texas!!". Fine, fucking starve on unemployment then while you're waiting for the next job that isn't coming around.

 I seem to be a bit ranting and rambling this morning. Apparently I was a bit more pissed than I thought I was. I tend to get that way when people are snarky, and expect to be taken care of at my expense.  I probably should end this here, lest I become incredibly preachy about being self reliant.


   Have fun today. There are far more good things out there than bad. Find those and enjoy them. I'm going to enjoy watching the insides of my eyelids in a bit. Right after I take the boy to school