It's true, yesterday I was moping. Geez frickin Louise I hate that!!! Walking around like someone kicked the piss out of your best friends dog is just a useless waste of time. Quite frankly, if it's big enough a problem to mope about, it's big enough to either fix because you can, let it go because you can't fix or change it, or learn to deal with it and pull up your big boy britches. So, why was I moping? Chili. The one meal I really look forward to in the fall. The hell with all that turkey and stuffing and fixings, be thankful every day, not just once a year. Besides, all that cooking and sweating and fixing of desserts and things you normally don't eat, and the meal is over in 30 minutes and everyone is crashed out on the couch. Nope, Chili night, that's my favorite fall meal. When we moved here, we had to adjust the temperature it was outside to warrant that first big pot of chili. We had to move the temp up....at lot. Up there in Kansas, we waited until the high was just under 40....Down here if we wait that long it'd be half past February before we got a good bowl of home made chili. So yeah, I look forward to that, and while it was cooking yesterday I got a bit down in the mouth about it. Nothing I can do about it at all, it's something I knew was gonna come up and I didn't prep myself for it. Silly really. It's chili for God sake, not something that would save my life if I could only swallow it like a normal person. Nope, I let it get to me. Dopey man, dopey
It may be too, that I've got my days and nights turned 180. I slept damn near all day yesterday. I couldn't force myself to stay awake. So yeah, I woke up to the aroma of softly simmering chili. Wow.
Something so small really, and it's actually the one thing I am missing most right now. And it's not like I didn't fix chili all the time when I could eat. I love chili dogs, so I'd make a batch for chili dogs. I wanted to fix something like a soup, only better...chili. We had it all year round. But that first batch when the weather cools off is the best of the lot.
So then, to top that I off. I got caught up in, and how this happened I've got no frickin clue, "Used to could" Syndrome. I think everybody does that once in a while. I kept comparing myself to ten or fifteen years ago. I can't do that, for shit sake. I'm not even in as good of shape as I was last weekend. So comparing myself to things I could do ten years ago is just dumb. It made me feel badly, and that's gotta come to an end. It's not that comparing yourself to see if you've become a better person is bad, comparing what you could do physically, when you already know you're incredibly more weak than you were is just setting yourself up to feel bad. And ya know, it DID!! I'm down to having to practice what I preach more.
Okay, the mopery is finished. I still didn't sleep at all last night. I knew at 2100 hrs that I wasn't going to be able to sleep. I could feel myself waking up. Then, like most things in life, I began to fight that with the hope I'd wear myself out. What I did was make my mind so active there was no way it was going to shut down anytime soon. I was right, it didn't. It's starting to now, but I am also starting my day, so I'll be sleeping a lot...again. I don't even mind not sleeping. I didn't when I was healthy, why should I sweat it now? Because I feel like shit now is why! I can't NOT sleep. It makes me worse in ways I didn't think I'd ever notice. My aches and pain that is associated with the cancer and surgeries, it's worse. Mostly because I'm not clear enough headed to teach it how to lay down just a little so my body gets a break. That means I take more of the pain med during the day. Not over dosing on it, but using it more often, following the prescription, of course. I have a pain patch, and normally it takes care of me pretty well. I take a dose of Lortab in the AM, that gets a jump on break out pain. Normally I don't need but one more dose at night, to stay ahead of the night pain I get once in a while. So, two doses instead of four in twenty-four hours. Yesterday I got all four in, in twenty four hours. I couldn't stay ahead of the pain, mostly because I hadn't slept at night. During the day, when I sleep, my head goes 4million directions, I think, because my neck, inside and out, is killing me. Check the time, yep Lortab time. And with the fentanyl patch, Lortab actually works.
What will I do differently today? For starters I have therapy this morning. Then when I get home I'm going to purposely sleep. And I'll keep working on getting my days and nights back in line with the rest of the healthy world. I'm not certain why I want that, really. It's not like I have a job to go to. Therapy twice a week and taking The Boy to school are all I really have to do. Still, to fall in line with what normal people do for working hours (night shift folks, that's not a slam, you know what I'm talking about) just so I can get things done if I want. And then that's when Hospice and everything or one shows up. During the day, not at 0300. Getting my days back in order isn't terribly important, but it's a goal to work toward. Small? Yes. Life or death meeting? Hell no. Just something for me to work on fixing for myself. I feel my ass backward days are doomed. We'll see
Plus side things: While I haven't been sleeping at the appointed hours, I'm not bleeding any so far. That's a big plus. It's a bit disconcerting to see your own blood in your "cough" towel, and in the suction pot. It looks like a lot, but it's not, really. I think I've probably cut myself worse. The difference is that this is coming from inside me, instead of outside some place. A few years ago a caber got squirrelly on me and raked my right ear. I bled like a nut, but no one panicked. I laughed about it. When it's coming from inside you, and a bit quicker than the Doc. guessed it would be. That's probably what bugs me. And there is enough things that bug me about this dying bullshit I don't need to throw that on there as well. Right?
Book Of Rock: Stop over thinking every fucking thing!! Life ain't rocket science, unless that's what you do for a living. But working isn't always life, either.
Man, I mean really. If you are doing something, trust yourself. Your intuition is probably right. Thinking about it over and over and over again doesn't fix the problem, it means you've wasted time living over something you can't always fix.
It's like competing in the Heavy Athletics. You train. Your body knows how to do it right. But if you start worrying about whether you're spin technique is good, and you keep nit picking it, the next thing you know you're throwing for shit. Back me up here, fellow Heavy's.
And for your own sake, relax. Work as hard as you can. With out over thinking what you're doing, and relax while you're doing it, then your distance will improve. And that applies just as well to work.
Have fun today, minions LOL
OH! Side note. I napped and dreamed I was eating a chili dog. It was so realistic that I tried to chew. I can fell that because my jaw woke me up. It didn't like trying to chew and made a good effort of dislocating it self.
Really, Hugs and all that shit
Monday, November 4, 2013
Sunday, November 3, 2013
I hate being sick.
Sure I hate being sick, who doesn't? But when you're already fighting cancer, it's like a damn slap in the face to get a bug. Boy, did I get a bug. Not only didn't I sleep, I spent that time trying to keep from throwing up. I did manage to sleep Friday, a little. Then I went to see my son march and play the tuba. They were one person short. He gave up his 3rd chair coronet spot, that he earned as a freshman, and volunteered to take on the tuba. He does well with it too. I'm pretty damn proud of him. But, of course there's caveat, I threw up an hour or so before we were gonna leave for the game. It's a mess, it wears me out, it makes me cranky, and it just plain sucks. So, I get calmed down from that, do the evening meds, and head out with my youngest daughter to watch her little brother march. We got there about 15 minutes before the coin toss, the band played the Star Spangled Banner. It still pisses me off when grown men my age can't take their fucking ball cap or cowboy off, and can't seem to find their heart with their right hand, when the National Anthem is played. Midland a patriot town? Not from what I've seen. Only when it makes them feel good about themselves or is convenient. Anyway, good game, I'm starting to hurt all over. Half time and the The Mighty Lee Rebel band is playing. They are good too. Suddenly I see why my kid is pissed off this year with his band. 3 trombone players, who've done the same routine all year, screw the pooch and forget where they are supposed to be. I feel Dec's frustration. I'm glad I got to watch him at least one more time, and the last time I'll see him march for a football game. Sometime tomorrow, if I'm not napping, I'll write him a letter telling him how proud I am of him and his hard work. In case he doesn't know that already.
This will probably be really short, since I've not slept again during the night. I don't know what it is. I got damn near 8 hours Friday into Saturday, the about a 3 hour nap. I suspect the nap is what did it, although I've napped like that before and gone straight to sleep. I didn't sleep Thursday, because I was afraid I'd puke and might aspirate a lot before I could get myself taken care of properly. I'd hate to give myself pneumonia because I aspirated vomit. How fun....not. So, I did sleep a bit on Friday during the day. But I purposely tried not to nap so I could sleep Friday night. And I did. From Midnight until eight Saturday morning. Kinda threw my feed/med times out of whack, but what the hell, I slept. Then I slept from 10-11, then from 1 until 4 PM, now I'm wide awake, a little over twelve hours after that last nap. Holy drool Batman, I need to get my patterns back in order.
There was a block party tonight that I forgot, or didn't know about. Chemo/Cancer brain is piss poor on short term stuff. Well, not all short term. But some. Lots of really good looking food. I kinda shy away from stuff like that, because I have pretty decent neighbors. I say that because I spent a lot of my time way crowded in, because the neighbors want to see how I'm doing. Genuinely, they want to know. But I get sorta claustrophobic in big crowds. Or tightly packed crowded space. I can be in the smallest of places at work I'm fine. Put me in a crowd that just keeps getting more tightly packed, I'll show you near panic. I've got really good neighbors. Probably better toward me that I have been in the past. I like all of them, but I didn't hang around with them much. We talk, we laugh, we've all had big meals at each others houses, generally for the entire block, or my birthday. I really am going to miss them, because they honestly care about each other on the block. That's a bit on the short end now days. This has always been kind of an old school block. We've all known each other, look out for each other and our kids. We've even wanted to throw down on each other once in a while. You know, like the good old days. The damnable shame of right now is this: I'd have loved to sat around and shot the shit with the neighbors, even if it meant writing everything out, skipping eating, or have that really good looking, extra damn cold bottle of beer I saw floating around. I couldn't though. The damn pain decided about 15 minutes after I got there to kick into over drive and knock the starch out of my sails. From my neck down to my waist was either a throbbing ache (muscle) or a stabbing pain (mouth and neck, assume here that it was cancer acting up) and I had to come home to take pain meds and sit. Bless their hearts, I gotta make it longer next weekend for the Goodbye Rocky BBQ. I wanted to call it the "Annual Goodbye Rocky BBQ" but that seemed kinda out of place.
Thanks to all of you friends of mine, old and new, and followers of this blog. You all checked on me a lot, and I appreciate that. I just didn't feel like writing anything, because I couldn't keep a clear thought running long enough for me to type it out. That's sad, because I'm a really slow typist. All of you are part of the reason I do the blog. Family first, then all you guys. I felt, when I started this, that Tom Godfrey should just shush, because I was gonna do a blog after about a month of pestering me to start one. I don't think it's the one he had in mind, but it's a blog. I don't know about all of you readers, but this is a damn good thing for me, on a therapeutic level. I can blow off some steam here. I get to put the thoughts that bother me on here. All the things I used to hash out with someone I could talk too, are on the blog now. It helps keep me a bit more even keeled, and I'm not constantly trying to tell Liz what's going on. She needs a break from all the shit that's going on with this. Everyone in the family does. It's a burden to carry all that they are feeling now, and I am unable to fix that. It bugs me to the Nth degree, because that's what Rocky did, he fixed things. All the time. Right now I'm the one that needs fixing, and that's a new role for me. I do as much for myself as I am able. Later on I'll need more help that I care to admit, so I'm hoping I'm kinda preparing the family for that time. It's gonna suck, and I'll probably be a pain in the ass for a while. No, no probably, I will be a pain in the ass.
So, here I sit Medicated up, dozing off, and snapping back awake. Sometimes when I do that I find several lines of "F" or "D" and many other letters that I've fallen asleep with enough pressure on that finger to let it repeat. Looks funny as hell, I laugh.
So, after being sick, I'm still way tired and my sleep patterns are all dicked up. It'll get better I'm sure.
Sunday's To Do....Live life like a toddler. Everything is new, cool, and in some cases, goes right into your mouth. Kids are smarter than adults, they'll try everything without hesitation. Not always safe, but at least they are learning, right?
Love ya kids.
This will probably be really short, since I've not slept again during the night. I don't know what it is. I got damn near 8 hours Friday into Saturday, the about a 3 hour nap. I suspect the nap is what did it, although I've napped like that before and gone straight to sleep. I didn't sleep Thursday, because I was afraid I'd puke and might aspirate a lot before I could get myself taken care of properly. I'd hate to give myself pneumonia because I aspirated vomit. How fun....not. So, I did sleep a bit on Friday during the day. But I purposely tried not to nap so I could sleep Friday night. And I did. From Midnight until eight Saturday morning. Kinda threw my feed/med times out of whack, but what the hell, I slept. Then I slept from 10-11, then from 1 until 4 PM, now I'm wide awake, a little over twelve hours after that last nap. Holy drool Batman, I need to get my patterns back in order.
There was a block party tonight that I forgot, or didn't know about. Chemo/Cancer brain is piss poor on short term stuff. Well, not all short term. But some. Lots of really good looking food. I kinda shy away from stuff like that, because I have pretty decent neighbors. I say that because I spent a lot of my time way crowded in, because the neighbors want to see how I'm doing. Genuinely, they want to know. But I get sorta claustrophobic in big crowds. Or tightly packed crowded space. I can be in the smallest of places at work I'm fine. Put me in a crowd that just keeps getting more tightly packed, I'll show you near panic. I've got really good neighbors. Probably better toward me that I have been in the past. I like all of them, but I didn't hang around with them much. We talk, we laugh, we've all had big meals at each others houses, generally for the entire block, or my birthday. I really am going to miss them, because they honestly care about each other on the block. That's a bit on the short end now days. This has always been kind of an old school block. We've all known each other, look out for each other and our kids. We've even wanted to throw down on each other once in a while. You know, like the good old days. The damnable shame of right now is this: I'd have loved to sat around and shot the shit with the neighbors, even if it meant writing everything out, skipping eating, or have that really good looking, extra damn cold bottle of beer I saw floating around. I couldn't though. The damn pain decided about 15 minutes after I got there to kick into over drive and knock the starch out of my sails. From my neck down to my waist was either a throbbing ache (muscle) or a stabbing pain (mouth and neck, assume here that it was cancer acting up) and I had to come home to take pain meds and sit. Bless their hearts, I gotta make it longer next weekend for the Goodbye Rocky BBQ. I wanted to call it the "Annual Goodbye Rocky BBQ" but that seemed kinda out of place.
Thanks to all of you friends of mine, old and new, and followers of this blog. You all checked on me a lot, and I appreciate that. I just didn't feel like writing anything, because I couldn't keep a clear thought running long enough for me to type it out. That's sad, because I'm a really slow typist. All of you are part of the reason I do the blog. Family first, then all you guys. I felt, when I started this, that Tom Godfrey should just shush, because I was gonna do a blog after about a month of pestering me to start one. I don't think it's the one he had in mind, but it's a blog. I don't know about all of you readers, but this is a damn good thing for me, on a therapeutic level. I can blow off some steam here. I get to put the thoughts that bother me on here. All the things I used to hash out with someone I could talk too, are on the blog now. It helps keep me a bit more even keeled, and I'm not constantly trying to tell Liz what's going on. She needs a break from all the shit that's going on with this. Everyone in the family does. It's a burden to carry all that they are feeling now, and I am unable to fix that. It bugs me to the Nth degree, because that's what Rocky did, he fixed things. All the time. Right now I'm the one that needs fixing, and that's a new role for me. I do as much for myself as I am able. Later on I'll need more help that I care to admit, so I'm hoping I'm kinda preparing the family for that time. It's gonna suck, and I'll probably be a pain in the ass for a while. No, no probably, I will be a pain in the ass.
So, here I sit Medicated up, dozing off, and snapping back awake. Sometimes when I do that I find several lines of "F" or "D" and many other letters that I've fallen asleep with enough pressure on that finger to let it repeat. Looks funny as hell, I laugh.
So, after being sick, I'm still way tired and my sleep patterns are all dicked up. It'll get better I'm sure.
Sunday's To Do....Live life like a toddler. Everything is new, cool, and in some cases, goes right into your mouth. Kids are smarter than adults, they'll try everything without hesitation. Not always safe, but at least they are learning, right?
Love ya kids.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
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
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
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
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
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
Monday, October 28, 2013
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
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
Friday, October 25, 2013
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
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
Thursday, October 24, 2013
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)