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
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
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
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
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
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
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, October 21, 2013
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
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
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