Haywood Jabloughme

I have been missing my friend Greg Honeywell lately. He passed away almost 2 years ago and I have been thinking about some of our times together. I used to play so many pranks on him, like this one here, and he tried (sometimes successfully) to get me back. Here is the one that came to mind today.

We had customers that would come into our office to fill out applications, bring in loan documents, etc. Greg and I had adjoining offices and, unless it was a private meeting, the door between our offices was always open. We would talk back and forth and it also made it very easy for me to prank him. So one day I stole his nameplate and I typed a card up that said HAYWOOD JABLOUGHME. I taped it over his name and put it back on his desk. I knew that Greg had an appointment with one of his frequent customers later that day so I was hoping that be wouldn't notice. This guy came into the office at least once a week and we always joked around with each other. The customer came in, said HI and went into Greg's office. The door was open between our offices and the customers back was to me. They talked for about 5 minutes and then I heard it. The guy snorted. He was trying to suppress his laugh but every few seconds he'd snort, snicker or laughing and Greg couldn't figure out why. The more Greg talked, the more the customer cracked up. Finally Greg asked if he was o.k. He turned around, looked at me and busted up laughing. He handed the nameplate to Greg who just stared at it. It took him a few seconds to figure out what it said. He finally looked up at me, mumbled something about me being an SOB and busted up laughing. Greg was such a jovial guy and had a great hearty laugh. He was an awesome person. I miss you Bitch and think of you often. R.I.P. buddy.

Happy Anniversary Julie. I love you.

You know, they say that things will happen when they are supposed to happen and to try and force an issue knocks nature out of balance. In order to have Spring, you must have Winter. All things have to have a chance to mature, to grow and to evolve naturally in order for the balance to remain. You pick an apple too soon and yes, it's still an apple, but it's often bitter and bad for you to eat. Left to ripen and mature that same apple can come to be the best thing that you have ever eaten.

Relationships are the same way. In order to know love, you must have known heartache. And in order to find true love and happiness you have to allow yourself to open up and let someone else become more important to you than you are to yourself. When the time comes you don't feel it in your head or even your heart. You feel it in your soul.

Julie often asks me if I wished that we had met sooner than later, gotten married earlier, avoided all the heartache that we had suffered before? My answer is always NO. We met at the time in our life that God intended us to meet. If we had met sooner, out of sync if you will, then it would have thrown the balance of things off and all of those things that happened to us, that molded us into the people that we are, would have never happened and we would not have what we have today. Like high school sweethearts that break up and then come together again 30 years later. God had other plans for them and then brought them back around.

Most people don't know that while Julie and I were dating, I broke up with her because I wasn't ready to be married again. I didn't feel that it was right and I refused to fail again. I was afraid of that commitment. I refused to open my heart and soul and I couldn't see that the person I let go was the best thing in my life. It was during this time of reflection and self realization that I finally realized that I wasn't afraid of failure, I was afraid of SUCCESS. I was afraid because what I felt was, for the first time in my entire life, true, deep, passionate love and that her love for me was completely unconditional. No strings. No hidden agendas. Nothing. But. Love. I, like most people, thought that I had felt love before, but it had been a conditional, what's in it for me love. What Julie was offering me was a love that I had never felt before and it scared me. I ran because I kept waiting for something awful to happen. Once I overcame those fears, my life changed for the best.

11 years ago today I made the best decision I have ever made and I married my beautiful wife. If your interested in all the mushy details, you can read all about the here, Our wedding. Julie, I thank God every day that he brought us together when he did and that he opened my eyes and made me see what was right in front of me. The perfect woman for me. My soul mate. A lot of people use that term loosely; Soul mate. But I honestly feel that no matter what, we didn't meet by chance. We were joined by fate. Destined by God to meet. Our souls were brought together at the perfect time in our life's so that we could spent eternity walking beside each other, hand in hand. I couldn't ask for a better wife, friend, companion and lover. We have been through things that would and have destroyed most relationships. These hurdles, instead of driving us apart, have bonded us together.

Happy Anniversary Julie.

I will love you always.

Does this toga make my butt look nice?

Most of the time, being my size is really cool. Being tall has a lot of advantages Being very tall has a few more. But the disadvantages of my size are really bad. The worst of which is just the toll that it takes on my joints etc. But one of the biggest disadvantages is trying to find clothes. And the expense of said clothes. Take socks for example. It cost me about $15.00 a pair for my socks. 1 pair. Not a package of 12, 1 pair. My shoe's--17EEEE. Julie, bless her heart, got me a pair of slippers for Christmas. She thought they would be big enough, size 16, but they were to tight across the top of my foot and I couldn't even get them halfway on. So I took them back the day after Christmas and traded then for a pair of sweat pants. They had a sale on the sweats if you bought 2 pairs so I did. Of course they didn't have them in stock but promised to have them out in 3-5 days. Well they were back ordered. I got a call a couple of days later telling me that they would be here on the 8th. The 8th came and nothing. So I called and was told that they wouldn't get here until the 12th. Luckily they came in on Friday. Unfortunately they sent me the WRONG sweats. These things were lightweight workout pants that were see through. Yeah...Those of you that know me; Close your eyes and imagine THIS, all of me, in see through sweat pants. And no you can't send me the therapy bills. When I called the company they told me that what was supposed to have been ordered doesn't even come in my size. Pisses me off. I really wish I could just buy my clothes off the rack and not have to fight to find stuff to wear.

My biggest hurdle is jeans. They have always been hard to find and because of that I had to wear dress slacks to school as a kid. Quite the fashion statement. Now, I wear a size 54X40 pant. 54 waist, 40" inseam. Again, those that know me realize that for me, that's pretty proprtionate. A 54" waist on someone 7'4" is a lot different than one on someone 5'9". And that's the problem. The manufactures seem to feel that the bigger your waist, the shorter your legs. They will make jeans with a 75 inch waist but with only 30 inch inseams!!. It seems, according to the clothing manufacturers, that there is a mass population of very short, extremely fat people walking around the earth. These people would literally be round. Imagine the blueberry girl for Willy Wonka.

Over the years I would find a random pair of jeans that would fit. Not always the best fit, sometimes a little shorter than I preferred, a lot of times I had to get them unhemmed but I was actually able to have A single pair of jeans to wear occasionally. About 10 years ago I finally found a place that made jeans in my size. I . WAS. ESTATIC. I had jeans. Real jeans. They fit, they were long enough. They were comfortable. I felt, for once, like a normal person. I bought about 6 pairs. That's all I could afford. They have lasted me all this time but unfortunately they have all decided to fall apart at the same time. Every single pair has been patched and re-patched, sewed and re-sewed.  So I finally decided that it was time to buy new jeans. Therein lies the problem. The only place that I could get my jeans through decided to quit making my them. I had one place, literally, in the whole world that I could get them through and they decided to quit making them. And whats just too funny? There was an article in the Buyers Edge newspaper the other day where the columnist was complaining about a recent clothes buying trip. http://buyersedgeks.com/BuyersEdgeFlip/2013/January/index.php#/5/zoomed
She wrote that she went jeans shopping, tried on 9 pairs of jeans, got discouraged, and went home. She complained about the length, the waist, the hips, the color or that the pockets sag. She complained that the manufacturer's needed to realize that not all women are built alike. Oh BOO FREAKING HOO. Cry me a damn river. Do you need some cheese with that whine? At least you had over 9 pairs of jeans to look at. I'd shit golden Twinkies to be able to find ONE style let alone 9. At least you can go to ANY store and find something that fits. I know, I know, I've heard it before. "They make big clothes and shoes for the basketball players and football players. Shaq wore a size 22 and he got shoes." And they do. But if your not a celebrity and can't afford to spend thousands of dollars on clothes then your not important. Example. A couple of years ago Reebok came out with their Zig series of shoes. They were supposed to offer the best support of any tennis shoe and they had made a pair of shoes for the tallest man in the world. So I started calling. For 3 days I tried talking to Reebok, seeing what I needed to do to get a pair of these shoes. I finally talked to someone in the special promotions and corporate sales division. Their answer? Oh well we only make custom and special sizes for professional athletes, celebrities, etc. Basically anything that they can get some type of publicity from. But us average citizens? We're shit out of luck. I was just shocked. It didn't matter if I could afford the shoes, they just didn't make them available for the general public. Doesn't matter that they can and that they DO make those shoes in my size EVERY DAY, they just refuse to allow the general public to purchase them.

So while this woman complains about her pockets sagging, I need to find someone from Greece to teach me how to tie a toga.

It's time to......GNARFEL THE GARFUNK

So here it is. The day that everyone has been waiting for and arguing about. We are given two, very unimpressive candidates to chose from. Quite frankly? They both scare me. We aren't EVER given the best candidates to chose from. Really, we're not. We are not given the best choices to vote for and who we depend on to run our country. We are asked to chose between the candidates that the parties select for us. People may say that we vote the candidate into the race but if the party wants a specific candidate, then that's who's going to be nominated. The parties will make sure that the person they want has all the money that is needed to last the race. They make big promises to big business: Oil, gas, electric, retail, real estate and commodities. And in exchange for large donations to the party. promises are made. "You help us get him into office and we'll help you get what you want". That's what a party means when they start grooming someone to be president. They are taught whose ass to kiss to get the most money and what to offer in return.

In the beginning the public is lead to believe that we have several candidates to choose from. We always start out with several people with ambitions to become president but most of their motives and desires are fueled by their own greed, ambitions and secret agendas. But there is always that one candidate in the mix that is there because he has already been pre-selected by the party to be the "ONE". They have already determined that he will be the party candidate. They just have to make sure the public believes that he was elected by them. It's like a magician and a card game. You're shown a card, it's put back in the pack. They magician already knows what the card is so he narrows the pack, always leaving your card in the stack. Eventually, he will narrow that pack down to YOUR card and you walk away amazed that out of an entire deck of cards, he was able to find yours. When a candidates ambitions align with the parties, a candidate is born. There's always enough money to feed the greed and when the ambitions are the same, the morality of the secret agendas are thrown out the window. If someone is willing to play ball, whose moral convictions always has a price on them and who looks good doing it, then ladies and gentlemen, we have a presidential candidate. The other candidates who just can't afford to continue, who can't afford to keep their secrets hidden and are afraid to have the deep dark secrets in their closets exposed, will drop out and fade away. In the end, we wind with the people who could financially afford to stay in the game the longest. Who had the most money and could afford constant trips across the country. In the end; We are stuck up with the candidate that they wanted. The last card in the deck.

Then in the final election we end up being faced with not voting for the best candidate, but voting for the lesser of two evils. It's like being asked to vote for a female ambassador to the U.S. and having to chose between Sonia on Operation Repo or Honey Boo Boo's mom.Watching people fight and argue over these two men is insane. Vote republican...Vote democrat. My candidate is better because of this.....Yours sucks because....In the end, they are both the same. They are both puppets to the same people. The only difference is the way they steal from us. One is a sly pick pocket, sneaking in and snatching your billfold while standing right next to you. The other is a bump and run specialist, who ignores the subtlety. He brazenly distracts you, takes what he wants  and walks away with your cash. It doesn't matter how they do it. We all get robbed in the end.

I have long believed that the first day our new president takes office is very special day. He's taken in, shown around the white house and made privy to things that only a handful of other people are allowed to know. Secrets that the public should never know; The alliance that the government has the drug cartels, the secrets behind Area 51, the truth about aliens, Fort Knox and nuclear weapons. He's formally introduced to all the staff, enlightened as to which interns are willing to help him sleep at night and where all of the hidden passage ways are.

Then, as the day wears on, after he has had a gourmet dinner, desserts of his choice and nice cigar, he is given the drink of his choice and is taken to the White House theater. There he is offered the best seat in the house and shown, from every angle, all the seen and unseen footage ever taken of the assassination of president Kennedy. He is shown all of the things that the public will never see, what actually led up to the assassination and who was truly responsible. After it is all said and done, he sets there staring at the screen with the same look in his eyes that a young child is told that there is no Santa Clause gets. The same look of terror that a young child gets after being told that mommy and daddy won't be coming home. EVER. As he's escorted out of the theater he is told; "Do you get the picture"?

For the first time in his entire career he goes to bed finally realizing that he has sold his soul. He sleeps restlessly, dreaming of contracts drawn up by the devil with his signature boldly written in his blood at the bottom.

The right to vote is guaranteed in the constitution and the government follows through with that. But just because you are guaranteed the right to vote, doesn't mean that your guaranteed a fair vote or that your vote even counts. Studies have showed that more and more people doubt the validity of our electoral process. They may vote, but it's really without any conviction and belief that they are doing any good. And with good reason. It is up to the electoral college to determine the presidency and if the electoral college doesn't agree with the popular vote, they can override the public and elect the president with the most electoral votes. Thereby basically telling the people that you can vote, but we still decide who we want. And I do not believe that anyone in the electoral college is above being bought. Since it's up to the state committee's to choose their members for the electoral college, they are going to chose members who will play ball to get the president they want.  

http://www.historycentral.com/elections/Electoralcollgewhy.html   

According to Alexander Hamilton and the other founders believed that the electors would be able to insure that only a qualified person becomes President. They believed that with the Electoral College no one would be able to manipulate the citizenry. It would act as check on an electorate that might be duped. Hamilton and the other founders did not trust the population to make the right choice. The founders also believed that the Electoral College had the advantage of being a group that met only once and thus could not be manipulated over time by foreign governments or others.

We all know that presidential elections are all dog and pony shows. Slight of hand on a grander scale. It is all a chess game and the candidates will all be put in a winning or losing scenario based upon how the government wants the game played, not us. It's not about today, tomorrow or even next year. It's based upon what they want to happen in 2, 3, 5 maybe even 10 years from now. The presidents are in office until their usefulness is gone and then they are retired. They don't lose elections, they are replaced; Given a nice golden parachute as an incentive to keep all the secrets they have learned close to the chest and with the reminder of what they were shown on their very first day.

Happy Election Day everyone.

So long Bob

Back in 1984 I was working a part time job as a bouncer at a bar in Wichita called Jammers. For people that remember Jammers, that's really all I need to say. For those that don't, Jammers was a very popular dance club that always had a line down the block. Everyone wanted in and like most bars they had their people that handled their liquor a lot better than others. Jammers was in a 3 story building without a ground floor. You had to walk up two flights of stairs to the front entrance. Once inside there was a stairway that went all the way to a basement. There was then a walkout to a little courtyard. From the landing by the front door, you could look over the railing and see all the way down to the courtyard. It was about a 30 ft. drop.  

I had been working there for about 3-4 days and it was a mid week night. I was still trying to get all oif the employee's names straight and getting to know all of the regulars. I was working the front door by myself and there was a moderate crowd. My front door co-worker had gone somewhere; Bathroom, pitcher run, trash check, etc. Whatever it was, it left me at the door by myself.

I was standing by the front door, scanning the crowd, when a large group of guys started walked in. I can't remember if they were there for a bachelor party, if they were a football team or what but there were a lot of them, some a lot bigger than others, and they were all pretty drunk and in a very loud and obnoxious mood. I asked the first one in the door for I.D and as more of them came in I realized that some of the party wasn't going to be able to come in. Jammers, like most clubs, had a dress code to prevent the gang banger's from coming in and to prevent other problems. Several of the guys did not meet the dress code and a couple of the one's that I had already asked for I.D. didn't have it. I started to explain the situation to them and the mood turned dangerous pretty quick. They started advancing towards me, yelling and screaming and calling me names. I tried to explain to them why they couldn't come in when one of them grabbed me and hit me. I punched him in the face, hit another two as they rushed in but the rest rushed me. I was able to fight them off for a couple of seconds but there were way to many of them and I got dragged out the front door. I was fighting, biting and kicking and then I realized that they had lifted me up over the banister and were trying to throw me over the railing to the courtyard below. I was already scared but the realization of being dropped 30 feet to a most certain death brought on terror and panic. I was sitting on the railing and they were trying to push me over the edge. While they were pushing, they were just beating the hell out of me. I wrapped my legs through the railing and was trying to defend myself and get enough leverage to get back off the railing. Now it was probably only less than a minute but it seemed forever when I noticed the front door open and heard someone yell and then I saw one of the guys in the back drop. Then another. And another. Another one turned around and something cracked him in the head and he fell down the stairs. The calvary had arrived and as more attention was diverted away from me I was able to start making my way off the railing and beating off the crowd. Within a minute or so the fight was over. Most of the guys that had just about killed me were nursing some pretty serious head wounds. The bodies went all the way from the balcony, down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. 

As more people came outside to help and things got sorted out, I realized that the person that saved me was Bob. I had met him a couple of days before. He was dating on of the bartenders and we had really hit it off, but I hadn't really had a chance to get to know him. Bob wasn't a very big guy at all. As a matter of fact he was pretty scrawny. He was about 35 years old (old back then LOL), 5'10" and weighed about a buck fifty, if he was lucky. He was also a lawyer. Now what made Bob so unusual as a knight in shining armor was the fact that he could barely walk. Bob had been in an extremely serious car accident that had killed his wife about 4 years earlier and it had crippled him. He had been in the hospital for months, rehab for years and was able to get around with the help of a cane. When he saw me being dragged out the front door he grabbed his cane and came to the rescue. When he walked outside, he started hitting everything he saw in the head with his cane as hard as he could. Most of those that he hit were knocked out cold and received a severe gash in the process. 

After everything was all done, we walked back into the club and I made the comment that I needed a drink. I wasn't old enough to drink liquor but that never stopped me. The owners knew that some of their employees weren't old enough but they didn't care as long as we were discreet. So I ordered something mixed and Bob looked at me and said "well son, that's half your problem. Real men drink scotch" LOL. I had my first scotch and water. Well, o.k. It was water with a little scotch. Scotch is definitely an acquired taste but as you go the less water you use. Bob's idea of scotch and water was a whole lot of scotch and an ice cube. And he tried to drink it fast enough that the ice never had a chance to affect the scotch in a negative way. 

Bob and I became fast friends. He had a beautiful yet extremely spoiled and ornery little girl, Shelle. She was about 4 years old and had him SO wrapped around her little finger. She was quite the little princess and Bob did everything he could but since her mom had died in the car accident there wasn't much of a positive female presence there. She became quite the tomboy and had her issues growing up but today she is a wonderful young woman with two ornery little boys of her own.

For the next 5 years or so we became really close friends. We would hang out, my girlfriend and I would go over and do BBQ's etc. I was in law enforcement and he was a lawyer so we had a lot of interesting conversations.

Unfortunately, Bob and I lost touch for several years. About 4 years ago I ran into Shelle when I was coming out of a little burger joint. I'm glad that she recognized me because I wouldn't have recognized her. She was a far cry from the little girl that I had known several years ago. She immediately called her dad and put me on the phone with him. It was like all of those years apart disappeared and our conversation took up where it had left off. You can always measure your true friends because those are the ones that even though you you haven't seen each other for years, it only seems like yesterday since you've talked. We hooked back up a couple of days later and we were both shocked at just how much 20 years can change a person. It was funny though when we realized that he knew of Julie from dealings around court and other attorneys but had no Idea that we were married. Small world.

Last September, when I was in Bastrop TX., I called Bob to see how he was doing. He informed me that he had been diagnosed with throat and esophageal cancer. The doctors had given him 6 months. He did have the opportunity to fight it and the success rate was good but the re-occurrence rate was high and the success rate after re-occurrence was low. He just didn't want to fight this for years on end. Quality of life VS quantity. I tried talking to him about it and he reminded me of something that he had said years ago. He said "whether we want to realize it or not we all start the process of dying from the day we are born". He had done the research with the doctors and his mind was made up. So he started the long final process of dying. I made him promise me though that he would wait until I got home. I got back to my hotel and sat in my room, in shock, and cried.

I had made it down to see Bob a couple of times since I got home and it never failed to shock me on just how much the cancer was taking away. I would sit and talk to him for a couple of hours. I would call and we would talk to each other often, sometime more often than others, but as we all know life gets in the way. 

I woke up yesterday morning and it started off as a typical Monday. The girls were here and they were getting their things done so that we could go swimming later in the day. I had just turned on Facebook and noticed a couple of messages but was taking care of a couple of other things. The phone rang and it was Julie. She told me that Shelle had sent her a message stating that she needed to get a hold of me but she couldn't find our number. I immediately called and she told me that overnight, Bob had taken a turn for the worse. He was unresponsive and hospice felt that the end was near. I made arrangements for the girls and drove as fast as I could to get to his side. 

When I got there I gave Shelle a hug and took up vigil beside my friends bed. I held his hand for hours saying prayers that God would help guide him and take him home. I reassured Bob that it was o.k. to let go, that we would all be o.k. and that I would help watch over Shelle. There were several times that we thought that he had finally let go but he kept fighting.

His breathing became more erratic and the social worker finally called hospice to send a nurse. When the nurse came in, I gave Shelle my chair so that she could hold her dad's hand. We gave her some time alone and I went back in about 15 minutes later and sat beside her near the foot of the bed. There were a few other of Bob's close friends there and they came in and stood at the foot of the bed. We were all talking. It may sound strange, our friend was dying, but we were telling "Bob" stories and laughing and talking like he was a part of the conversation. I would like to think that all of our laughing finally made Bob realize that it was all o.k.

At about 5:15pm, we all watched as Bob took his last breath and finally shed all of the pain and suffering that he had endured for the past year. He had finally gone home to his wife and another daughter that had passed away years earlier.

I went to the kitchen, got some glasses and poured 4 shots of scotch. I took them back to the bedroom and we all said a toast and goodbye to Bob.

Robert Charles Manning was a very unique individual. He had a sense of humor that was infectious and  an opinion about everything. Most people that he met walked away liking him even if he didn't like them. You knew your place with Bob and if you weren't sure where it was he would be more than happy to tell you. His personality was outstanding. He called a spade a spade, wasn't afraid to tell you what he thought and LOVED his scotch and cigarettes. His big bristle mustache and broad toothy smile arrived 1 minute before he did. He was rude, crude, socially unacceptable and totally unfit for human consumption yet was a welcome sight everywhere he went.

And he was my friend. And I miss him dearly.

We all love you very much and even though we are sad that you are gone we are glad that you are now without pain.

Rest in peace Bob. I love you.

Surgery update

Just to let everyone know that my upcoming knee surgery has been postponed. Not that it really hurts my feelings to much considering that I wasn't really looking forward to it in the first place. I want to say thanks for all of the concern and well wishes that came pouring in from everyone.

The reason for the delay is because other health issues have taken precedence. As many of you know, I have been having some serious issues with diverticulitis. Such to the point that I have been hospitalized several times over the past year or so because of flare ups and I even had a rupture last November that landed me in the hospital for about a week. These hospital stays really take a toll on me. While I'm in the hospital I basically live on saline solution, IV antibiotics and pain medication. By the time I come home I am so weak. I usually lose about 25-30lbs and I can barely get out of bed. It usually takes me another week before I can stay up all day without having to lay down for a while. 

Because of all of the problems, they finally did a colonoscopy and I was expecting the worse. I figured that the test would show that the area of my colon affected by the diverticulitis would be in real bad shape and need to come out. This really bothered me because I was afraid that I would need a colostomy bag etc. The Dr. came in and told me that everything looked GREAT. There was some mild irritation in the area of the diverticulitis but nothing serious. No reason to go in and resect that area. 

So I was pumped. I felt great. It was the best news that I had heard in a long time. 

Two weeks later. 

Julie and I were supposed to go up to South Dakota for the christening of our new god-daughter whom I affectionately call Baby A.  We were excited about going but we were on the fence. Weather up there can be extremely unpredictable and going up this time of year could get you stranded for a week. Or longer. We were considering several things but were about 70% sure we were going. 

Now the main thing about diverticulitis is that you don't know when it flares up if it is just because of something that you ate or if it is something more serious. AND you never know if you eat something if it is going to cause an issue. There are some foods that most doctors say to avoid. Anything with small seeds; Strawberries, kiwi fruit, etc. Some say nuts, others say it doesn't matter. It is different for each person, so it's really a trial and error thing. Some of things that you think would cause issues don't and others that you think would be just fine, will double you over feeling like someone just ran you through with a sword. You never know if it will go away or fester up. 

So, the Tuesday before we were supposed to leave, I started getting the pains again. Nothing serious but if I moved wrong I would feel the twinge in my side. Wednesday was worse. Now I was getting the intermittent stabbing pains in my lower left side. I was still in that grey area where it could go away on it's own but not bad enough to go to the hospital. I knew what the doctor would say; Give it a day or so and see what happens. It was possible that I was one good dump away from feeling alright again. There's really nothing they can do at this stage. 

Thursday night things started to get more serious. I called the GI doctor and he said he could call in a script if I wanted but that he wanted me to call him in the morning if it was worse and he would have me come in first thing in the morning. I told him that It didn't quite feel like it had when it ruptured but it still hurt non the less.

I had a pretty restless night and when I woke up Friday, I was done. I called the doctor back and told him that I was going to the hospital. He said he would call them and let them know that I was coming in.

A CAT scan revealed that it was indeed diverticulitis but thankfully there wasn't a rupture. So I was admitted and started on the ritual of fluids, antibiotics and pain meds.

My GI wasn't on call that weekend but one of his colleagues was. He came in and talked to me and basically said that even though the colonoscopy came back clean, the area that keeps giving me problems would probably have to be taken out. He said that in situations like mine, where re-occurances keep happening, the only way to truly get rid of the problem it to remove it.

Now he explained it better than anyone else had. Diverticula are small bulging pouches that can form anywhere in your digestive system. When you develope these Diverticulum it is known as Diverticulosis. Diverticulitis is when the Diverticula become inflamed. It causes severe abdominal pain etc. Just like everyone has an appendix. everyone developes Diverticula. Some flare up, some don't. Those that do, they don't know why they do, they just do. And after it flares up one to many times, it's best to go in and take care of the situation while it's calmed down instead of waiting for it to burst and cause potential fatal problems.

I have agonized trying to figure out what I can eat, what I can't, what will cause a flare up, what won't. The doctor told me that basically, aside from real small seeds (and even that is debatable) they really don't know what causes it. We, as humans, like to think that we can control it by diet because we want to feel in control of it. But there really is nothing that can be done. Increasing the fiber in your diet helps but it's not the cure. That and avoiding any foods that don't really digest, such as corn.

So I was in the hospital for 4 days. I told Julie to take the girls and go to South Dakota so that she could be there for the christening. There was no reason for them to stay, there wasn't anything that she could do while I was in the hospital, so she went to South Dakota, helped throw some holy water on Baby A and had a great weekend.

So. I had an appointment with the GI doctor last week and he set me up with a GI surgeon. I go see him tomorrow. My doctor did tell me that if surgery was going to happen that they would probably put me on antibiotics for a week of so to make sure that everything was calmed down so that when they did the resection, it wouldn't be inflamed and cause problems. It is actually a very routine surgery if done in a controlled situation versus an emergency situation. They should be able to do it through laproscopy. I really didn't want two surgeries so close together, so I canceled my knee surgery to allow time for the resection to heal and my body to recover.

I will keep everyone informed as to what the status is, and as always, send out those prayers. I can use all I can get.

Thanks everyone.

Knee Surgery

I went to the orthopedic surgeon yesterday and I have to get my left knee replaced. This really comes as no surprise. I have had problems with my knees for years and I have had to go in and get cortisone shots in my left knee every 2 months for over a year now. There is no cartilage in my knee at all. It is bone on bone. The cushion behind my kneecap is gone too. I have bone spurs in the joint and there are a few growing out of the joint, up the side of the knee like boars tusk. Surgery is set for February 20th.

The thought of surgery, frankly, scares the hell out of me. And I don't mean in like a "someone jumps out and says BOO" scare, I mean it SCARES me.. BAD. It terrifies me. Now I know that a lot of you reading this will look at it and say "hell, I've had my knee done or I know someone who had theirs done and it's no big deal".

Well for me it is a big deal. My close friends understand why this is and what happened to me. For those of you that don't, here's why I am a little more than gun shy.

In October of 2007 I had my right knee replaced. It was irreparable. I had 3 arthroscopic surgeries done, Syn-Visc injections, Cortisone shots, etc. The pain had become unbearable. It was bad but not as bad as my left knee has become.

The surgery went well. I was in the hospital for a week and then spent a week in rehab. My therapy was going incredibly well. I was progressing much better than anyone expected. I got to come home after 2 weeks and all looked great.

On November 7th I went to bed feeling o.k. but I woke up in the middle of the night sick. I thought maybe I was coming down with the flu. I was running a fever, was nauseous and couldn't get comfortable. I tried to make it to the bathroom but my knee was bothering me and I ended up falling in the bathroom. Julie had a migraine that night and had taken medicine that had knocked her out. I really didn't think it was to serious so I went back to bed and tried to sleep it off.

As the night wore on the symptoms got worse. I was burning up, vomiting and I was delirious. I finally fell into a very restless sleep sometime around 6am. Julie got up for work at her normal time. Most mornings consisted of her getting up for work and I usually sleep through it. I may wake up but the most intelligent conversation from me resembles that of a caveman like "UG". This morning was no different. She asked me if I was o.k. and I responded with my customary "UG". I was tired, sick and just wanted to sleep. It just didn't occur to me that it could be anything serious. I thought that I just needed rest. To this day it bothers Julie. She beats herself up thinking that there was something that she should have done.

By 9am I realized that this was not just the flu. I called my mom who lives about a mile away to see if she could come help me out. She got to the house about 10 minutes later and I told her that I needed an ambulance. I had dropped the house phone after hanging up with her and she couldn't find it. The only phone that we had was an old disconnected cell phone that the girls played with. It still had a charge and she was able to call 911 with it. Thank God for that little law. By the time the ambulance got here, I was pretty much unconscious. I remember people coming into the room but I don't remember anything else.

One of the employees for the City of Sedgwick called Julie at work and told her that I was being rushed to the hospital and that I was unresponsive. She got to St. Francis as soon as she could. The doctors told her that I was having a total system shutdown, that my body was septic but they didn't know why. Whatever I had was attacking all of my organs causing mass organ failure. They told her that they would do everything that they could but that she should probably start making funeral arrangements because it was doubtful that I would make it through the night. She looked at the doctor and told him that they didn't know who they were dealing with. That there was no way that I would go out like that.

She called all of our friends and family and within an hour a couple of dozen people were outside of my room. I later found out that my best friend and brother Shannon had sat by my bed for several hours a day, every day, holding my hand, talking to me and watching TV. He would stay there with Julie and when Julie couldn't be there, he was. He didn't want me to be alone. He worked nights and would get of at about 4am. He would go home, get a couple of hours of sleep and then come to the hospital. He did this every day for about two months but then had to go out of town for business. My other brother and best friend Alvin was also a constant by my bedside. He heard about me being in the hospital while he himself was in the hospital. He was two floors above me recovering from a heart attack. He had gone to visit his wife and daughter in the Philippines and had a heart attack on the plane. He didn't realize it until he got home. 

For 5 days the doctors told Julie that they were doing everything they could. And everyday they told her to prepare for the worse. She was an emotional wreck. My kidneys and liver had shut down, I was on dialysis, I couldn't breath on my own and I had developed pneumonia. I had contracted rhabdomyolysis, (rhabdo) which is a disease that eats the proteins of your muscles. When muscle is damaged, a protein called myoglobib is released into the bloodstream. It's then filtered out of the body by the kidneys. It then breakdown into substances that can damage the kidney cells. Thus the kidney failure. When one thing went wrong it created a domino affect.

On that 5th day one of the nurses took Julie outside and told her that she needed to get an infectious disease doctor. Julie was stunned. She assumed that they had already assigned me one. She immediately told them to call Dr. Tom Moore. She had heard of him from some other people and was told that he was the head infectious disease Dr. in the state. He was able to make it to the hospital a couple of hours later and after reviewing the test results and lab work he diagnosed me with the MRSA super staph infection, (Methicillin-resistane Staphylococcus aureaus) and that it had gone septic. The MRSA infection is caused by a strain of staph bacteria that become resistant to the antibiotics that are commonly used to treat ordinary staph. MRSA, infections occur in people who have been in hospitals, nursing homes, dialysis centers etc. When it is contracted in these locations, it's known as health care-associated MRSA (HA-MSA). HA-MRSA infections typically are associated with invasive procedures or devices, such as surgeries, IV tubing or artificial joints. So to put it in layman's terms it is a multi-antibiotical resistant staph infection. Septic MRSA is fatal in 97% of the people that get it.


Dr. Moore immediately took charge and completely changed my treatment. All medications were changed and new procedures put in place. The treatment course that the the hospital had me on was doing nothing to treat the infection. so basically I was just circling the drain. He later told Julie that if he hadn't have changed the treatment schedule and put me on the correct medicines that I would have died within 24hrs.

When I woke up I had no idea where I was, what day it was, what time it was or even how old I was. It was 5 days before my 43rd birthday when I was rushed to the hospital and I had no idea how long it had been. I did know that I couldn't move. I couldn't move my arms, legs or head and my right leg was killing me, I was on a respirator so I couldn't talk and all I saw was a white ceiling and all I heard were machine's beeping. I thought that it was the middle of the night because it was real quiet and no one was in the room but I wasn't sure. I was scared to death.

The next time I woke up Julie was there. She stood over me looking down into my eyes. She looked like an angel. Over time she was able to explain to me what had happened. I had been in a coma and on a respirator for about 3 weeks. The MRSA and rhabdo had devastated my body.

They ended having to replace my right knee five times. Just when they thought they got rid of the infection, it would re-manifest in my knee. They finally had to take my knee out and put in a concrete knee with antibiotic spacer. I had to leave that in for 4 months then go back in and replace it with a new knee. With the muscle loss and the other issues they were unsure whether I would be able to walk again. 

The out-pour of support was incredible. Julie belonged to an online mom's group and she got much needed physical and emotional support from several people that she had never met before. They cooked meals, helped her clean the house, watched the girls so that she could come to the hospital and see me and so on. Our family and friends really stepped up and helped us in every way possible. My brother Larry stepped in and did repairs around the house and built a wheelchair ramp for us.

On November 12th, 2008, my 44th birthday, I was released from rehab and sent home. I was able to walk out of the rehab facility with the aid of a walker.

From October of 2007 to November of 2008, I spent a total of 11 months in hospitals, nursing homes or rehab centers. Over the course of the year I had gone from 460lbs. to 212lbs. I lost about 70% of my muscle mass.

Four years later.....

The side affects from the MRSA are permanent. I am on lifetime antibiotics and numerous other medicines. My memory has been affected and things just don't quite "fire" right. I know what I want to say but can't or I try to name something and can't put a name to it. My lung capacity is about half of what it used to be so I get winded easily. My muscle mass is only about 60% of what it used to be. The rhabdo really messed me up. My speech has been affected. I slur certain words and I can no longer sing, something that I really miss. I used to have a pretty good singing voice. The peripheral neuropathy has worsened so it makes walking very painful and between it and the muscle loss, my balance is bad.

I have been in and out of the hospital with other issues that were caused by the MRSA infection. I have had other surgeries since this and they have gone okay but the fear of this new surgery is weighing on me heavily. I don't have much of a choice. The pain in my knee has become unbearable. I can't keep getting the injections and without them or the surgery I will be in a wheelchair.

This is a different surgeon than the one that I used before and he told me that there have been significant changes in the way that the surgery is performed. They take extra steps to prevent infections that were never used before. The surgery is much less invasive than it was 4 years ago and because of this the hospital and recovery time is less. That sets my mind at ease a bit but I am still very scared. If there was anything else I could do I would. The good news is that it has been over 3 years since I was released with no signs of infection.

I will try to keep everyone updated.

Wish me luck and if you have any spare prayers laying around I could use them.

Thanks everyone.

August 15th 1999

For many of my facebook friends, this note will look familiar. But I feel the need to repost this in honor of my father. I wanted to share this with my new blog friends as well.

Today brings back a combination of fond and sad memories. I think back to the evening of August 13th of 1999. It was Friday the 13th. I was living in Park City KS. and my girlfriend at the time, Lisa, lived about 3 miles away from my parents who lived in Mulvane KS.

That night, Lisa and I had my parents over to her house for grilled steak, baked potatoes, salad, homemade pie etc. We all had a wonderful time and my pop stuffed himself so full that he could hardly move. He ate one big steak and half of another one. Now these weren't little steaks. These things weighed in at about 22 oz. so to put away one and a half of them was a feat in itself. We all sat around and talked for a couple of hours and then mom and pop went home. After they left, Lisa and I cleaned up the dishes and put the food away. While we were putting the food away we ran out of aluminm foil. With no foil we just kept the leftover steak on the plate and covered it with saran wrap, put it in the fridge and went to bed.

I don't really remember much about Saturday. It's funny that I can remember every detail about that dinner Friday night. I remember the look on my pops face and just how funny he was because he had stuffed himself so much. He was joking around, commenting on how great the dinner was, telling funny stories about his childhood and grumbleing that he had to undo his pants just to be comfortable.

But Saturday doesn't hold any solid memories at all. It was pretty much like most Saturdays; Breakfast, watching cartoons with the kids, some shopping, mowing the yard and lounging around but nothing jumps out at me like Friday and Sunday.

The next day, Sunday, August 15th, Lisa and I got up early, got the kids around and decided to take the kids swimming in Derby. Her sister had an apartment with a pool  so we spent most of the day there playing in the water. We packed a picnic basket and ate lunch by the pool. We finally left around 3:30pm. It was one of the hottest days of the year. It topped out at about 100 degrees but with the humidity the heat index was about 110.

We went by Lisa's house first so that she could get some clothes to take over to my house. While we were there, I called my parents house to talk to my pop. Mom answered and I asked if dad was there. She mentioned that he had just come in from mowing. They lived out in the country and had about 2 acres that needed mowed. They had a riding mower but with the heat index so high it was not the best time to mow. Mom called for him and I could here him in the background say "tell him I'll call him after I get out of the shower". She replied "you tell him. Here". Pop got on the phone and said "let me call you back. I'm hot, sweaty and dirty". I told him that we were going to my house and to call me there or I would give him a call when we got home and hung up.

We packed up and headed home. When we got there Lisa hopped in the shower and I started to get the bath ready for Chance. We were there for maybe 5 minutes when the phone rang. I noticed on caller I.D. that it was my parents. I answered the phone and said "well pop, did you get all the dirt off?" But it wasn't him. It was my mom and she was crying. I said "mom, whats wrong?. She said "Roy, You need to come down here right now".  She told me that my dad had fallen and that I needed to get there right away. I asked if he was o.k. and she said she didn't know. I asked if he could talk and she said no. She said he was unconscience. I asked if he was breathing and she said "not on his own". She informed me that the paramedics were working on him but that there wasn't any response. By this time I was in a panic and questions flooded my mind. She then told me that he didn't fall  but had collapsed in the bathroom. By this time, I was running through the house, yelling for Lisa to get out and get ready. I told her what happened and that we needed to go now!! I called my ex (who lived a couple blocks away), told her what happened and that I needed to drop Chance off. I broke about every traffic law there was getting down there. 

When we got to my parents house the driveway and road was filled with rescue vehicles so I came up through the back acre. Everyone was outside. My sister, niece, nephews, neighbors, etc. I went into the covered porch and looked through the front window. The paramedics were still working on my dad and they were getting the gurney ready to take him to the hospital. They were still trying but I could tell that he was gone.

We all followed the ambulance to the hospital. On the way I was calling everyone else to let them know what was going on and that we were on the way to the hospital. We got to the hospital and after a short wait, the ER doctor came in, and at about 6:30pm we were informed that my pop had died. He was 75. They said that they didn't know for sure what happened but they think he either had a heart attack or an aneurysm. Whatever it was, he died instantly.

We all went back to my parents house and as I walked in I realized that this was no longer their house but my mom's house. His pipe smoke still lingered in the air. His slippers by the chair. Everything around me suggested that he should walk in the door. That he was still there. But the stark reality was, that he was dead. Just a few short hours ago, he walked in the door from mowing the lawn an now he was gone. I went into the bathroom and, there on the wall, was a hole that was created when he fell. Sitting down and talking to my mother I realized that I had talked to my pop about a minute before he died. He told me that he would call me back, went into the bathroom, and died.

Still numb from the nights events and still trying to wrap my mind around what had happened, we left and went to Lisa's house. On the drive I just operated on auto pilot. I was in shock. It still didn't seem real. I couldn't cry. Even when they told us that he was gone tears didn't come. I felt bad because I hadn't cried yet but for some reason they didn't come.

When we got to Lisa's house we just sat and talked for a while. Mostly just talking about what had happened over and over again trying to make sense of it all. I was angry that he had died, wondering why him, etc. I wasn't mad at him...just mad that it was him. Was there anything that I could have done? I was 3 miles away from him when I talked to him. Was there anything in his voice that I should have noticed? As we were backing out of the driveway, my dad was dying. Even as I sit typing this it still seems unreal.

Anyway, I got up and went to the kitchen to get me a drink. When I opened the refrigerator I grabbed the pitcher of iced tea. I scanned the fridge and as I did it hit me. There, on the bottome shelf, was his leftover steak. Just two short days ago he was sitting with me in this room eating dinner, laughing, joking, and groaning from over-eating. That steak was the straw. I picked it up off the shelf, collapsed to the ground and cried. I cried for the loss of the man who taught me to be a man.

Three days later we laid my pop to rest. I sat beside his casket at the funeral home, and even though it may not be the manliest thing, I held his hand and cried. For about an hour I sat beside him and through tears I let my pop know that he was the best father that a person could ever have. At the cemetary, before lowering him into the ground, I kissed the top of his casket, kissing by pop goodbye.

It has been 12 years since my pop died and there is not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. I wish that he was able to live long enough to meet Julie and the girls. Through pictures and stories my wife and daughters have learned who their father-in-law and grandpa was.

He was a great husband, father, grandfather and most of all....mentor and friend.

I love you pop and I miss you very much.

Dedicated to my father
Loren R. Wilkinson
Born 9-29-23
Died 8-15-99

Breaking the mold.

I was reading a blog by one of my fellow bloggers,Cmom, who has decided to re-enter the dating scene after being widowed about 10 years ago. She, like many other people in in our 40's and even older generations, has realized that our perceptions of what we look for in a partner has drastically changed from the time that we started dating. In high school all the guys wanted the beautiful, trim, petite, small butted, big breasted cheerleader and all the girls wanted the handsome, tall, muscular, football player with the tight ass and nice car. It didn't matter that they were treated like shit or cheated on by their choices. What mattered was the status that being with someone like  that gave you in school. What everyone else thought. And in most cases the ordinary boys and girls that were left in the wings never seemed to end up together because dating someone like that always ended up causing you to be harassed and deemed social misfit's by the "cool kids".

What is even more unfortunate is that these characteristics and perceptions follow us into adult life. And sometimes, in women more so then men., these perceptions become so habit forming that they become dangerous. Girls that tend to be abused when they are younger tend to seek that behavior in the men they date. I compare this behavior to that of someone who has been in prison for several years. They hate being there. They long to be free. But when they are finally released and able to do what they want they realize that they are afraid of the freedom that they have so longed for. It is not comfortable to them. They aren't sure of what is going to happen next. So, out of fear of the unknown, they commit a crime and go straight back to prison. They may not like it but it is familiar to them. They know what they can and cannot do and what will happen if they screw up.

Same thing in an abusive relationship. The women want to be out of the relationship but when they find someone that treats them right it is virgin territory to them. Someone treats them nice and they aren't used to it. Even though they like it, they don't know where the lines are. Where is the line in the sand? What can they or can't they do to get abused. The fear of being abused is always there so they walk around on eggshells. In a lot of cases they finally go back because even though they don't like the abuse, it is more familiar to them and easier to predict.

After being out of the dating scene, trying to find that right person can be very scary and intimidating. As we get older we are like cars that have been setting for awhile. Our tires are kind of sunk into the ground, our luster starts to fade and getting out of the rut can be hard. Being intimidated or just naive makes people go  back to old habits. You start looking for what you think you want not realizing that your doing it. Sometimes you just don't see the forest for the trees. My story of my wife and I, A love story, is a pretty typical example of that. Mine wasn't so much of me looking for a specific type of person, well maybe it was, but I, like so many others, kept dating the people that shit on us the most and when I finally found the diamond in the rough I was to blinded by my own mis-perceptions that I almost missed out on the best thing to ever happen to me. But it is pretty funny how our preferences and outlook on things change when we get older. Things like stability, loyalty, honesty and integrity far outweigh looks, height, weight, boob size and bravado. We start looking for Mr. or Mrs. right and not Mr. or Mrs. right now. Who are we going to grow old with. Suddenly the thought of growing old alone becomes all to real.

I do feel that one of the biggest mistakes that many married people make is thinking that relationships are 50/50 propositions. You hear it all the time. Advice at weddings. "Remember kids, marriage is a 50/50 proposition". To me this is the worse advice that can be given at weddings. Each person must be willing to do their part, but the saying that marriages are 50/50 is just not true. Marriages are 100% propositions and there are going to be times when your partner can't give their 50%. In fact, there are very few times that it is 50/50. In that case, the other partners must be willing to go that extra step and pick up the slack without holding it against the other person. There are times when it is going to be 40/60, 20/80 or hell even 5/95. That holds true in our case. When Julie and I were married, I was healthy. I was able to do more around the home, help take care of things better. When my health changed and I became disabled, our "50/50" relationship changed. It is more 30/70. What happened to me, in 90% of the cases, ends marriages. Most spouses don't stick around. It even amazed the Dr's. and nurses. They said they see it all the time when there is a prolonged hospital stay. The spouse is there every day, then a couple of times a week, then once a week and eventually, they just fade away. Next thing they know, there is a process server serving divorce papers because the spouse can't handle it. I feel that when couples go into a marriage thinking that it is a 50/50 proposition that they set themselves up for failure. You always hear it in a divorce. The other partner didn't do THEIR half.

I am glad that I was finally able to break away from the mold that I had created. The mold that I thought my perfect woman had to fit into. By breaking away from it I was able to find the perfect woman for me. The woman that I didn't even know was the one right for me until she showed me. It reminds me of the scene from the movie "Weird Science". At the end, Gary tells Deb, that Lisa was the girl of his dreams, what he wanted, before he realized what he wanted. I love my wife more than anything in the world. She has given me two beautiful girls, loves me like there is no tomorrow and has stood beside me in my highest and lowest points in my life, including a year long hospital stay.

She tells me that she finally got her tall, handsome, muscular football player with the tight ass and I tell her that I finally got my beautiful, petite, big breasted cheerleader. It doesn't matter anymore what anyone else sees or thinks. I have found the love of my life and if she doesn't fit into the mold of what other people think than I feel sorry for them.

And even though it is somewhat strange to think that she was in kindergarten while I was graduating from high school, I lay in bed at night and think to myself; SELF your a 47 yr old man with a smoking hot 35 year old wife. Even if she does need glasses LOL.

Good luck Lisa. I hope you find someone.

I feel honored and humbled

I received a notice today from a fellow blogger that really made my day and was very humbling. I big thank you goes out to Heather who is the author of the blog http://www.myhusbandateallmyicecream.com/ She gave me an award today for my blog. Now I wasn't alone in her recognition but I was very surprised and extremely honored to be recognized.

Check out Heathers site and the others recipients of the blogger awards. You won't be disappointed.

So, Heather, thank you so much for the award. I will work diligently trying to live up to everyones expectations LOL.

Finally....Some Answers

In 2006 I was diagnosed with acute degenerative peripheral neuropathy. The collective response muttered under most peoples breath is; What the hell is acute degenerative peripheral neuropathy? Good question.

Neuropathy is a condition that affects over 20 million Americans and is typically associated with diabetes. It is nerve damage. Basically the nerve endings die due to lack of circulation. It primarily affects the feet and legs and causes numbness and severe pain in the affected area. And it really goes beyond that. The numbness and pain are hard to describe. One of the comparisons that I often use is the that it's almost like the pain and burning sensation that you get when you put your frozen feet in hot water after playing out in the snow. Except it's a constant pain. I can step on glass or a sticker and not feel a thing. But if I step on a rock it feels like someone is sticking a knife through my foot. I can't feel someone touching my feet but rubbing my feet is extremely painful. What really sucks? I can feel the itch but I can't feel the scratch to get rid of it.

The biggest danger that people with neuropathy face is sores. Since there is little or no feeling in the affected area, it is easy for a minor sore to turn into a serious issue. A shoe doesn't fit right and it rubs a sore on the foot; you step on something and don't realize that it cut your foot, etc. Poor circulation to the area doesn't allow it to heal as quickly as it normally would. If the sore isn't noticed it can get infected easily and left too long it can eventually lead to amputation.

Neuropathy is very debilitating and often leads to permanent disability. I my case, I am unable to stand for very long and I have difficulty walking for any distance. My posture is reminiscent of a swan in heat. My arms stick out a little and the pain in my feet tends to make me bend forward a little. My balance is affected and my bad knees don't add into the mix well.

My neuropothy has puzzled my doctors since day one. I am not diabetic and I haven't had other issues that typically cause neuropathy. They have even told me that they think my height may be the cause. I have had several nerve conductivity tests performed on me, part of which includes a needle test. Basically they take a needle and start poking you in several different spots to see if you can feel it. The Dr. asked me to close my eyes and before I knew it she was done. I didn't even realize that she had done the test. I felt about 3 pokes out of about 50-60. My legs were covered with little red blood spots from all of the sticks. 

In February I had a CT Mylogram done. That's where they inject dye and then take a series of x-rays. They did this to see whether there was an issue with a pinched nerve in my back. Then in May I had a nerve block (epidural) done in my back to block the nerve to my right leg. It worked almost immediately. It didn't help with the numbness but the pain was almost completely gone. I felt fantastic...For about 3 weeks. Not near long enough. After the shot wore off I went back to my "swan in heat" posture.

Today I had an appointment with a neurologist to see if they could shed some light on my problem. I found out a couple of interesting tidbits.

The neurologist informed me that the CT Mylogram wasn't done correctly. They didn't inject the dye into the the correct area and because of that they didn't put the nerve block in the right area either. Like I said, it worked temporarily, but they think that if it would have gone in the right area then it might actually work the way it's supposed to.

After running some more test and taking x-rays that required me to bend every way possible and assume positions just shy of sticking my head up my ass they came back with a possible cause. Since the CT Mylogram wasn't done correctly they didn't get a clear picture, but he was able to see enough to think that I may have Spinal Stenosis.

According to the Mayo Clinic;

Spinal stenosis is a narrowing of one or more areas in your spine — most often in your neck or lower back. This narrowing can put pressure on the spinal cord or spinal nerves at the level of compression.
Depending on which nerves are affected, spinal stenosis can cause pain or numbness in your legs, back, neck, shoulders or arms; limb weakness and incoordination; loss of sensation in your extremities; and problems with bladder or bowel function. Pain is not always present, particularly if you have spinal stenosis in your neck.

Spinal stenosis is commonly caused by age-related changes in the spine. In severe cases of spinal stenosis, doctors may recommend surgery to create additional space for the spinal cord or nerves.

I had back surgery in 1995 and 1997 and had a fusion done. I have hardware in my back and right above the hardware there appears to be a narrowing of the spinal cavity which the Dr. believes is pinching the nerves running down my legs. That may not be causing the numbness but it is public enemy #1 in the pain area.

When the Dr. told me this I felt a huge weight lifted off of me. I have lived with this pain for so long, not knowing what the cause is and to hear that I may have a way to alleviate the pain was fantastic news. I have always felt that there was something going on but no one could pinpoint it. Hopefully this is it.

The neurologist wants me to get another nerve block done. This time in the correct area. He said that I will need to get another CT Mylogram done but he wants to get the nerve block done as soon as possible to help with the pain then go from there.

Hopefully it will work. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. 

July 1st

I meant to get to this blog on the 1st but one thing let to another so it is a couple of days late.

It used to be that the 1st of July was just another day. Well. I'll take that back. It was kind of a special day because it is the day that they start selling fireworks around our area. It meant that July 4th was right around the corner. The sounds of firecrackers, bottle rockets, roman candles and other pyrotechnics reverberate through the still night air into the wee hours of the morning. The ritual lighting of BBQ grills, the smells of charcoal, grilled food and gunpowder wafting though the air; the sounds of children playing in the pools, the gathering of friends and family for the holiday.

However, July 1st, 2008 will be a date that sticks with me forever. It is one of those days that when it happens, you know that you will always remember where you were.

It had started as an ordinary day. My son, my best friend Alvin and myself had some running that we needed to take care of that day. We did our running at Walmart, etc. then decided to drop by World Buffet in Wichita and take advantage of their all you can eat happy hour lunch buffet. Between the 3 of us we could put a serious hurt on a Chinese buffet. We were all sitting around the table laughing and eating when I received the call from my wife, Julie. What she said in that 30 second phone call changed our life, and many others, forever. I told Alvin that we needed to get home as soon as possible. Trying to keep my emotions in check, I paid our bill and we left.

When we got home, I took my son Chance back into my bedroom and told him that his best friend, Cameron, had committed suicide early that morning. It was the hardest thing that I ever had to do. I could tell at first that the words didn't register. It sounded to insane too even believe. I noticed the change in him as the words sank in and when they went from disbelief to reality. It hurt my heart to see my son in so much pain.
His often asked question of why? was answered with the only thing that I could say; I don't know. I held my son closer than I had since he was a baby and together we cried on each others shoulders. Him, for the loss of his best friend. I, for the loss of a young man that I considered a son myself. I cried for the loss and pain that I knew his family had to be going through.

Cameron was a one of a kind boy. I know that this description is used all the time but it's true. He always had a smile, loved to joke around and was loved by everyone. He was outgoing, funny and smart. He loved to make people laugh and he was always up for a dare. He was one of the first kids that Chance met when we moved here and they became fast friends. Cameron was the big brother that he never had. Cameron never had to knock when he came over. He knew where all of the junk food was stashed and he knew that the kitchen was open to him. He would often come over, walk in, grab to pop, say hi on the way to Chances room and hang out with Chance for hours on end.

When Julie told me the news, I have to admit, we were scared for Chance. He was going through some very stressful times himself and we were afraid that this was going to be too much for him to handle. We were afraid that Cameron's death would cause a depression for Chance that would make him want to suicide as well. It is not uncommon or unheard of. I wanted to stay up 24/7 and just hold him. Watch over him and protect him. We knew that the only thing that we could really do was try to talk to him about it and let him know that we were there for him. He had to grieve in his own way.

The funeral was a couple of days later. On our way to the funeral we noticed a group of girls, his classmates, walking together, holding hands and candles, making their way to the church. As I said, Cameron was liked and loved by everyone and the turnout at the church showed. It was standing room only. Different colored markers placed on Cameron's casket gave everyone the opportunity to write their final farewell to this incredible young man. From the church, we went out to the cemetery and said goodbye to our friend.

This last Friday, July 1st, marked the 3rd anniversary of Cameron's death. That night we took the girls and gathered with his family, friends and classmates at the cemetery. We shot roman candles and lit sparklers, said a prayer, laughed, cried and told stories of Cameron. After a while we left and let his classmates and friends gather around his grave to celebrate the 4th of July with their lost friend.

There is a hole in my heart where Cameron used to reside and I will forever hold him in my memory.

Cameron Thomas Crowl was 16 years old when he died. He touched many lives while he was here. I wonder if he realized just how many people loved him.

Rest in Peace Cameron. We love you and miss you very much.

Stuck on you

Some recent facebook postings by a friend and fellow blogger, Non-stop mom, has brought back some memories. She has been having some issues with mice lately and her troubles trapping some of these little critters reminded me of a little story.

Several years ago, my son and I moved in with a friend of mine, Elvin. We have known each other for 40+ years. We grew up together and there are several stories that I will be sharing about our escapades.

When we decided to move in together, I was going through my divorce and he was going through a breakup from a long term relationship. My lease was coming up and he had just bought a home on several acres of land outside of Mulvane Ks. In order for both of us to save money we became roomies. It was a 3 bedroom home so there was enough room for all of us.

We didn't really have many neighbors. It was a new developement of 5 acre tracks and he was the 2nd of 3 families that moved out there. We had neighbors across the street but the only other neighbor was a couple of hundred yards away.

The neighbor across the street though had several cats. One of which was a big old fluff ball who thought that going through our trash cans and sleeping on Elvin's porsche was his God given right. Elvin would come outside and find this cat perched on his car and the war was on. He made the mistake of leaving the sunroof open one night and when he came out the next morning he opened up the door and that cat shot out the door like a jack-in-the-box. I don't know if the little package he left inside was from being scared or what but either way Elvin was out for blood.

So anyway we started noticing an issue with mice. It seemed like the problem went from nothing to a lot of something within a couple of weeks. We noticed a dropping here and there and the next thing we know we see them running along the baseboard. We even had a couple of brave ones come out and watch T.V. with us. We were sitting there one night and one come out, sat down in the middle of floor and started watching T.V. It was actually pretty cute, then another one came out. That wasn't so cute. When they demanded that we change the channel we decided it was time to get some traps.

I got several snap traps and the hunt began. It didn't take long to figure out where they ran and the routes that they took around the furniture, so it only took a couple of days for me to catch almost all of the mice. Most of them were pretty easy to catch but there was one that avoided all of the traps and figured out ways around them. I would move the traps around and no matter where I put them he would avoid or figure out how to get the bait off the traps. I watched this mouse jump over certain traps and work his way around others to get back and forth. Micky was really starting to piss me off.

So back to the drawing board.

I went back to the store to see what other options I had. I didn't want poison. Chance was only about 3 years old and I didn't want him getting into it. The snap traps were going no where. Among the other selections were sticky traps. I don't how long sticky traps had been out but I had never seen them before. I had never really had a problem with mice before so this was a new thing for me. At first they looked pretty cool. The mouse runs onto the sticky pad, gets stuck and you throw it away. Sounds easy enough.

I bought the sticky traps and got to work. I set up an elaborate setup of sticky traps and snap traps around the furniture, behind the couch, etc. I set up traps on opposite side of table legs so that when he jumped over the leg he would land on the trap. I was all set.

The next day we were watching T.V. when we heard a squeaking noise. I went and looked behind the table and lo and behold, there sat my mouse. Right in the middle of the sticky trap. So I picked him up, did my little happy dance and took him out to the trash.

About 30 minutes later we heard a hell of a commotion out front. Something knocked over the trash can and was banging into the house. We ran outside to see what was going on and there was the cat next door running blindly around the yard, banging into the house, the cars, jumping around doing flips in the air, rolling around the yard, growling as loud as it could, with the sticky trap stuck to it's face. Evidently it heard the mouse squeaking, came to investigate and found dinner served on a platter. Unfortunately for him the plattter was a sticky trap. When he tried to eat the mouse he got the trap stuck to his face. As I said earlier he was a huge fluff ball so this thing was stuck. It covered his entire face. He was running around blind trying to get the trap off. It was funnier than hell. We didn't even try to catch it but the neighbor was out so we called him over and when he saw what had happened he just busted up laughing. He was finally able to catch it when the cat laid on it's back and tried to pry the trap off it's face with his back feet and got them stuck too. He got the cat but he walked away bloody and beat up because that cat was nothing but fur and claws. He was one pissed off cat.

The next day I came home and noticed the cat sitting by the road. Shaved. From head to toe. We never had any more problems of it sleeping on any cars or going through trash cans. As a matter of fact, I don't think it ever came across the street again.

Rant

I posted a comment on my facebook the other day that got many people up in arms. Maybe I over-reaceted a little but I don't think so. My post was in reaction to the hollow apology the NBC made over their commercial at the beginning of the US Open. The commercial was a montage of the Pledge of Allegiance. During the montage they included the entire pledge but omitted "Under God" and "Indivisable".

Now I am far from being a bible thumper or religious fanatic. But I refuse to believe that the incident was accidental and I refuse to believe that their apology was sincere.

You know when I was growing up every classroom in school had an American flag and every morning the school day started out with the Pledge of Allegience. We started our sporting events with the Pledge of Allegience and the National anthem was played loud and proud. We saluted our flag and said prayers in school. We celebrated Valentines Day, Easter, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. We played dodgeball and tackle football, had snowball fights, wrestled in the snow and had the occassional fist fight after school. If you had a dispute in school, the P.E. teacher gave you the opportunity to settle things in the ring with gloves. A buck knife was as much of an accessory for boys as make-up and hairspray was for the girls. Not only could you carry it, but it was often used in school for cutting wires in auto mechanics, carving in wood class and used to cut the grey blob that the cooks tried to pass off as meatloaf.

I grew up in a small country town and it wasn't unusual to see a .22, a shotgun or a deer rifle in the back window of the pickup trucks in the parking lot. Now I realize that times have changed. Back then the occassional scuffle after school never involved weapons. The knives on our belts and the rifles in the window were never thought of as a self defense mechanism and I realize that violence in schools has become a major problem. Before people start getting up in arms, I don't have an issue with the schools banning the carrying of knives or weapons in school. Again, times have changed and I think that weapons pose a serious threat.

My rant isn't about weapons in school. It is however about the fact that our society is being controlled more and more by the minority rule. America has gotten away from the core values that made America great. Most of the items listed above have been thrown to the wayside and banned from our schols. It doesn't matter that a majority of people are for it,  it has been banned because a minority of people find these things offensive. Majority vote or opinion is no longer the rule.

Why is it that more and more decisions today are based on the few people that oppose something versus the many people who approve of it. Our lawmakers, business owners, courts, etc. ban, restrict or censor things because a few people are opposed and might find it offensive. Yeah, elections are still determined by majority vote and peoples fates are determined by a juries majority votes in court cases. But our society, our country, has started to be ruled more by minority rules then majority.

I am a big man. Only 1/4 of 1% of the population is as big as I am. Trying to find clothes, shoes, cars, furniture, basically anything that fits me is difficult. Hell it's a dowright quest. Indiana Jones has nothing on me. The Holy Grail? Thats nothing. Try finding a pair of jeans with a 41 inch inseam and a 54 inch waist. The 54 part is not a problem but the jeans manufacturers think that the bigger your waist is the shorter your legs. Where the hell do they get that? How many 500lb midgets do you see running around.? 

How about a size 17EEEE shoe? I love the new Reeboks that are out. According to the stores, the largest that they made was a 13. So I called Reebok. They make them in sizes into the 20's for the professional athletes, so why can't I get a pair? Reasonable question right? But no, I am a lowly common person. They don't make the shoes for the general public. Only athletes can get them. But do I sue the clothing manufactures? No. I find what I can and go from there.

Our country has become so concerned with offending a certain class, religion, ethnicity or group of people that common sense has been thrown out the window. And along with that is our principles and our values that has made the U.S. the greatest country in the world.

The ACLU is one of the biggest threats that we have now. It seems that they have decided that it is their personal mission to take a stand against everything that made the United States the United States.

You come over to our country illegally, demand rights, enroll your kids in school who can't or won't speak english? Heaven forbid we make them learn to speak english and put it back on them. Make the parents pay for english classes so that the teachers can teach them without having to take time away from the other students. Sound logical right?  But no. We will inconvenience EVERYONE else, spend billions of dollars on interpreters, and because the budget is blown by trying to accomodate all of these people, we will just cut programs, teachers jobs, and security. Lets make it so much harder for everyone else just to accomodate these bastards.

I'm tired of the United States taking a mamby pamby stance towards illegal immigratrion. After 9/11 it was learned that some of the pilots used for the attacks on 9/11 were known terrorist and were on a watch list. But they came up through Mexico and basically just walked across the border. I think that we should put up signs that warn of barbed wire, land mines, attack dogs, gun turrents, border patrol agents etc. Secure the border. The Unites States should accept no responsability if someone wants to take the chance and cross the border and gets killed. You were warned. Too bad. Oh but then the bleeding hearts will bitch that if an illegal alien gets killed trying to cross the border illegally that we've violated their rights. What rights? Your not a citizen. We owe you nothing except a bill for cleanup. It is time for us to start taking our border issues seriously. Drugs flow into this country easier than shit through a goose on Ex-Lax. The safety and security of our country is in danger because the southern border has been nothing more than a line in the sand.

Instead of taking steps to deport illegal aliens and secure our border, the United States spends over $350 billion dollars a year on services for illegal aliens or their dependents. Social services, schools, translators, court fees, deportation services, etc. And what happens if by chance one of them gets deported? They're back in 3 weeks.

I'm not against immigrants coming into the United States and gaining citizenship. But if you want to be here, do it legally. If you can't do that and choose to come over illegally, then suffer the consequences.

It pisses me off that we are being overrun and no-one seems to care. Out country is in a financial crisis and yet instead of helping our own citizens, our homeless, our starving children, the United States is taking money that we don't have and shipping it off to other courties because they had a natural disaster. I feel for them, but really, there comes a time when enough is enough.

What about the services that are being taken away from natural born citizens? Why should medicare, unemployment, medicaid, social security, disability, and other services that citizens of the United States have earned and deserve be supplied to non-residents? Kind of like stray dogs. If you don't feed them they won't come around.

You come from a country that we are at war with? A country that is known for terrorist activity? A country that is responsable for the largest terroristic attack against the United States since Pearl Harbor? Heaven forbid we look at the natural suspects and single them out when you try to board a plane. So, instead of offending the natural suspects, we strip search little old ladies and look down the diapers of babies. Because we all know thats it was little old ladies that hijacked the planes that crashed into the world trade centers and it was bomb ridden baby diapers that were used to bomb the USS Cole. Now I'll admit, I have changed some diapers that could be considered lethal weapons but still.

If I am a screener at the airport and I see someone who fits into the profile of a terrorist or someone who is from a country that is known for terrorist activity, then they need to be looked at harder then a person who is U.S. citizen thats on a business trip. Police officers patrolling neighborhoods that are known for prostitution, drug dealing and gangs tend to look for the sign's, the usual suspects or a particular behavior. To stop someone that is a likely suspect is good police work. In the same aspect, police officers stopping someone suspicious while patrolling a neighborhhod that is NOT known for prostitution, drug dealing and gangs is not racial profiling either. If there is a certain race or nationality that is common for that activity then you look for that element when investigating.

We are getting the freedom of religion aspect of our Constitution used against us. Do I think it should be ommited? Of course not. But when terrorist use this freedom to build mosques in the United States as training grounds for more terrorist then it's time to look at what our founding fathers were trying to accomplish with this right. They want to build mosque over here then let us build churches over there.

A second year college student from France goes out one night and gets drunk. It is raining and cold outside and at about 3am and extremely intoxicated, he goes home. He is so drunk that he goes to the wrong apartment, his was 2 doors away. He was so drunk that he couldn't get his key to fit so he starts beating on the door trying to break in. The homeowner and his family get woken up, and call the police. The police get there and find this guy on the doorstep shadowed by a small overhang. He is beating on the door, yelling and screaming. The police tell him to come out to them, and to take his hands out of his pockets.  He's yelling incohenerently at the police and refuses numerous demands to take his hands out of his pockets. He pulls something out of his pocket and points it at the police, who, fearing it was a gun, shoot and kill him. It turned out to be a cell phone. Heres the kicker. Even though he had been here for 2 years, he still hasn't taken the time to learn the language. Had dropped out of the language course in college. His family sued the Miami Dade Sherriffs Dept. and won. Thats bullshit.

Several muslim women sue the state of California because they are denied a drivers licenses because they refuse to show their face for the picture because it's against their religion. Luckily they lost. Athiest sue and say that we can't say the Pledge of Allegiance or pray in school or public because since they don't believe in God thats it's offensive to them.

I think most people will agree that the United States was just fine the way it was. If you come here and you don't like our laws, our rules, the way we operate then get the hell out of here and go home. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.

Late Night Stroll

Since I have gotten stuck on the topic of practical jokes I thought I would share another one. I am bringing back an earlier victim from one of my pranks. I didn't mention a name in my earlier blog, but I am referring to him as "Bob". He is that star of my blog "On A Long Lonely Highway". This incident took place before the other prank, and little did I know that it was going to set a precedent.

We worked together for a while at a store in Towne East Square in Wichita and eventually moved on to different jobs. That didn't stop or slow the friendship any, we still hung out all the time, double dating etc. 

Back when we were hanging out, Tom Cruise was just starting to make it big in the movies. The Outsiders and Risky Business were making their cinematic rounds at the theaters. Girls of all ages were swooning and screaming and vowing their undying love for him. Luckily for me, well luckier for Bob, but being best friend and all I got residual action, Bob was a DEAD RINGER for Tom Cruise. He had the hair, the smile, the walk and the attitude. Even my mother called him her silver tongued son because this boy had more game than Michael Jordan and could sweet talk a nun out of her habit. He was such a look alike that he would get mobbed at the malls by girls asking for autographs. Especially when he had his RayBan's on.

I don't know know why but I love cemeteries. I used to drive by and get out and just walk around different cemeteries. I love to walk around and look at the headstones, seeing what is written on them and curious about the history of the people.
I was driving home from work one Friday evening. I was on eastbound on Kellogg in Wichita. Kellogg, or highway 54, is the main highway that runs east/west through Wichita. They have done construction on this highway every day of every year for the past 40 years (and maybe even before then). But back in the 80's it was a 4-lane highway (using the term lightly) and had a grass median. It had a flimsy fence that didn't do anything to keep people from crossing the highway.

As you go east from downtown Wichita, at about Hillside, there is an old cemetery. It is on the south side of the highway and there is a frontage road that runs between it and the highway and there is an access road on the west side of it. They still use the cemetery but some of the headstones date back to the early 1800's. I had walked around it several times because it has some interesting old headstones in it.

It was a nice day and I had some time to waste so I decided to do a drive through. As I drove in I noticed that there was a backhoe digging a new grave. I was kind of surprised to see it out there that late. It was after 4pm and I always thought that they usually took care of digging the graves earlier in the day. I saw the backhoe driver get out of the cab and so I pulled over and talked to him for a minute. He confirmed what I thought. They were having a service Saturday morning and they weren't going to be able to do it in the morning so they were digging it today.

A plan started to formulate.

Bob and I had a double date scheduled for that night. The girls that we were dating were best friends and I was good friends with Bob's girlfriend as well. My girlfriend, her best friend, was usually at the her house and so I would call her and the three of us would make plans for the weekends.

We were each matched up rather well. My girlfriend and I liked the same things and the same for Bob and his girlfriend. One of the few areas that we were opposite on though was cemeteries. I liked them, Bob didn't. His girlfriend liked them but mine didn't.

I called over to Bob's girlfriend and both of the girls were there. I hoped that they were so that I could explain to both of them what my idea was. I wanted to put this plan together with them so that I could prank Bob. I went over everything with them, ironing out all of the details and by the time I got done they were both totally on board.

Bob and I had planned to take the girls out to eat and then go to the movies. After the movies we were going to go out to the clubs for a while. On the way home we were going to drive past the cemetery and the girls were going to suggest going in and doing a late night stroll. We had to drive past the cemetery on our way to take the girls home anyway so going by there wasn't a red flag.

So here we were. It was about 3am and we were pulling into the cemetery. I was designated driver and Bob was well toasted. The girls had had a few drinks but weren't real drunk.

I had told the girls where the new grave was. I had drawn a crude map and went over it with them at dinner when Bob went to the bathroom and any other time that he was away from us. When we got into the cemetery, I drove by it. It was a couple of rows back from the road but by using a few keywords I was able to show them where it was at. I knew from talking to the backhoe operator that there was not going to be a tent up over it. They had done that before and people kept stealing the tents so they just left it open.

The idea was for us to all to start out walking together. The girls were then going to walk ahead of us and I suggest to Bob that we split up and scare the girls. He was a little hesitant at first but the more I went on about scaring the girls and so on the more he got into it. He went one way and I went the other. The moon is almost full but we had a couple of flashlights. The girls had one and I had the other one.

Little did he know what was in store.

We ran around for a bit scaring the girls, playing tag, horsing around, etc. then we would split up again. After about 10 minutes of this I gave the girls the signal. I ran over to the area of the open grave and when Bob wasn't looking I jumped in and started waiting.

I was hiding in the grave and I could hear Bob and girls screaming and laughing. I heard them running all around and after a minute or so I took a peak up over the edge of the grave and saw them running my way. I stooped down in the grave a little bit and waited for them to run past. Just then I heard the girls run past, one on each side of the grave. I hear this noise above me and Bob falls right in the grave. Right beside me.

I stood up, turned my flashlight on and held it under my chin. With my face shadowed by the flashlight, I reached out and grabbed a hold of his shoulder and let out real loud bellowing RRRAAAAWWWWRRRRRR BWAAHAHAHAHAHAA.

He started screaming at the top of his lungs and peed his pants. His eyes literally bugged out of his head and his hair stood on end. He reminded me of Shaggy on Scooby Doo.

I have never seen anyone jump so high in my life. He jumped flat footed all the way out of the grave. His feet were running before he even landed on the ground. Kind of like holding a dog above bathwater.  He landed at the edge of the grave and took off running across the cemetery. He was hurdling headstones and anything else that got in his way. He cleared both of the fences separating the highway from the cemetery, ran all the way across the highway and cleared the fence on the other side.

He was clear on the other side of the highway before I could even got out of the grave. Course I was laughing so hard I could hardly climb out. He was over there for about 5 minutes and we were yelling back and forth before he would finally come back over.

He finally came back and was standing beside the car before he realized that he peed his pants. Now if you have read my other blog, you will remember that this is the same reaction he had in the other one. I don't know if my pranks were that scary or if he just had a weak bladder. I think it may have been a combination of both. Course him being drunk both times probably didn't help much. But either way he was not happy.

We finally got our dates home and he woke his dad up with the shower when we got over to his house. I thought his dad was going to have a stroke when we told him what happened.

He would even re-tell the story but always denied the peeing of the pants.