04-02-2013
I had a C.T. scan last Thursday. I talked to a nurse in the oncology department today and she told me the scan was good, no evidence of any issues. Next appointment is in September.
Hope you are doing well.
S.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Friday, December 28, 2012
INDEPENDENCE DAY 2012
You read that right, today is my Independence Day 2012, just like the 'blog title says.
I had my last treatment today, December 28th, 2012. Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I am completely done with chemo.
YAY!!!
I realize my 'blog entries have been spotty at best, but I did NOT want to neglect this entry as this is the day I've been looking forward to since I was diagnosed 2 & 1/2 years ago.
My last round of maintenance chemos took up every Friday in December and the infusions and aftermath were uneventful. I took intense naps, that was about it. Seems like I have zero other effects at this point, no change in taste, no neuropathy that I can tell. The thought occurred to me - did I imagine the changes in taste with previous maintenance, or did I just have less and less as time went on?
Anyway, Nurse Julie took care of me every Friday and did a very nice job. We had many talks. She is a runner and has completed a marathon (imagine that!). We compared notes about running long distances and biking, and talked about life in general. She and her husband have two children, a boy and a girl. It was fun exchanging stories parent to parent about raising children and the challenges of instilling good values in an ever-changing world. Visiting with her every Friday became like getting together for a chat with a long lost friend. When I left she said, "You be sure and stop back and see us when you have your visits with Dr. R, but I want to make this very clear - I don't EVER want to see you back in this chair!" pointing to the recliner where I received my infusions. She is a good nurse and a very nice lady. I will miss her and all the great people at the clinic.
Looking back at previous 'blog entries I realize how much has happened to me in the last 2 & 1/2 years. It has been quite a trip. Some of it seems so long ago. Life is a journey and now another chapter is closed. But it has changed me forever, just as it would anyone. I have been very fortunate. Many others, including friends of mine, were not so lucky. That point is not lost on me.. I am so grateful to my doctor and all the great personnel at the clinic. I told Nurse Julie today that I hope I am done dealing with cancer but if I ever get it again, I know exactly where to go. And I very much appreciate all the terrific support I got from family and friends. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.
What things have I learned? Life is precious and life is short. Live it to the fullest. Love is the greatest gift of all. All the money in the world won't buy it nor will it make up for the lack of it. Don't let a day go by without letting the people you love know that you love them. Treat your friends and family like the precious gifts they are. It will all come back to you, times 1000.
Godspeed.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Farewell and Thank You
I started writing this in February but didn’t finish it
until now. I guess I needed a little
distance to get the right perspective.
***
In May 2004, I was at the end of my rope. I had a job
that I hated. It was a boiler room inside sales job, with abysmal pay.
The managers were heartless and, worse, humorless. I was trapped
and sinking fast.
2 and 1/2 years earlier the telecom industry had launched me, unceremoniously, after I devoted 20 years of my life to them. Finding any kind of decent replacement job was proving difficult. My confidence was shattered.
Somehow through my social network (actual living breathing people, not pictures on a computer screen), my name popped up at a construction supply house, M.A.W. They were looking for a Credit Manager. I had about as much business being a Credit Manager as I would being the President of the United States. My degree (1978 vintage) was electronics. My background was telecom. But I figured I had nothing to lose, and besides, I knew Excel (a little bit, anyway). I went to meet Chuck D.
Chuck shook my hand and seemed to be sizing me up. We talked a little bit. We discussed my previous employers, but only briefly. Chuck mentioned that he was "on the back nine" and that soon he would be handing control over to his sons, Darren and Derek.
At the end of the interview, Chuck said he'd have to talk to his business partners. He would get back to me.
10 days later, Chuck called me. The job was mine, if I wanted it. But could I start tomorrow? I could and I did.
7 years and 9 months later, I'm still at M.A.W.
I had a hell of a time at first, but eventually Chuck brought me around to his way. What I got more than anything from Chuck was this: your family is number 1; your friends are a close second.
2 and 1/2 years earlier the telecom industry had launched me, unceremoniously, after I devoted 20 years of my life to them. Finding any kind of decent replacement job was proving difficult. My confidence was shattered.
Somehow through my social network (actual living breathing people, not pictures on a computer screen), my name popped up at a construction supply house, M.A.W. They were looking for a Credit Manager. I had about as much business being a Credit Manager as I would being the President of the United States. My degree (1978 vintage) was electronics. My background was telecom. But I figured I had nothing to lose, and besides, I knew Excel (a little bit, anyway). I went to meet Chuck D.
Chuck shook my hand and seemed to be sizing me up. We talked a little bit. We discussed my previous employers, but only briefly. Chuck mentioned that he was "on the back nine" and that soon he would be handing control over to his sons, Darren and Derek.
At the end of the interview, Chuck said he'd have to talk to his business partners. He would get back to me.
10 days later, Chuck called me. The job was mine, if I wanted it. But could I start tomorrow? I could and I did.
7 years and 9 months later, I'm still at M.A.W.
I had a hell of a time at first, but eventually Chuck brought me around to his way. What I got more than anything from Chuck was this: your family is number 1; your friends are a close second.
If you gave him a good firm handshake, looked him straight
in the eye, and (more important than anything) gave him your word, Chuck would
always be there for you, to the bitter end.
Your word is your bond, Chuck used to say.
I have no doubt that if I had called Chuck in the wee hours of the morning he'd be there if I needed help. I know someone who did call him, just like that…. for bail money. Ever the loyal friend, Chuck showed up, with the cash.
It wasn't all roses. Business rarely is. The last 93 months, for me and M.A.W, have included successes and failures. But I'm still here. What Chuck got from me (I'd like to think, anyway) was a dedicated worker who was at his desk every day, and knew his way around computers, at least a little bit. Chuck had the business know how, I knew (or figured out) how to make some of his internal processes run smoother.
Once Chuck got to know me, he hired my sister in law. Then he let Derek hire my wife.
Oh well, nobody's perfect, I guess.
A few years ago, Chuck started to back off from the business. His boys took over. He started to travel. Stays in Florida became the norm. Then, sadly, his health began to decline. He fell and broke his hip. A stay in a rehab center followed. Not one to stay down for long, Chuck breezed through that and was back in the game.
Your word is your bond, Chuck used to say.
I have no doubt that if I had called Chuck in the wee hours of the morning he'd be there if I needed help. I know someone who did call him, just like that…. for bail money. Ever the loyal friend, Chuck showed up, with the cash.
It wasn't all roses. Business rarely is. The last 93 months, for me and M.A.W, have included successes and failures. But I'm still here. What Chuck got from me (I'd like to think, anyway) was a dedicated worker who was at his desk every day, and knew his way around computers, at least a little bit. Chuck had the business know how, I knew (or figured out) how to make some of his internal processes run smoother.
Once Chuck got to know me, he hired my sister in law. Then he let Derek hire my wife.
Oh well, nobody's perfect, I guess.
A few years ago, Chuck started to back off from the business. His boys took over. He started to travel. Stays in Florida became the norm. Then, sadly, his health began to decline. He fell and broke his hip. A stay in a rehab center followed. Not one to stay down for long, Chuck breezed through that and was back in the game.
Then he got deathly ill. Turned out he needed a liver
transplant.
Chuck was a tough guy, a multi-sport athlete in high school, also a boxer and a Marine. I didn't know him then, but it was obvious the guy could take a punch. And, he took a bucket full of them.
He recovered from the liver transplant and became great friends with the doctor who performed the operation. He went on living and enjoying life.
Sometime after that, I got bad news. I had cancer. My loyal friend Chuck called and offered his support, for me, my wife and kids. I got through my chemotherapy.
Chuck was a tough guy, a multi-sport athlete in high school, also a boxer and a Marine. I didn't know him then, but it was obvious the guy could take a punch. And, he took a bucket full of them.
He recovered from the liver transplant and became great friends with the doctor who performed the operation. He went on living and enjoying life.
Sometime after that, I got bad news. I had cancer. My loyal friend Chuck called and offered his support, for me, my wife and kids. I got through my chemotherapy.
After that, Chuck and I had many talks about life, and what
an adventure it was. But we also both agreed that we had no
complaints. We'd both stared into the abyss and been changed by it.
The fact that we'd both had significant health scares allowed us to bond in a
way we never would have otherwise. And that's the honest truth.
Chuck recovered from his transplant surgery and was back once again. He welcomed his first grandchild, a baby girl. He was enjoying his life. Unfortunately, after a short time, he got more bad news from the doctor. This time it was cancer. It had spread and was in his lungs.
Yet again, Chuck refused to throw in the towel. He fought with everything he had. When he was told he didn't have long, he faced his fate with dignity and composure. He never complained. But at the same time, he committed himself to fighting for every extra day he could get. He NEVER gave up.
Chuck had a heart attack and then slipped away, on a Saturday morning in February with his sons by his side. He was 71.
His boys put on what was without a doubt the best send off I've ever seen. Chuck's funeral was what every funeral should be: friends and relatives fondly remembering their late great friend. Chuck's friend since childhood gave one of the funniest eulogies I ever heard, here's a sample - "I met Chuck on Tuesday. On Wednesday, the police were at my house - "Were you with Chuck D. yesterday? A car was reported stolen....".
Another story was when Chuck's parents decided to send him off to military school. They took him to the train station and watched him get on the train. What they didn't see was that he walked through the train car and exited the other side before it ever left the station. Hooked up with them later that day, back at home. Military school didn't sound like a good idea to Chuck.
Chuck recovered from his transplant surgery and was back once again. He welcomed his first grandchild, a baby girl. He was enjoying his life. Unfortunately, after a short time, he got more bad news from the doctor. This time it was cancer. It had spread and was in his lungs.
Yet again, Chuck refused to throw in the towel. He fought with everything he had. When he was told he didn't have long, he faced his fate with dignity and composure. He never complained. But at the same time, he committed himself to fighting for every extra day he could get. He NEVER gave up.
Chuck had a heart attack and then slipped away, on a Saturday morning in February with his sons by his side. He was 71.
His boys put on what was without a doubt the best send off I've ever seen. Chuck's funeral was what every funeral should be: friends and relatives fondly remembering their late great friend. Chuck's friend since childhood gave one of the funniest eulogies I ever heard, here's a sample - "I met Chuck on Tuesday. On Wednesday, the police were at my house - "Were you with Chuck D. yesterday? A car was reported stolen....".
Another story was when Chuck's parents decided to send him off to military school. They took him to the train station and watched him get on the train. What they didn't see was that he walked through the train car and exited the other side before it ever left the station. Hooked up with them later that day, back at home. Military school didn't sound like a good idea to Chuck.
Then there was the time his father got him a job painting
fire hydrants (green). As Chuck went
about his duties, an annoying little dog kept harassing him. Pretty soon everything but that little dog’s
most private parts were that lovely shade of green. Chuck’s dad got a call and drove to the
scene. Chuck was fired. And had to walk home, too.
Chuck was one of those larger than life guys. At the luncheon after the services, old friends went on and on with stories about Chuck, each one funnier than the last. Chuck had dated Sara Lee in high school.... yeah, that Sara Lee. Was still friends with her 50+ years later. After he graduated from high school in '58 he went to Cuba with some friends. While they were in a casino there, Castro's gang came in and raised some hell. Chuck rented a bachelor pad with Bobby Douglass who played for the Chicago Bears in the late 60's and early '70s. Their adventures and misadventures together were legendary. One time their place was robbed, the Chicago flatfoot who investigated was Dennis Farina (Miami Vice, Get Shorty, Midnight Run, Law and Order, etc.).
From humble beginnings, Chuck went on to start a business, sell it and retire very young to spend time with his sons. Later he came out of retirement and started yet another business, which he built up for his boys and all the people who wound up working at their two locations.
I guess the most amazing thing to me about Chuck was that he had friends that he went to grade school with that he STILL hung around with, at the age of 71. Family and friends was what he was all about.
Quite a guy, he was. He did a lot for me and my family. And a lot of other people, too.
Thank you Chuck, my friend. I'll miss you.
Chuck was one of those larger than life guys. At the luncheon after the services, old friends went on and on with stories about Chuck, each one funnier than the last. Chuck had dated Sara Lee in high school.... yeah, that Sara Lee. Was still friends with her 50+ years later. After he graduated from high school in '58 he went to Cuba with some friends. While they were in a casino there, Castro's gang came in and raised some hell. Chuck rented a bachelor pad with Bobby Douglass who played for the Chicago Bears in the late 60's and early '70s. Their adventures and misadventures together were legendary. One time their place was robbed, the Chicago flatfoot who investigated was Dennis Farina (Miami Vice, Get Shorty, Midnight Run, Law and Order, etc.).
From humble beginnings, Chuck went on to start a business, sell it and retire very young to spend time with his sons. Later he came out of retirement and started yet another business, which he built up for his boys and all the people who wound up working at their two locations.
I guess the most amazing thing to me about Chuck was that he had friends that he went to grade school with that he STILL hung around with, at the age of 71. Family and friends was what he was all about.
Quite a guy, he was. He did a lot for me and my family. And a lot of other people, too.
Thank you Chuck, my friend. I'll miss you.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Joe
02-19-2012
I just got back from a visitation.
My buddy Joe, our IT consultant at work, died Thursday morning from
brain cancer. He was diagnosed less than two years ago.
Joe fought the good fight. I did get a chance to visit with him after
he was diagnosed, and he also had been to our shop a couple times after
his surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. I didn't think his outlook was
good based on what he had told me and how he looked. I don't know if
Joe knew the likely outcome or not but he always seemed positive when I
spoke to him.
After his initial surgery, I wrote him a letter and told him how much
I enjoyed working with him and how much he had taught me about PCs and
our specific software application. I told him I looked forward to working
with him again soon, even though as I wrote it I didn't know if we ever would
work together again or not. As it turned out, we did work together one last
time. On his last visit to our shop he told me he really appreciated me
writing the letter.
Joe was the kind of guy who did everything by the book. Invariably he
would come to work on my computer and I would have 12 or so windows open.
That used to drive him nuts! He would say "How is your accounting software
supposed to work when you have all those windows open?" And I always said,
"Hey, it's a computer. We paid good money for it, and I work it hard."
Joe was dealt a bad hand. I have no doubt that he did everything his
doctors told him to. The hand he was dealt was a loser.
It reminds me of something Lance Armstrong mentioned in his book - some
of the best people in the world get cancer. They do everything they can
to beat it. They do what their doctors tell them to. They have a positive
attitude. They work their asses off.
Their cancer will kill them anyway.
On the other hand, some very disagreeable people will get cancer. They
will ignore their doctor's best advice. They will do whatever they want.
They will have a negative attitude.
They will survive.
Cancer's not fair.
I am proud to have called Joe my friend, he was a great guy. He was 62.
His obituary is here.
I just got back from a visitation.
My buddy Joe, our IT consultant at work, died Thursday morning from
brain cancer. He was diagnosed less than two years ago.
Joe fought the good fight. I did get a chance to visit with him after
he was diagnosed, and he also had been to our shop a couple times after
his surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation. I didn't think his outlook was
good based on what he had told me and how he looked. I don't know if
Joe knew the likely outcome or not but he always seemed positive when I
spoke to him.
After his initial surgery, I wrote him a letter and told him how much
I enjoyed working with him and how much he had taught me about PCs and
our specific software application. I told him I looked forward to working
with him again soon, even though as I wrote it I didn't know if we ever would
work together again or not. As it turned out, we did work together one last
time. On his last visit to our shop he told me he really appreciated me
writing the letter.
Joe was the kind of guy who did everything by the book. Invariably he
would come to work on my computer and I would have 12 or so windows open.
That used to drive him nuts! He would say "How is your accounting software
supposed to work when you have all those windows open?" And I always said,
"Hey, it's a computer. We paid good money for it, and I work it hard."
Joe was dealt a bad hand. I have no doubt that he did everything his
doctors told him to. The hand he was dealt was a loser.
It reminds me of something Lance Armstrong mentioned in his book - some
of the best people in the world get cancer. They do everything they can
to beat it. They do what their doctors tell them to. They have a positive
attitude. They work their asses off.
Their cancer will kill them anyway.
On the other hand, some very disagreeable people will get cancer. They
will ignore their doctor's best advice. They will do whatever they want.
They will have a negative attitude.
They will survive.
Cancer's not fair.
I am proud to have called Joe my friend, he was a great guy. He was 62.
His obituary is here.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
The Greatest Shame of All
The Greatest Shame of All
or
Why I Can't Forgive bobby b
Back when I got married I disc jockeyed my own wedding. I had tons of albums so
I just chose all the music and made a bunch of cassette tapes. I rented a
P.A. system and slapped in a tape. Every forty five minutes I or one of
my buddies would change the tape.
In addition to the music I had, I bought a bunch of additional albums so I'd have all the
bases covered. One of the new records I bought was the debut album of a brilliant
new artist. I remember looking at the picture on the back of the album. Whit in a
bathing suit. B-b-b-breathtaking!
She was so young, so beautiful and so talented. All of America fell in love with her.
And then we watched her grow up right before our eyes. All her successes played out
before us. All her failures too. When someone grows up in the public eye
beginning at such a young age it seems like you know them in a way, even though a stranger
really can't.
And I think somehow something about that person seems to belong to the public. If you
are a fan, you celebrate their successes and suffer a little bit when they falter. At least many
of us do.
And if you don't believe that then please explain all those magazines at the checkout stands.
So there she was, beloved by the public and on top of the world. And then she married
him. In retrospect that seems like it was the beginning of the end for her.
You could say he was a rascal or a playa' or whatever. To me he was just a dog. And the
proof is in the pudding. The other day she died, far too young.
To an outsider looking in he turned her on to something that ruined her life. While maybe
to some extent he could control his substance abuse, she never could control hers.
Where I come from you take care of the people you love. He didn't take care of her. He didn't
look out for her. He ruined her life and moved on to his next victim. A dog.
You can say its not fair for me to judge and you're probably right. All I know is what I
observed from far, far away. Every individual is responsible for themselves in the end. But
from time to time we all need a little help. And we all deserve help from people who profess
to love us. If they don't help I guess they only love themselves.
Maybe God will forgive him. I can't.
My conscience says I shouldn't pass judgment on someone I don't know. Go ahead and call
me on it. Ill just tell you "that's MY prerogative" .
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
01-17-2012
Hey , y'all!
I finished my second round of maintenance chemo last week. One day a week, for about 5 hours, 4 weeks duration.
Uneventful, mostly. Don't notice even much changing of taste any more. A little fatigue seems to be about it.
I will have maintenance again about July, then again January 2013, it looks like now. Then, hopefully I will have "clean scans" and be free to proceed to my next life threatening catastrophe.
I'm SO excited!
I got a couple of inquiries from people who called for me at work and were told I was in chemo. Jon said, "Steve, do you mind if I ask you a question? Are you OK?". I explained that everything was fine, the maintenance was expected and totally tolerable, all that. Then a couple days later, I got another call, from another coworker just like the first. I guess the word "chemotherapy" has such a bad connotation that people always assume the worst when they hear it. I know I always did.
The personnel at the Treatment Center has changed somewhat. The scheduler took time off after having a baby and the receptionist seems to have been replaced. Most of the nurses are the same. I have to admit it was a little off putting to go back to a spot where I felt so "comfortable" for lack of a better word and found the landscape had changed significantly. But it's all good. Life is all about change, hopefully for the better. Making new friends is ALWAYS a good thing.
Rewinding:
At Thanksgiving, we journeyed to Florida to see our old friends from the 'hood. We had a GREAT time, and it was hard to leave even though we were there a week. Austin went with us and he had a great time, too. The weather was outstanding. We went to the beach at Clearwater one day, and went to the neighborhood pools just about every other day. We are very happy for our old buds that they wound up in a place that they love. But we do miss the hell out of them.
At Christmas we had Tessa's housemates and the house mom stop over for a pizza party (Tessa was already home for the holiday). One of the girls has no living relatives, so she doesn't leave the group home at Christmas. She was very excited. One of the other girls' family takes her out only occasionally to eat, which she loves to do, so she was happy to get pizza. Julie bought them all a Christmas gift. It was actually the highlight of our Christmas to be able to share it with these young ladies.
I sure hope that some day when Julie and I are dead and gone that someone thinks to take a little time to make Austin or Tessa feel special at Christmas.
If you were raised Christian, whether you are a a person of faith when you grow up or not, I can't imagine you would ever forget how special Christmas is for a child.
Back to the present:
Tessa is doing great, she has really settled in at her 2nd home. We are very proud of her as she hasn't really missed a beat. We generally get her every other weekend. On Sunday afternoon, we make sure we prominently display her travel bag. Once she sees that, she knows she will be heading back to her other home that evening. A couple of times after she spotted her bag on display, she just went out in the garage and got in the truck... like, 'allright, if the train's leavin, let's roll, I got stuff to do!'. There really hasn't been any drama with her, and we are grateful for that.
I hope you are doing well.
I finished my second round of maintenance chemo last week. One day a week, for about 5 hours, 4 weeks duration.
Uneventful, mostly. Don't notice even much changing of taste any more. A little fatigue seems to be about it.
I will have maintenance again about July, then again January 2013, it looks like now. Then, hopefully I will have "clean scans" and be free to proceed to my next life threatening catastrophe.
I'm SO excited!
I got a couple of inquiries from people who called for me at work and were told I was in chemo. Jon said, "Steve, do you mind if I ask you a question? Are you OK?". I explained that everything was fine, the maintenance was expected and totally tolerable, all that. Then a couple days later, I got another call, from another coworker just like the first. I guess the word "chemotherapy" has such a bad connotation that people always assume the worst when they hear it. I know I always did.
The personnel at the Treatment Center has changed somewhat. The scheduler took time off after having a baby and the receptionist seems to have been replaced. Most of the nurses are the same. I have to admit it was a little off putting to go back to a spot where I felt so "comfortable" for lack of a better word and found the landscape had changed significantly. But it's all good. Life is all about change, hopefully for the better. Making new friends is ALWAYS a good thing.
Rewinding:
At Thanksgiving, we journeyed to Florida to see our old friends from the 'hood. We had a GREAT time, and it was hard to leave even though we were there a week. Austin went with us and he had a great time, too. The weather was outstanding. We went to the beach at Clearwater one day, and went to the neighborhood pools just about every other day. We are very happy for our old buds that they wound up in a place that they love. But we do miss the hell out of them.
At Christmas we had Tessa's housemates and the house mom stop over for a pizza party (Tessa was already home for the holiday). One of the girls has no living relatives, so she doesn't leave the group home at Christmas. She was very excited. One of the other girls' family takes her out only occasionally to eat, which she loves to do, so she was happy to get pizza. Julie bought them all a Christmas gift. It was actually the highlight of our Christmas to be able to share it with these young ladies.
I sure hope that some day when Julie and I are dead and gone that someone thinks to take a little time to make Austin or Tessa feel special at Christmas.
If you were raised Christian, whether you are a a person of faith when you grow up or not, I can't imagine you would ever forget how special Christmas is for a child.
Back to the present:
Tessa is doing great, she has really settled in at her 2nd home. We are very proud of her as she hasn't really missed a beat. We generally get her every other weekend. On Sunday afternoon, we make sure we prominently display her travel bag. Once she sees that, she knows she will be heading back to her other home that evening. A couple of times after she spotted her bag on display, she just went out in the garage and got in the truck... like, 'allright, if the train's leavin, let's roll, I got stuff to do!'. There really hasn't been any drama with her, and we are grateful for that.
I hope you are doing well.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
eureka
Message:
here doggydoggydoggy cmon you snarling friggin beast!
I got a drink fo' ya!
U bastard!
Harbor freight 8.99.
ilovharborfreight.
here doggydoggydoggy cmon you snarling friggin beast!
I got a drink fo' ya!
U bastard!
Harbor freight 8.99.
ilovharborfreight.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
7-13-11 road update
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Wednesday, June 29, 2011
update 6-29-11
update 6-29-11
Here's what's been going on with me recently:
06/23/11
I had an appointment with my oncologist. All went well. I lost 4 pounds! I will see the doctor again in 3 months. It was one year ago today that I got the Non Hodgkins Lymphoma diagnosis.
That 12 months went by fast! A lot has changed in my life, that's for sure.
***
06/25/11
Austin went for another tandem ride with me, exact same route as last week. The only thing that was different was that he bitched almost the whole time. Not sure biking is his sport. I think PS3 is really his sport. I'm still working on him.
We went to a baseball game that my great nephew Cade played in for the city championship for his classification. They won which was nice for him and his buddies.
I've decided that I will refer to my great nieces and great nephews as my "greatchildren". They're not grandchildren but they are my great nieces and great nephews, so I'm going with "greatchildren". They call me "gunka" as it is a variation on "uncle", but I guess now they'll have to call me "grunka" as a variation on "great uncle".
God, I'm an idiot!
***
06/26/11
We spent all day Sunday prepping for my upcoming family reunion, which will be at our house. Washing screens and windows, yardwork, blah blah blah.
After all that misery was over, I jumped on my bike and took a nice ride, about 23 miles.
I think I had an epiphany: I do better WITHOUT a speedometer. I felt better, felt like I rode FASTER, and I definitely climbed hills WAY BETTER than I have all year! No lie, I really did climb them like a madman.
Note the lonely speedo socket on the left:
I climbed HEART ATTACK HILL 3x, although 1 of them was from the back side, so I'll only count 2. That was by far my high water mark for the year.
Here's a shot looking down HEART ATTACK HILL:
I think the speedometer was allowing me to concentrate too much on speed or speed variation (like, sheesh, I was just going 20MPH, now the wind's so bad it's got me knocked down to 12MPH, THIS IS KILLING ME!). Given a choice, I think I would just like to see HOW FAR I've gone instead of how fast. I think I psych myself out. The only downside to not having an onboard speedometer is that I have to calculate my mileage later, but that's no biggie.
After my next ride I should be right around 600 miles for the year.
***
In reading back over m'blog, I have to say that it pretty much sucks. The only time that it's potentially interesting is when I'm passionate about something or I'm learning about something, or there's something new and significant going on, e.g. cancer treatment, Tessa moving out, etc. I didn't mean for it to turn into a "then I ate dinner. I watched TV. I think American Idol is GREAT, don't you?... blah blah blah" type of thing, I really didn't.
At some point it kind of turned into a journal or diary. The only reason I started the thing was to record my thoughts, feelings, experiences, etc. in dealing with cancer.
Although the cancer treatment is ongoing, obviously there are long, long, long lulls in between. Not sure what to do with this, I'll be honest with you. Still trying to figure it out.
Sometimes I have a story idea or something happens that plays right into the 'blog (e.g., potential get together with long lost friends from previous employer). But sometimes it definitely IS "I rode my bike. We grilled burgers..." kind of thing, which is NOT interesting at all.
The other thing about the 'blog is something I hadn't thought about.
Late winter / early spring I was SO friggin' bored that I found myself scouring the ON DEMAND menu on the TV. I was watching "Shalom TV" which is centered on Jewish culture (nothing against Jewish people, but since I'm NOT Jewish, what was I doing watching that? My motivation was boredom mixed with a little curiosity, to be honest). Anyway, to cut to the chase, there was an author talking about her books, I think her name was Dani Shapiro. She said that she discovered WHAT she thought about something and WHY she thought WHAT she thought about a particular subject by -writing- about it. In the process of putting the words down on paper or on the computer, she works through all the whys and wherefores, etc.
As I watched her, I realized that the same is true for me.
I may not know why I have a certain belief or feeling, but if I sit down and pour all my thoughts into a keyboard, by the time I finish, I have a pretty thorough understanding of my feelings about a particular subject. What might start out in my head as a formless, nebulous kind of thing will have structure, make sense, follow a logical progression, etc., if I sit down and reason through it and put pen to paper or fingers to keys.
I always feel like whoever reads what I write may not agree with what I think, but if they read what I wrote and really think about it, they should at least have an UNDERSTANDING of my perspective.
And if I can get that person to that place, I've accomplished what I set out to do as a writer. The bonus is that for me, many times, I have a better understanding of myself. Does that make any friggin' sense at all?
The other bonus is that pouring the words into the keyboard can be cathartic. An example would be some of the stuff I wrote about Tessa moving out. After I posted those entries, I felt that I'd been able to get at least some of the grief and frustration off my chest. It didn't change the circumstances but it DID provide a cleansing of sorts, and a release of some pent-up frustration. It was also, hopefully, an accurate expression of my sense of failure and provided an explanation of the dark clouds hanging over me.
In some ways I wonder if writing my 'blog might be like having a friend who's a good listener, when you really need a good listener. I'm not sure who IS listening out there (I do get some feedback from time to time and I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!) but at least I feel like I'm broadcasting my thoughts and emotions out into the universe for whomever may be paying attention. And for some reason, even if it defies logic, it's therapeutic.
***
I have a relative to whom I spoke the other day. I'll paraphrase what he said to me: 'My dad was estranged from me and my family when I was growing up. I didn't have a father figure around. Experiences I had with YOUR DAD taught me what it meant to be a stand-up guy. A lot of how I turned out was because of YOUR DAD.'
Wow, did that ever make me think! My dad has been dead for 8 years. The person who told me that whole story is someone I think very highly of. Nice to know that my dad "passed it forward" so to speak, and now the circle goes on.
Sometimes we don't even realize that the little, seemingly insignificant things that go on in everyday life wind up being -lessons- that young, impressionable, and sometimes VERY emotionally NEEDY people (especially children) pick up on.
I WAS THERE when the entire episode in question played out, and it never occurred to me what was happening until I heard those words from that person the other day.
Someone is ALWAYS paying attention, even if it doesn't come to light until 30 years later. And by that time, we may be long gone.
***
Getting back to my 'blog, I realize a lot of it, especially recently, is BORING! Someone commented on the sheer -number- of pictures of myself. Didn't mean to do that, either, but it seemed like at the time they documented what I was talking about and I always think that the pictures add to the story and help the reader get a more accurate idea of what went on. I'll try to have LESS pictures of me (believe me, I HATE pictures of myself, I only put them in there because I thought they were helpful).
And, if I do include a picture of me, I'll try not to include my face, or at least not ALL of it...
Again,
God, I'm an idiot!
And I'll try to make this at least INTERESTING. Promise.
Thanks for coming along with.
Steve
Here's what's been going on with me recently:
06/23/11
I had an appointment with my oncologist. All went well. I lost 4 pounds! I will see the doctor again in 3 months. It was one year ago today that I got the Non Hodgkins Lymphoma diagnosis.
That 12 months went by fast! A lot has changed in my life, that's for sure.
***
06/25/11
Austin went for another tandem ride with me, exact same route as last week. The only thing that was different was that he bitched almost the whole time. Not sure biking is his sport. I think PS3 is really his sport. I'm still working on him.
We went to a baseball game that my great nephew Cade played in for the city championship for his classification. They won which was nice for him and his buddies.
I've decided that I will refer to my great nieces and great nephews as my "greatchildren". They're not grandchildren but they are my great nieces and great nephews, so I'm going with "greatchildren". They call me "gunka" as it is a variation on "uncle", but I guess now they'll have to call me "grunka" as a variation on "great uncle".
God, I'm an idiot!
***
06/26/11
We spent all day Sunday prepping for my upcoming family reunion, which will be at our house. Washing screens and windows, yardwork, blah blah blah.
After all that misery was over, I jumped on my bike and took a nice ride, about 23 miles.
I think I had an epiphany: I do better WITHOUT a speedometer. I felt better, felt like I rode FASTER, and I definitely climbed hills WAY BETTER than I have all year! No lie, I really did climb them like a madman.
Note the lonely speedo socket on the left:
I climbed HEART ATTACK HILL 3x, although 1 of them was from the back side, so I'll only count 2. That was by far my high water mark for the year.
Here's a shot looking down HEART ATTACK HILL:
I think the speedometer was allowing me to concentrate too much on speed or speed variation (like, sheesh, I was just going 20MPH, now the wind's so bad it's got me knocked down to 12MPH, THIS IS KILLING ME!). Given a choice, I think I would just like to see HOW FAR I've gone instead of how fast. I think I psych myself out. The only downside to not having an onboard speedometer is that I have to calculate my mileage later, but that's no biggie.
After my next ride I should be right around 600 miles for the year.
***
In reading back over m'blog, I have to say that it pretty much sucks. The only time that it's potentially interesting is when I'm passionate about something or I'm learning about something, or there's something new and significant going on, e.g. cancer treatment, Tessa moving out, etc. I didn't mean for it to turn into a "then I ate dinner. I watched TV. I think American Idol is GREAT, don't you?... blah blah blah" type of thing, I really didn't.
At some point it kind of turned into a journal or diary. The only reason I started the thing was to record my thoughts, feelings, experiences, etc. in dealing with cancer.
Although the cancer treatment is ongoing, obviously there are long, long, long lulls in between. Not sure what to do with this, I'll be honest with you. Still trying to figure it out.
Sometimes I have a story idea or something happens that plays right into the 'blog (e.g., potential get together with long lost friends from previous employer). But sometimes it definitely IS "I rode my bike. We grilled burgers..." kind of thing, which is NOT interesting at all.
The other thing about the 'blog is something I hadn't thought about.
Late winter / early spring I was SO friggin' bored that I found myself scouring the ON DEMAND menu on the TV. I was watching "Shalom TV" which is centered on Jewish culture (nothing against Jewish people, but since I'm NOT Jewish, what was I doing watching that? My motivation was boredom mixed with a little curiosity, to be honest). Anyway, to cut to the chase, there was an author talking about her books, I think her name was Dani Shapiro. She said that she discovered WHAT she thought about something and WHY she thought WHAT she thought about a particular subject by -writing- about it. In the process of putting the words down on paper or on the computer, she works through all the whys and wherefores, etc.
As I watched her, I realized that the same is true for me.
I may not know why I have a certain belief or feeling, but if I sit down and pour all my thoughts into a keyboard, by the time I finish, I have a pretty thorough understanding of my feelings about a particular subject. What might start out in my head as a formless, nebulous kind of thing will have structure, make sense, follow a logical progression, etc., if I sit down and reason through it and put pen to paper or fingers to keys.
I always feel like whoever reads what I write may not agree with what I think, but if they read what I wrote and really think about it, they should at least have an UNDERSTANDING of my perspective.
And if I can get that person to that place, I've accomplished what I set out to do as a writer. The bonus is that for me, many times, I have a better understanding of myself. Does that make any friggin' sense at all?
The other bonus is that pouring the words into the keyboard can be cathartic. An example would be some of the stuff I wrote about Tessa moving out. After I posted those entries, I felt that I'd been able to get at least some of the grief and frustration off my chest. It didn't change the circumstances but it DID provide a cleansing of sorts, and a release of some pent-up frustration. It was also, hopefully, an accurate expression of my sense of failure and provided an explanation of the dark clouds hanging over me.
In some ways I wonder if writing my 'blog might be like having a friend who's a good listener, when you really need a good listener. I'm not sure who IS listening out there (I do get some feedback from time to time and I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!) but at least I feel like I'm broadcasting my thoughts and emotions out into the universe for whomever may be paying attention. And for some reason, even if it defies logic, it's therapeutic.
***
I have a relative to whom I spoke the other day. I'll paraphrase what he said to me: 'My dad was estranged from me and my family when I was growing up. I didn't have a father figure around. Experiences I had with YOUR DAD taught me what it meant to be a stand-up guy. A lot of how I turned out was because of YOUR DAD.'
Wow, did that ever make me think! My dad has been dead for 8 years. The person who told me that whole story is someone I think very highly of. Nice to know that my dad "passed it forward" so to speak, and now the circle goes on.
Sometimes we don't even realize that the little, seemingly insignificant things that go on in everyday life wind up being -lessons- that young, impressionable, and sometimes VERY emotionally NEEDY people (especially children) pick up on.
I WAS THERE when the entire episode in question played out, and it never occurred to me what was happening until I heard those words from that person the other day.
Someone is ALWAYS paying attention, even if it doesn't come to light until 30 years later. And by that time, we may be long gone.
***
Getting back to my 'blog, I realize a lot of it, especially recently, is BORING! Someone commented on the sheer -number- of pictures of myself. Didn't mean to do that, either, but it seemed like at the time they documented what I was talking about and I always think that the pictures add to the story and help the reader get a more accurate idea of what went on. I'll try to have LESS pictures of me (believe me, I HATE pictures of myself, I only put them in there because I thought they were helpful).
And, if I do include a picture of me, I'll try not to include my face, or at least not ALL of it...
Again,
God, I'm an idiot!
And I'll try to make this at least INTERESTING. Promise.
Thanks for coming along with.
Steve
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
06-20-2011
06-20-2011 (not posted until 6/22)
Okay, this 'blog is maybe more of a trave'blog. Pretty boring stuff.
You've been warned, here we go.
Tandemonium:
Saturday Austin asked me if I was going for a bike ride. As usual, I said that I was and asked him if he wanted to go. And as is also usual, he declined. Then all of the sudden, he said "OK, I'll go".
He asked if I was going to Silver Springs. I said yes, figuring that would for sure make him back out. He didn't flinch. I guess he's heard me talk about riding for so long that he figured he might just try it to see if he liked it.
I prepped the tandem, strapping in the seat bag for my cell phone, borrowing a bottle cage off another bike. I pumped the tires up to their 100 PSI rating. Then, so we could get up the hills, I removed the standard, useless resin pedals and replaced them with the toe strap type. That, for sure will be the deal breaker, I thought.
Time to go! He put on his biking gloves and some shades, and strapped on the helmet. This dude is all about looking the part. We added a water bottle for him and one for me.
He didn't even squawk about the straps on the pedals (!), just patiently got his feet secured. And we took off.
For the first three miles or so, I could tell that although his feet were securely strapped in, he wasn't pushing. I cajoled him a bit and then he helped with pedaling. Some. We got about 4 miles out and I told him we had some big hills. We could tackle them or we could turn around and go home.
He voted to go home.
We stopped for a water break at the point where we'd turn around. I took some "thumbs up" pictures with the cell phone and sent them to Julie. Austin wanted to talk to her. We called her and he was talking all this trash about riding clear out here and I'm sweating, (dammit), I'm sweating! After he hung up, I dangled the challenge, "OK buddy, we can go on to Silver Springs and climb a couple tough hills or we can turn around and go home..." He shocked me with "Let's go to Silver Springs!".
On we went. When we got to the first hill, I encouraged him to really push on the pedals and he dug in. We crested the hill easily.
We took a nature break at the park and then headed down the hill. He loved the speed. He kept telling me that he was sweating and that I was to be sure to tell Mom. And when we got home we were going to jump in the pool, he informed me.
Then came The Nutcracker. I told him his Aunt Dutchie (on a ride in 2008, picture below) didn't make it up this hill, she had to walk up it (loser!) and we didn't want to endure that shame, for we are manly men.
We started climbing, doing real well, still climbing... then gradually started going slower and slower and slower. Just as we were about at a standstill, I felt his helmet in my back and he let out a huge roar as he helped power us up the hill.
Nice to have your strong 24 year old son pitch in like that!
--Interesting technique, the stoker buries his head in the captain's back... but whatever, it worked.--
We made it to the top and he was really excited about meeting the challenge.
That lasted for a while. Then all I heard was "my butt hurt" and "my leg hurt" "my feet hurt", followed by the most persistent complaint "my hand hurt".
I'll add some bar ends so his hands won't hurt, just in case the mood strikes him again.
I asked him if he wanted to go again, he said "some time" which means a few days or a week later.
All in, it was about 12 miles. I was shocked that he committed, shocked that he followed though, and really pleasantly surprised that the kid (young man) reached down and legged it out.
In the words of Foghorn Leghorn,"that's m'boy!".
We had a great time bonding on that ride. My Father's Day present from Austin had arrived a day early.
Sunday Began Quietly Enough:
My plan for Father's Day weekend had been to pick the best day and rip off a BIG ride. I had planned on at least a Century (100 miles). Then I looked at the weather report. Rain all day Saturday, rain overnight into Sunday, then again all day Sunday. So I had figured I'd just try to work in a couple of decent rides between the raindrops IF I COULD.
That was stupid because the weather report was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Austin and I got our ride in on Saturday afternoon.
We got no rain all day Saturday, no rain overnight Sunday, and the Sunday morning rain never materialized, either.
Sunday I finally headed out late morning, about 10:30 and I figured I'd just play it by ear.
I tried out a new route, out to Shabbona Lake State Park. Not a bad ride, pretty flat mostly, but the roads were really not busy at all (HUGE BONUS!).
Some very cool cemeteries along the way, too.
I was about 19 miles out when I hit a bump and saw a black and red sphere go rocketing in front of my bike and into the weeds. What the... wait a minute, that was my black and red speedometer which was dislodged from its mount by the bump and launched by the rapidly spinning tire... and is gone.
The weeds at the side of the road were about 4 feet tall, full of thistles and god knows what else. After about five minutes of searching I chalked it up to experience. New speedometer is on the shopping list.
I pedaled into and around the park, checking out the lake and the boats, looking to see if my neighbor Tom, who fishes there quite often, was there. No sign of him.
Then I rode into town to hit the local Casey's quick stop for some refreshment.
Over to the elementary school to sit underneath a tree, stuff my face and gulp down some Propel.
Their memorial to the town's namesake, a Mr. Shabbona, was a nice touch.
's up, Chief?
I found a port-o-let for the pause that really refreshes and it was back on the road again.
Storm Clouds Gather:
On the way back, I made a route choice that almost cost me dearly. I shot south past my outbound east-west route so I could take a little bit longer route home. But then I started thinking that the rain clouds were closing in and so I cut off to go east again sooner than I had planned. This would take me down a road I was very familiar with, but one I had never actually biked on before. Recipe for "disastah", as it turned out.
I knew the choice would require me to ride on an extremely busy highway (US34) but only very briefly. I figured I could time my entrance onto the highway to coincide with a window of traffic inactivity so that I would have zero exposure to high speed traffic.
That was what I was worried about, but the traffic on that highway would turn out to be the least of my worries.
I never expected to encounter the DEMON DOG FROM HELL!
At this point I was about 40 miles into my ride but pretty tired as the day was extremely muggy. As I was riding down the road, passing a farmhouse, I noticed TWO BIG dogs on my left, running in their yard. I picked up speed as a precaution and they started barking and gave chase.
I gave my usual yell: "GET YOUR DOG!", (note that this yell varies with the perceived threat - especially ominous situations elicit the addition of colorful and multi-syllabic adjectives). My yell drew the standard response from any humans who might have been at the residence: dead silence.
Followed immediately by intense and prolonged inactivity.
But thanks for all your help.
The Mongrel Horde Attacks:
I'd never encountered a dog that was able to keep up with me on my bike, for very long anyway. I have a pretty fast road bike, and although I'm old, I can spin it pretty good, especially when the adrenaline's pumping. All the dogs eventually wear out, especially in muggy weather like we had Sunday.
One of the dogs barked viciously but kept a safe distance, the proverbial all bark and no bite.
My kind of dog, he was!
The other dog was definitely In It To Win It, barking like a vicious killer and running like a g-damned greyhound. I was stunned to discover that I couldn't lose him. WTF!? This does not compute!
He'd lunge at one of my feet, snapping away, I'd swerve across the road the other way, he'd come around behind and lunge at the other foot and I'd swerve in the opposite direction. Repeat ad nauseum.
Pedaling for ALL I was worth, the thought occurred to me that I would A) go over the handlebars and snap my friggin' neck, B) go over the handlebars and die of head trauma, or C) have a heart attack, crash, and feel my life ebb away face down on the sticky asphalt of County Line road, while the beast merrily shredded the flesh of my lifeless body.
This was followed by a flashback to those cool cemeteries visited earlier on my trip.
Then the DEMON DOG FROM HELL got in front of me and the mother effer ! cut me the eff off ! I shit you not. I had to slam on the binders and then, starting in the wrong-est, tall-est, tall-est gear, light the afterburners best I could to get away again. He did that 3 or 4 times.
Was this a tactic or was it just dumb luck on his part? Sidebar - I do not think the dog was dumb. The jury is still out on the dog's owner, however.
Although the whole thing probably only lasted a couple minutes, it seemed like f-o-r-e-v-e-r. And, more than once, he made me swerve all the way across the road to my left. If a vehicle had come barreling down behind me and pulled out to go around just as I made my crazy swerve, I would have been a red smear on the blacktop.
Happy Friggin' Father's Day!
And, what DO you do? Slow down and crawl along so he calms down? If you do that, he gets a good shot at taking you down. Then what?
Tried to run his legs off or asphyxiate him was what I did. Problem is that the speeds I was hitting, with an 85-100 pound dog as a speed bump, made it very hazardous.
But at the fight or flight decision point, it didn't make much sense to me to hop off the bike and take a swing at the pooch.
Could try to smash his head with the down stroke of my pedal... that could flip me also.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against dogs. Except when they attack me.
Seemed like the only thing to do was spin the pedals as fast as possible and try to wear him out.
This beast should be in the Iditarod.
Had I had a baseball bat, I would have taken my best swing, I promise you. That was BY FAR the worst chased_by_a_dog episode I've ever had. Don't know what would have happened had I crashed, but I was already reviewing in my mind everything I would do to beat that mutt to a bloody pulp before he could chew me up. I won't apologize for the thought. It was the most raw, visceral encounter I've had with an animal in... forever, I guess. And I'm sure you really had to be there to get the full effect. 'twas terrifying, for sure.
Not embarrassed to say it scared the living shit out of me.
After an eternity, he either wore down or grew tired of the chase, I can't say which for sure. But I left him in the dust.
In retrospect, the only thing that saved me was that I kept pedaling as fast as I could. He kept trying to bite a foot and they were just moving too fast. Had he gone for an upper leg or my rear end, the ending might have been much different.
Here, I'll go on my soapbox: If you have a dog and it likes to chase things, you are morally (and legally, for that matter) obligated to see that it doesn't leave your yard. I have no sympathy for the "oh, he wouldn't BITE you" or "he's never chased a bike BEFORE" attitude. The dog is just being a dog, following its natural instincts. If the dog is a chaser, the owner is responsible to see that the dog is secured, especially in the case of a vicious cur.
No excuses.
Imagine a kid on single speed BMX bike taking a leisurely ride out in the country and going past that house.... Somebody call 911!
Reviewing my shopping list... Speedometer... Pepper Spray...
The Storm Passes:
Other than that, the last leg of my ride was uneventful.
I successfully navigated the US34 section with NO TRAFFIC behind me and pedaled the final 10 miles or so without incident.
I pondered what would have happened had Austin and I had that kind of an encounter with a dog on our ride the day previous.
You would not have wanted to be the dog OR his owner, I promise you, if a beast like that got a hold of m'boy.
I wheeled into the garage and hung up my C'dale. I went out back and jumped into the pool, still reeling from the encounter.
52 miles was all I managed to ride, which was disappointing. I had to use google maps to calculate the mileage since I lost my speedo (-meter, not swimming suit) out there.
Hope you had a great weekend.
And never underestimate a strange dog.
You hear me?
Okay, this 'blog is maybe more of a trave'blog. Pretty boring stuff.
You've been warned, here we go.
Tandemonium:
Saturday Austin asked me if I was going for a bike ride. As usual, I said that I was and asked him if he wanted to go. And as is also usual, he declined. Then all of the sudden, he said "OK, I'll go".
He asked if I was going to Silver Springs. I said yes, figuring that would for sure make him back out. He didn't flinch. I guess he's heard me talk about riding for so long that he figured he might just try it to see if he liked it.
I prepped the tandem, strapping in the seat bag for my cell phone, borrowing a bottle cage off another bike. I pumped the tires up to their 100 PSI rating. Then, so we could get up the hills, I removed the standard, useless resin pedals and replaced them with the toe strap type. That, for sure will be the deal breaker, I thought.
Time to go! He put on his biking gloves and some shades, and strapped on the helmet. This dude is all about looking the part. We added a water bottle for him and one for me.
He didn't even squawk about the straps on the pedals (!), just patiently got his feet secured. And we took off.
For the first three miles or so, I could tell that although his feet were securely strapped in, he wasn't pushing. I cajoled him a bit and then he helped with pedaling. Some. We got about 4 miles out and I told him we had some big hills. We could tackle them or we could turn around and go home.
He voted to go home.
We stopped for a water break at the point where we'd turn around. I took some "thumbs up" pictures with the cell phone and sent them to Julie. Austin wanted to talk to her. We called her and he was talking all this trash about riding clear out here and I'm sweating, (dammit), I'm sweating! After he hung up, I dangled the challenge, "OK buddy, we can go on to Silver Springs and climb a couple tough hills or we can turn around and go home..." He shocked me with "Let's go to Silver Springs!".
On we went. When we got to the first hill, I encouraged him to really push on the pedals and he dug in. We crested the hill easily.
We took a nature break at the park and then headed down the hill. He loved the speed. He kept telling me that he was sweating and that I was to be sure to tell Mom. And when we got home we were going to jump in the pool, he informed me.
Then came The Nutcracker. I told him his Aunt Dutchie (on a ride in 2008, picture below) didn't make it up this hill, she had to walk up it (loser!) and we didn't want to endure that shame, for we are manly men.
We started climbing, doing real well, still climbing... then gradually started going slower and slower and slower. Just as we were about at a standstill, I felt his helmet in my back and he let out a huge roar as he helped power us up the hill.
Nice to have your strong 24 year old son pitch in like that!
--Interesting technique, the stoker buries his head in the captain's back... but whatever, it worked.--
We made it to the top and he was really excited about meeting the challenge.
That lasted for a while. Then all I heard was "my butt hurt" and "my leg hurt" "my feet hurt", followed by the most persistent complaint "my hand hurt".
I'll add some bar ends so his hands won't hurt, just in case the mood strikes him again.
I asked him if he wanted to go again, he said "some time" which means a few days or a week later.
All in, it was about 12 miles. I was shocked that he committed, shocked that he followed though, and really pleasantly surprised that the kid (young man) reached down and legged it out.
In the words of Foghorn Leghorn,"that's m'boy!".
We had a great time bonding on that ride. My Father's Day present from Austin had arrived a day early.
Sunday Began Quietly Enough:
My plan for Father's Day weekend had been to pick the best day and rip off a BIG ride. I had planned on at least a Century (100 miles). Then I looked at the weather report. Rain all day Saturday, rain overnight into Sunday, then again all day Sunday. So I had figured I'd just try to work in a couple of decent rides between the raindrops IF I COULD.
That was stupid because the weather report was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Austin and I got our ride in on Saturday afternoon.
We got no rain all day Saturday, no rain overnight Sunday, and the Sunday morning rain never materialized, either.
Sunday I finally headed out late morning, about 10:30 and I figured I'd just play it by ear.
I tried out a new route, out to Shabbona Lake State Park. Not a bad ride, pretty flat mostly, but the roads were really not busy at all (HUGE BONUS!).
Some very cool cemeteries along the way, too.
I was about 19 miles out when I hit a bump and saw a black and red sphere go rocketing in front of my bike and into the weeds. What the... wait a minute, that was my black and red speedometer which was dislodged from its mount by the bump and launched by the rapidly spinning tire... and is gone.
The weeds at the side of the road were about 4 feet tall, full of thistles and god knows what else. After about five minutes of searching I chalked it up to experience. New speedometer is on the shopping list.
I pedaled into and around the park, checking out the lake and the boats, looking to see if my neighbor Tom, who fishes there quite often, was there. No sign of him.
Then I rode into town to hit the local Casey's quick stop for some refreshment.Over to the elementary school to sit underneath a tree, stuff my face and gulp down some Propel.
Their memorial to the town's namesake, a Mr. Shabbona, was a nice touch.
's up, Chief?
I found a port-o-let for the pause that really refreshes and it was back on the road again.
Storm Clouds Gather:
On the way back, I made a route choice that almost cost me dearly. I shot south past my outbound east-west route so I could take a little bit longer route home. But then I started thinking that the rain clouds were closing in and so I cut off to go east again sooner than I had planned. This would take me down a road I was very familiar with, but one I had never actually biked on before. Recipe for "disastah", as it turned out.
I knew the choice would require me to ride on an extremely busy highway (US34) but only very briefly. I figured I could time my entrance onto the highway to coincide with a window of traffic inactivity so that I would have zero exposure to high speed traffic.
That was what I was worried about, but the traffic on that highway would turn out to be the least of my worries.
I never expected to encounter the DEMON DOG FROM HELL!
At this point I was about 40 miles into my ride but pretty tired as the day was extremely muggy. As I was riding down the road, passing a farmhouse, I noticed TWO BIG dogs on my left, running in their yard. I picked up speed as a precaution and they started barking and gave chase.
I gave my usual yell: "GET YOUR DOG!", (note that this yell varies with the perceived threat - especially ominous situations elicit the addition of colorful and multi-syllabic adjectives). My yell drew the standard response from any humans who might have been at the residence: dead silence.
Followed immediately by intense and prolonged inactivity.
But thanks for all your help.
The Mongrel Horde Attacks:
I'd never encountered a dog that was able to keep up with me on my bike, for very long anyway. I have a pretty fast road bike, and although I'm old, I can spin it pretty good, especially when the adrenaline's pumping. All the dogs eventually wear out, especially in muggy weather like we had Sunday.
One of the dogs barked viciously but kept a safe distance, the proverbial all bark and no bite.
My kind of dog, he was!
The other dog was definitely In It To Win It, barking like a vicious killer and running like a g-damned greyhound. I was stunned to discover that I couldn't lose him. WTF!? This does not compute!
He'd lunge at one of my feet, snapping away, I'd swerve across the road the other way, he'd come around behind and lunge at the other foot and I'd swerve in the opposite direction. Repeat ad nauseum.
Pedaling for ALL I was worth, the thought occurred to me that I would A) go over the handlebars and snap my friggin' neck, B) go over the handlebars and die of head trauma, or C) have a heart attack, crash, and feel my life ebb away face down on the sticky asphalt of County Line road, while the beast merrily shredded the flesh of my lifeless body.
This was followed by a flashback to those cool cemeteries visited earlier on my trip.
Then the DEMON DOG FROM HELL got in front of me and the mother effer ! cut me the eff off ! I shit you not. I had to slam on the binders and then, starting in the wrong-est, tall-est, tall-est gear, light the afterburners best I could to get away again. He did that 3 or 4 times.
Was this a tactic or was it just dumb luck on his part? Sidebar - I do not think the dog was dumb. The jury is still out on the dog's owner, however.
Although the whole thing probably only lasted a couple minutes, it seemed like f-o-r-e-v-e-r. And, more than once, he made me swerve all the way across the road to my left. If a vehicle had come barreling down behind me and pulled out to go around just as I made my crazy swerve, I would have been a red smear on the blacktop.
Happy Friggin' Father's Day!
And, what DO you do? Slow down and crawl along so he calms down? If you do that, he gets a good shot at taking you down. Then what?
Tried to run his legs off or asphyxiate him was what I did. Problem is that the speeds I was hitting, with an 85-100 pound dog as a speed bump, made it very hazardous.
But at the fight or flight decision point, it didn't make much sense to me to hop off the bike and take a swing at the pooch.
Could try to smash his head with the down stroke of my pedal... that could flip me also.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against dogs. Except when they attack me.
Seemed like the only thing to do was spin the pedals as fast as possible and try to wear him out.
This beast should be in the Iditarod.
Had I had a baseball bat, I would have taken my best swing, I promise you. That was BY FAR the worst chased_by_a_dog episode I've ever had. Don't know what would have happened had I crashed, but I was already reviewing in my mind everything I would do to beat that mutt to a bloody pulp before he could chew me up. I won't apologize for the thought. It was the most raw, visceral encounter I've had with an animal in... forever, I guess. And I'm sure you really had to be there to get the full effect. 'twas terrifying, for sure.
Not embarrassed to say it scared the living shit out of me.
After an eternity, he either wore down or grew tired of the chase, I can't say which for sure. But I left him in the dust.
In retrospect, the only thing that saved me was that I kept pedaling as fast as I could. He kept trying to bite a foot and they were just moving too fast. Had he gone for an upper leg or my rear end, the ending might have been much different.
Here, I'll go on my soapbox: If you have a dog and it likes to chase things, you are morally (and legally, for that matter) obligated to see that it doesn't leave your yard. I have no sympathy for the "oh, he wouldn't BITE you" or "he's never chased a bike BEFORE" attitude. The dog is just being a dog, following its natural instincts. If the dog is a chaser, the owner is responsible to see that the dog is secured, especially in the case of a vicious cur.
No excuses.
Imagine a kid on single speed BMX bike taking a leisurely ride out in the country and going past that house.... Somebody call 911!
Reviewing my shopping list... Speedometer... Pepper Spray...
The Storm Passes:
Other than that, the last leg of my ride was uneventful.
I successfully navigated the US34 section with NO TRAFFIC behind me and pedaled the final 10 miles or so without incident.
I pondered what would have happened had Austin and I had that kind of an encounter with a dog on our ride the day previous.
You would not have wanted to be the dog OR his owner, I promise you, if a beast like that got a hold of m'boy.
I wheeled into the garage and hung up my C'dale. I went out back and jumped into the pool, still reeling from the encounter.
52 miles was all I managed to ride, which was disappointing. I had to use google maps to calculate the mileage since I lost my speedo (-meter, not swimming suit) out there.
Hope you had a great weekend.
And never underestimate a strange dog.
You hear me?
Thursday, June 16, 2011
06-16-11 PM
06-16-11 PM
Chemo went well today. I finished up about 2:40. After the fatigue left me, I decided I had to do something so I grabbed the bike and took off.
Left home at about 6:30 and since I got a late start, it was mostly a sprint except when I was taking pictures. I felt pretty good, just some occasional stomach cramps.
Finished with 16 miles. Still have the cramps a little bit but -nothing else- at least so far.
You really should try cycling. It's a lot of fun!
So the sun has gone down on this round of chemo. I will meet with the doctor next week and see what he has to say.
***
When I walked into the doctor's office, I said to the receptionist, in my best nasally, twangy voice "It's me, it's me, it's Ernest T!"
She shocked me (didn't think she was old enough) by coming back with "I love you Miss Krump" and "Now Earnest T., you put down that rock".
We were channeling Ernest T. Bass from the Andy Griffith Show back in the day.
Do you remember?
You have not heard the last... of Ernest T. Bass!
Thanks for swinging by!
Chemo went well today. I finished up about 2:40. After the fatigue left me, I decided I had to do something so I grabbed the bike and took off.
Left home at about 6:30 and since I got a late start, it was mostly a sprint except when I was taking pictures. I felt pretty good, just some occasional stomach cramps.
Finished with 16 miles. Still have the cramps a little bit but -nothing else- at least so far.You really should try cycling. It's a lot of fun!
So the sun has gone down on this round of chemo. I will meet with the doctor next week and see what he has to say.***
When I walked into the doctor's office, I said to the receptionist, in my best nasally, twangy voice "It's me, it's me, it's Ernest T!"
She shocked me (didn't think she was old enough) by coming back with "I love you Miss Krump" and "Now Earnest T., you put down that rock".
We were channeling Ernest T. Bass from the Andy Griffith Show back in the day.
Do you remember?
You have not heard the last... of Ernest T. Bass!
Thanks for swinging by!
06-16-2011
06-16-2011
My final chemo for this round is today, starts at 11:45. Then I'll be done for six months! Woo-hoo!
My final chemo for this round is today, starts at 11:45. Then I'll be done for six months! Woo-hoo!
Monday, June 13, 2011
06-13-2011
06-13-2011
Friday, the day after Chemo - I was a little bit tired, that was all, didn't even have a headache this time, so that's going very well.
***
Saturday - I went to my nephew C-Dubs's baseball game in the morning. I ran into a guy I used to work with whose grandson was playing for the other team. I actually worked at a couple different places with him starting 1978-1986 and then again about 1988 for a while. Hadn't seen him for a long time. We compared near death experiences: He had a heart attack several years ago and is living on borrowed time, he says. I told him about my escapades. We both agreed that we feel lucky every morning we wake up and that every day is a good day.
What was it, a friggin' grandpa convention?
Hell to be old.
After we got done with our stories, I told him I was going to a benefit for a guy who died at 31 and left behind 4 kids. We both considered our good fortune, all things considered.
***
Saturday afternoon Julie and I headed to the Tommy Benefit. We worked the cotton candy machine.
Quite an experience and quite a turnout, for a terrific cause. Over 500 people showed up and I think they netted a nice amount for the family, God bless them.
We ran into a dear old friend, Suzy, who was an administrator where Tessa goes to school, until the beginning of this school year. It was great to see her with her husband and granddaughter. We remarked on how much she was missed. She said she hated to go, but "at some point you just have to stop". I know she had been there for quite a few years and like a lot of other things in life, sometimes you have to turn the page. Time for Suzy to enjoy her retirement. It was great to see her.
At the benefit our friend "Switzerland" told me I sound like Jon Lovitz in "The Brave Little Toaster".
Someone else confirmed that, although I can't be sure that this person wasn't just trying to put the moves on Switzerland.
Never got that before... Years ago, when I still had some hair left, people said I had Steve Martin written all over me.
Wellllll, excuuuuuuuuse me!
Back to reality now.
After we left the party, we went with some family and friends to a local greasy spoon for a late night snack. I remarked how a lot of used to stop in there after being out and about on the weekends to grab a bite to eat, in the wee hours, and now, look, here we are again!
Only THEN it was usually about 3:30 AM, now it's 10:30 PM, and let's get home so we can hit the sack!
***
Sunday morning I drove over to see my mom. My sister Mary had sent her a device to help her get her seat belt on, so I installed that for her and visited for a while. She's doing pretty well.
Sunday afternoon I mowed the yard and then I hopped on the bike. It was a beautiful day and I had a nice ride. I'm within striking distance of 500 miles for the year and seem to be picking up momentum, it all hinges on the weather.
Rode past the Testicle Festival. No kidding, link HERE.
Saw some vehicles I recognized, but I didn't stop.
Almost immediately after I passed there, I got buzzed by a motorcycle. Passed about 12" away at about 45 MPH. Not appreciated and not expected from a fellow two wheeler. About 3 miles later, same thing, this time at about 18-24" away at about 60 MPH. Not effing funny. Took a lot of balls. Which probably explains where they most likely came from. Yes, The Testicle Festival.
But seriously, eff them. No excuse for being an asshole, especially when you had plenty of room to pass safely. And who would expect it from a motorcyclist, all of whom you'd think would have at least a little bit of sympathy for a (vulnerable) minority?
As with everything else, a couple idiots besmirch the reputation of all the others.
***
After I got home, we headed out to see Tessa. She started her new medicine for OCD and seems to be tolerating it well. The problem was that she wanted to go home with us. She'll come home next Friday. Now we're in a quandary as to whether it's a good idea to visit her. We really don't want to go 2 weeks between seeing her but if it makes her miserable to see us if she can't go home (which it did last night), is it worth it?
Never ends, does it?
My final maintenance chemo for this round is due this Thursday.
Hope you had a nice weekend.
Friday, the day after Chemo - I was a little bit tired, that was all, didn't even have a headache this time, so that's going very well.
***
Saturday - I went to my nephew C-Dubs's baseball game in the morning. I ran into a guy I used to work with whose grandson was playing for the other team. I actually worked at a couple different places with him starting 1978-1986 and then again about 1988 for a while. Hadn't seen him for a long time. We compared near death experiences: He had a heart attack several years ago and is living on borrowed time, he says. I told him about my escapades. We both agreed that we feel lucky every morning we wake up and that every day is a good day.
What was it, a friggin' grandpa convention?
Hell to be old.
After we got done with our stories, I told him I was going to a benefit for a guy who died at 31 and left behind 4 kids. We both considered our good fortune, all things considered.
***
Saturday afternoon Julie and I headed to the Tommy Benefit. We worked the cotton candy machine.
Quite an experience and quite a turnout, for a terrific cause. Over 500 people showed up and I think they netted a nice amount for the family, God bless them.We ran into a dear old friend, Suzy, who was an administrator where Tessa goes to school, until the beginning of this school year. It was great to see her with her husband and granddaughter. We remarked on how much she was missed. She said she hated to go, but "at some point you just have to stop". I know she had been there for quite a few years and like a lot of other things in life, sometimes you have to turn the page. Time for Suzy to enjoy her retirement. It was great to see her.
At the benefit our friend "Switzerland" told me I sound like Jon Lovitz in "The Brave Little Toaster".
Someone else confirmed that, although I can't be sure that this person wasn't just trying to put the moves on Switzerland.
Never got that before... Years ago, when I still had some hair left, people said I had Steve Martin written all over me.
Wellllll, excuuuuuuuuse me!
Back to reality now.
After we left the party, we went with some family and friends to a local greasy spoon for a late night snack. I remarked how a lot of used to stop in there after being out and about on the weekends to grab a bite to eat, in the wee hours, and now, look, here we are again!
Only THEN it was usually about 3:30 AM, now it's 10:30 PM, and let's get home so we can hit the sack!
***
Sunday morning I drove over to see my mom. My sister Mary had sent her a device to help her get her seat belt on, so I installed that for her and visited for a while. She's doing pretty well.
Sunday afternoon I mowed the yard and then I hopped on the bike. It was a beautiful day and I had a nice ride. I'm within striking distance of 500 miles for the year and seem to be picking up momentum, it all hinges on the weather.
Rode past the Testicle Festival. No kidding, link HERE.
Saw some vehicles I recognized, but I didn't stop.
Almost immediately after I passed there, I got buzzed by a motorcycle. Passed about 12" away at about 45 MPH. Not appreciated and not expected from a fellow two wheeler. About 3 miles later, same thing, this time at about 18-24" away at about 60 MPH. Not effing funny. Took a lot of balls. Which probably explains where they most likely came from. Yes, The Testicle Festival.
But seriously, eff them. No excuse for being an asshole, especially when you had plenty of room to pass safely. And who would expect it from a motorcyclist, all of whom you'd think would have at least a little bit of sympathy for a (vulnerable) minority?
As with everything else, a couple idiots besmirch the reputation of all the others.
***
After I got home, we headed out to see Tessa. She started her new medicine for OCD and seems to be tolerating it well. The problem was that she wanted to go home with us. She'll come home next Friday. Now we're in a quandary as to whether it's a good idea to visit her. We really don't want to go 2 weeks between seeing her but if it makes her miserable to see us if she can't go home (which it did last night), is it worth it?
Never ends, does it?
My final maintenance chemo for this round is due this Thursday.
Hope you had a nice weekend.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
06-08-2011
06-08-2011
Although I left for work this morning at 4:00, and was beat when I got home, I had a nice ride again tonight, 22 miles. Here's my secret - the power nap. When I got home from work this afternoon I went face down on the bed for about 20 minutes and when I woke up I was totally recharged. I'm making a mental note to remember the value of the power nap! What with me being old and all.
I wouldn't have even rode tonight but it looks like we have 3 days of rain on tap after a couple of days in the mid nineties. Uggh!
***
Still waiting for the pool to clear up. Seems like it's getting better but it's like watching paint dry, taking forever. The pool is really being used a lot with all the hot weather we've been having.
***
!!! WARNING !!! Boring ramblings of a crazy old man to follow. Suggest you turn back now !!!
I used to work for a large telecom company. I loved my job. I had a lot of good friends there, many I knew better than I knew some members of my own family. I was respected in my position. I was well compensated.
In 1999 I decided that I was doing well enough that I could move my family to a nicer home. We sold our house and moved into a nice house in a new subdivision.
Then everything changed. I never saw it coming.
In the summer of 2001 the company was looking to reduce staff, so they offered a buyout to anyone with 10 years service. The deal was that they would allow you to take an early, and enhanced pension. They would let you take your health insurance with you. These two little details would help you tremendously in dealing with the separation, and the buzz was that there would be plenty of separation to go around for the foreseeable future. The deal was only for people with 10 years service. I had 19 & 1/2. But I was not eligible because there was an additional stipulation regarding age: I was too young by 18 months.
So, I watched people with roughly half the service I had walk out with the sweet deal. Nothing I could do about it.
6 months later they needed to shed more staff. For these unfortunate souls, there would be no sweetheart deal. They came to us and basically said "get your shit and get out". It was not pretty and it was not done professionally.
The manager who laid me off said there were a few other jobs available within the company. There was an ongoing process to identify and place laid off personnel directly into those jobs. She promised me she'd do anything she could to help me land one of those positions before my layoff became official, in 30 days. I was to clean out my desk, turn in my badge and go home to start looking for my next job, either back at The Company or somewhere else.
Over the next 30 days I reached out to this manager many, many times trying to land one of the available jobs. I left voicemails and sent emails. I asked her secretary to have her call me. I was desperately trying to hang on. I could not get her to respond, no matter what I tried.
Finally, one day my phone rang. It was the manager's secretary - "Brenda needs to see you. And bring your laptop!"
Brenda had finally called me - for my exit interview.
At the interview, just before Christmas, Brenda went through all the formalities to separate me from The Company. She said nothing about the jobs she had promised were available. It was obvious she would not help me.
Her promise was a lie and Brenda was a Liar.
When she was done, she asked if I wanted to say anything. I said "When you laid me off, you said you'd do ANYTHING you could do to help place me in a job here. Brenda, I can't even count how many times I called you. Or how many times I emailed you. But you couldn't respond to an email or call me, or lift one finger to help me. The only time I got a call was when you needed me to come in for the exit interview, to get your paperwork all tidied up. I've worked here for 20 years. I understand that no one is promised a job for life. But what I really didn't expect was to be treated like garbage. I deserved better than that, I really did. But how nice for you that you can get all this unpleasant business tidied up so you can go home to your family and have a nice Christmas!"
Brenda looked at me and said "that's fair".
For years, when I drove past the building I couldn't bring myself to look at it. And when I looked in the mirror I saw a bitter, bitter man. I have never recovered from that loss, emotionally or financially. But one day I had a talk with myself. I told myself that I was becoming the person that no one cared to be around. The kind that just bitches about their misfortune and is consumed with anger and resentment. Other people have had worse things happen to them. I decided to just go on with my life.
The company left me 10 years ago this December.
I often think about my friends there. I have had sporadic contact with a few over the years, but recently that had dwindled down to basically no contact with anyone. A couple weeks ago one of my friends from there (who also was let go) found me on a business networking website that I had signed up for years ago.
Ruben called me today and we talked about old times. We got on the subject of our old pals at the old job. We kicked around the idea of having a reunion of sorts. I told Ruben something that I have only recently and begrudgingly admitted to myself: I don't know if I could bring myself to reconnect with my old buddies who still work there.
I have recently poked around on the networking website to see who's doing what. There are some people I worked with at the old place who still work there. When I think that they are still there and I've had basically 4 significant jobs since then plus some odd jobs here and there, it makes me sick. Don't get me wrong, I like my present job and don't see myself leaving there. But I had to endure more than one stint on unemployment and had to take some jobs after I got whacked that... well, you get the idea.
If I were still there... I'd have 30 years service this December. I'd probably have 6 weeks vacation... and on and on. Sickening to consider.
I understand that the people who are still there were not the architects of the bloodbaths over there, but I still can't help but feel that meeting up with them again might be quite uncomfortable. I would hate to feel that they pitied me. And I guess I wonder if they might feel superior, for obviously they were kept and I was rejected. Those notions are probably crazy. But I can't shake them.
And I ask myself how I'd feel if I were one of the fortunate ones who are still there. I'll never know.
Even though losing that job happened almost 10 years ago, I'm sure you can tell by reading this that the scab is still fresh. Kinda surprised myself while writing this just how fresh it is. It will never heal completely.
***
When The Bitch said "that's fair", I understood why sometimes you turn on the news and see where someone walked into their workplace and did something ugly.
Some of the people who do those things are mentally ill. But some of them are people who were abused and lied to and gave in to their feelings of desperation, betrayal and anger.
I would never do such a thing and I'm not saying it's right. Not saying I condone it. Just saying I understand.
***
Sheesh, I do go on.
Chemo tomorrow.
Although I left for work this morning at 4:00, and was beat when I got home, I had a nice ride again tonight, 22 miles. Here's my secret - the power nap. When I got home from work this afternoon I went face down on the bed for about 20 minutes and when I woke up I was totally recharged. I'm making a mental note to remember the value of the power nap! What with me being old and all.
I wouldn't have even rode tonight but it looks like we have 3 days of rain on tap after a couple of days in the mid nineties. Uggh!
***
Still waiting for the pool to clear up. Seems like it's getting better but it's like watching paint dry, taking forever. The pool is really being used a lot with all the hot weather we've been having.
***
!!! WARNING !!! Boring ramblings of a crazy old man to follow. Suggest you turn back now !!!
I used to work for a large telecom company. I loved my job. I had a lot of good friends there, many I knew better than I knew some members of my own family. I was respected in my position. I was well compensated.
In 1999 I decided that I was doing well enough that I could move my family to a nicer home. We sold our house and moved into a nice house in a new subdivision.
Then everything changed. I never saw it coming.
In the summer of 2001 the company was looking to reduce staff, so they offered a buyout to anyone with 10 years service. The deal was that they would allow you to take an early, and enhanced pension. They would let you take your health insurance with you. These two little details would help you tremendously in dealing with the separation, and the buzz was that there would be plenty of separation to go around for the foreseeable future. The deal was only for people with 10 years service. I had 19 & 1/2. But I was not eligible because there was an additional stipulation regarding age: I was too young by 18 months.
So, I watched people with roughly half the service I had walk out with the sweet deal. Nothing I could do about it.
6 months later they needed to shed more staff. For these unfortunate souls, there would be no sweetheart deal. They came to us and basically said "get your shit and get out". It was not pretty and it was not done professionally.
The manager who laid me off said there were a few other jobs available within the company. There was an ongoing process to identify and place laid off personnel directly into those jobs. She promised me she'd do anything she could to help me land one of those positions before my layoff became official, in 30 days. I was to clean out my desk, turn in my badge and go home to start looking for my next job, either back at The Company or somewhere else.
Over the next 30 days I reached out to this manager many, many times trying to land one of the available jobs. I left voicemails and sent emails. I asked her secretary to have her call me. I was desperately trying to hang on. I could not get her to respond, no matter what I tried.
Finally, one day my phone rang. It was the manager's secretary - "Brenda needs to see you. And bring your laptop!"
Brenda had finally called me - for my exit interview.
At the interview, just before Christmas, Brenda went through all the formalities to separate me from The Company. She said nothing about the jobs she had promised were available. It was obvious she would not help me.
Her promise was a lie and Brenda was a Liar.
When she was done, she asked if I wanted to say anything. I said "When you laid me off, you said you'd do ANYTHING you could do to help place me in a job here. Brenda, I can't even count how many times I called you. Or how many times I emailed you. But you couldn't respond to an email or call me, or lift one finger to help me. The only time I got a call was when you needed me to come in for the exit interview, to get your paperwork all tidied up. I've worked here for 20 years. I understand that no one is promised a job for life. But what I really didn't expect was to be treated like garbage. I deserved better than that, I really did. But how nice for you that you can get all this unpleasant business tidied up so you can go home to your family and have a nice Christmas!"
Brenda looked at me and said "that's fair".
For years, when I drove past the building I couldn't bring myself to look at it. And when I looked in the mirror I saw a bitter, bitter man. I have never recovered from that loss, emotionally or financially. But one day I had a talk with myself. I told myself that I was becoming the person that no one cared to be around. The kind that just bitches about their misfortune and is consumed with anger and resentment. Other people have had worse things happen to them. I decided to just go on with my life.
The company left me 10 years ago this December.
I often think about my friends there. I have had sporadic contact with a few over the years, but recently that had dwindled down to basically no contact with anyone. A couple weeks ago one of my friends from there (who also was let go) found me on a business networking website that I had signed up for years ago.
Ruben called me today and we talked about old times. We got on the subject of our old pals at the old job. We kicked around the idea of having a reunion of sorts. I told Ruben something that I have only recently and begrudgingly admitted to myself: I don't know if I could bring myself to reconnect with my old buddies who still work there.
I have recently poked around on the networking website to see who's doing what. There are some people I worked with at the old place who still work there. When I think that they are still there and I've had basically 4 significant jobs since then plus some odd jobs here and there, it makes me sick. Don't get me wrong, I like my present job and don't see myself leaving there. But I had to endure more than one stint on unemployment and had to take some jobs after I got whacked that... well, you get the idea.
If I were still there... I'd have 30 years service this December. I'd probably have 6 weeks vacation... and on and on. Sickening to consider.
I understand that the people who are still there were not the architects of the bloodbaths over there, but I still can't help but feel that meeting up with them again might be quite uncomfortable. I would hate to feel that they pitied me. And I guess I wonder if they might feel superior, for obviously they were kept and I was rejected. Those notions are probably crazy. But I can't shake them.
And I ask myself how I'd feel if I were one of the fortunate ones who are still there. I'll never know.
Even though losing that job happened almost 10 years ago, I'm sure you can tell by reading this that the scab is still fresh. Kinda surprised myself while writing this just how fresh it is. It will never heal completely.
***
When The Bitch said "that's fair", I understood why sometimes you turn on the news and see where someone walked into their workplace and did something ugly.
Some of the people who do those things are mentally ill. But some of them are people who were abused and lied to and gave in to their feelings of desperation, betrayal and anger.
I would never do such a thing and I'm not saying it's right. Not saying I condone it. Just saying I understand.
***
Sheesh, I do go on.
Chemo tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
06-07-2011
06-07-2011
This morning we met with Tessa's doctor. We are going to start, slowly, with some OCD medicine at the end of this week. The doctor acknowledged that the meds she was prescribed can make a person drowsy (the histamine effect, I think he said) but that after a short time, that goes away.
At any rate, we're going to take baby steps and see if we can minimize some of the OCD behavior she experiences.
***
One of our customers at work has a son who's autistic. I talked to him today for the first time in a long time. I told him we'd placed Tessa. He had a lot of questions and we had a lot to talk about. A lot of the thoughts that he and his wife had are the same as Julie and I had, which I guess is predictable. I told him I'd send him the link to my 'blog. I hope Lenny and his wife find some value in reading what I wrote about placing Tessa.
***
Hot, hot, hot today. I think the high was 95 or so. They called it dangerously hot. Since I'm an idiot, I took that as a personal challenge (in my defense, I don't think the humidity was as bad as it usually is at 95 degrees around here, so there!). I went for a nice bike ride after work, about 22 miles. I actually felt pretty good, "artsy" pictures below.
Catch you later!
This morning we met with Tessa's doctor. We are going to start, slowly, with some OCD medicine at the end of this week. The doctor acknowledged that the meds she was prescribed can make a person drowsy (the histamine effect, I think he said) but that after a short time, that goes away.
At any rate, we're going to take baby steps and see if we can minimize some of the OCD behavior she experiences.
***
One of our customers at work has a son who's autistic. I talked to him today for the first time in a long time. I told him we'd placed Tessa. He had a lot of questions and we had a lot to talk about. A lot of the thoughts that he and his wife had are the same as Julie and I had, which I guess is predictable. I told him I'd send him the link to my 'blog. I hope Lenny and his wife find some value in reading what I wrote about placing Tessa.
***
Hot, hot, hot today. I think the high was 95 or so. They called it dangerously hot. Since I'm an idiot, I took that as a personal challenge (in my defense, I don't think the humidity was as bad as it usually is at 95 degrees around here, so there!). I went for a nice bike ride after work, about 22 miles. I actually felt pretty good, "artsy" pictures below.
Catch you later!
Monday, June 6, 2011
06-06-2011
06-06-2011
I'm feeling OK, the tenderness in my mouth seems to be mostly gone now. Back to normal I guess.
***
The pool guy stopped Saturday. He thinks we'll be OK. We have some work to do to test his theory that there's no leak. He believes the "sand" was not sand at all, but rather decomposed plant matter....but it looks just like sand! Julie's claiming an "I told you so" on this one.
So, potentially that's good news, we'll see what happens. Pool is still cloudy. Work in progress.
***
It was 87 yesterday, I got a good ride in, almost 30 miles.
Bo-ring shot of the Leland, Illinois water tower as viewed from Casey's:
No mojo, no mo': My trip odometer is at about 400 for the year. My mojo is missing in action, however. I am at a total loss to explain this. Please call if you see m'mojo, I will come pick it up immediately, thank you.
***
Tessa is no longer on the meds that were troubling her. She had a good weekend once we stopped giving her the OCD medicine.
We took her back Sunday about noon, the house mothers have orders from the nurse NOT to give her those particular pills. Plan is to meet with the doctor tomorrow and "negotiate" what we're willing to try medication-wise, to ameliorate her OCD. It's a noble cause, hopefully we can get her some relief with minimal side effects. Rendering her a zombie is not an option.
***
With a Friday ride and a Sunday ride, good summer weather, plus getting Tessa back on track, it was a good weekend. I'm pretty beat this morning.
Have a great week!
I'm feeling OK, the tenderness in my mouth seems to be mostly gone now. Back to normal I guess.
***
The pool guy stopped Saturday. He thinks we'll be OK. We have some work to do to test his theory that there's no leak. He believes the "sand" was not sand at all, but rather decomposed plant matter....but it looks just like sand! Julie's claiming an "I told you so" on this one.
So, potentially that's good news, we'll see what happens. Pool is still cloudy. Work in progress.
***
It was 87 yesterday, I got a good ride in, almost 30 miles.
Bo-ring shot of the Leland, Illinois water tower as viewed from Casey's:
No mojo, no mo': My trip odometer is at about 400 for the year. My mojo is missing in action, however. I am at a total loss to explain this. Please call if you see m'mojo, I will come pick it up immediately, thank you.
***
Tessa is no longer on the meds that were troubling her. She had a good weekend once we stopped giving her the OCD medicine.
We took her back Sunday about noon, the house mothers have orders from the nurse NOT to give her those particular pills. Plan is to meet with the doctor tomorrow and "negotiate" what we're willing to try medication-wise, to ameliorate her OCD. It's a noble cause, hopefully we can get her some relief with minimal side effects. Rendering her a zombie is not an option.
***
With a Friday ride and a Sunday ride, good summer weather, plus getting Tessa back on track, it was a good weekend. I'm pretty beat this morning.
Have a great week!
Friday, June 3, 2011
06-03-2011
06-03-2011
Kind of slept in this morning, didn't get to work until almost 8 (usually I get there around 6).
I guess I'm still dragging a little bit.
Also today I'm noticing my mouth is a little tender from the chemo.
I did about 20 miles on the bike after work. More of our windy weather.
So, I did climb the hill tonight, about 16 miles into my ride. 1 time and it kicked my ass. Last year I kicked it's ass. Easily. And repeatedly.
Very depressing.
I have lots of work to do.
Kind of slept in this morning, didn't get to work until almost 8 (usually I get there around 6).
I guess I'm still dragging a little bit.
Also today I'm noticing my mouth is a little tender from the chemo.
I did about 20 miles on the bike after work. More of our windy weather.
So, I did climb the hill tonight, about 16 miles into my ride. 1 time and it kicked my ass. Last year I kicked it's ass. Easily. And repeatedly.
Very depressing.
I have lots of work to do.
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