Me and Mean Mr. C

If you don't want to read this, I totally understand...

Last October I posted an article relating to the fact that both my parents died of cancer during the 64th year of their lives. Now that I was in my own 64th year, I was more than a bit concerned. If you didn't see it, and want to see it now, here is a link. 

I scheduled an examination by just about every specialist I could think of. I'm very happy I did that, because I immediately found out I had aggressive prostate cancer, a pre-cancerous polyp in my colon, and ten pre-cancerous spots on my skin. The spots on my skin were frozen off, the polyp was removed, and my prostate was removed. Here is a link (if you haven't already seen it) to the post relating to the prostate procedure.

At this point I'm feeling good! Everything has been taken care of, and I'm out of the woods (relative to my 64th year).  At least that is what I thought at the time.

I recently went to a one year follow-up appointment with my dermatologist. I figured he'd give me a look over and that would be that. Nope! I hit the skin cancer trifecta.

1. Melanoma
2. Squamous Cell Carcinoma
3. Basal Cell Carcinoma

Melanoma - A mole on my back that had gone from "keeping an eye on it" to a moderately aggressive (as per a biopsy) early stage Melanoma in less than a year. It was dealt with first, because if ignored, it will eventually kill you. The procedure was done under local anesthesia. A pretty good chunk (15 stitches to close the incision) was taken out of my back and sent out for pathology. The results indicated that the margins were clear, and that was that. Two weeks later we dealt with number 2.

Squamous Cell Carcinoma - This was on the right side of my neck (photo below). There was nothing on the surface that would indicate anything. I asked him to look at it because the area got kind of red when I shaved, or scratched there. The biopsy he took came back positive for cancer. Squamous Cell is sometimes referred to as "head and neck" cancer. This is the one I was most worried about, because it doesn't have to travel far to get into the neck muscles and/or the lymphatic system.  This surgery was also done under local anesthesia. The procedure is called Mohs Surgery. They take out chunk of tissue around the biopsy spot, and then do "on the spot" pathology. If the margins come back clear, you're done and they close the incision. If it's not clear (meaning that it has spread) they take out more tissue in the direction the cancer cells were headed. The tech then does pathology on the margins of that piece. Once again, if the margins are clear, you're done. If not, more tissue has to come out. He had to do it four times before the margins were clear. He called it "chasing the cancer." The REALLY good thing is that it had spread quite a bit, but traveled down my neck, instead of deeper INTO it. It took a bit over 2 1/2 hours from start to finish. Lot's of stitches to close it up. Nine days later we dealt with number 3.

Basal Cell Carcinoma - This was on the left side of my neck. The surgery went pretty much the same as with the Squamous Cell cancer surgery. It only took two tries to get it all though. After the margins came back positive from the first try, I asked if he would just go ahead and take out a much bigger chunk out and hope for the best. He agreed, and it came back clean. He closed it up (also with a lot of stitches) and hopefully, I'm done with cancer. 

 Basal Cell before. The red spot is from the biopsy. There was no other indication at all.

 Basal Cell after. 

The stitches come out tomorrow. Geez, when did I become an old man?

Squamous Cell after

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1. Capillary Thyroid Carcinoma
2. Prostate Adeno Carcinoma
3. Basal Cell Carcinoma
4. Squamous Cell Carcinoma
5. Malignant Melanoma
6. Pre-Cancerous Polyp in colon
7. 10 Pre-Cancerous spots on my skin

        All in five years, and four of them in the last 10 months.

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I almost forgot to mention that the first thing I did was get a complete physical exam. Everything came out perfect. Contrary to the fact that I seem to get cancer, I'm really healthy. Vitals and blood test results were all fantastic. 

There is some good news.  I got a bit of a "neck lift" from the two surgeries!

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Part 2 - Adeno-Carcinoma of the Prostate

I walked into my initial visit with the urologist, thinking that it was only going to be a consultation. Based on my high PSA level, he advised that I should have a biopsy of my prostate done. I agreed, because I'd rather have a biopsy done and find out that everything was okay, than to not have one and find out later that it wasn't. Just to be sure, he wanted the PSA checked again. Then he told me to "drop trou" and turn around. We all know what happened next. Right?  He said it felt totally normal and that he wanted to do one more thing. That "thing" was to get a sample of the bacteria in the lower areas of my large intestine, using what looked like a large, long Q-tip. He explained that they get the biopsies by going through the intestinal wall directly into the prostate, and want to make sure that I'm already on appropriate antibiotics when the procedure is performed.  Oh joy of joys...

Ultrasound Assisted Needle Biopsies
I wasn't watching, but it felt like they drove a submarine up my bum and then fired torpedoes though the intestinal wall, into the prostate, and then retrieved the torpedoes. TWELVE times. Of course they were needles, not torpedoes, and each time they came back, they had a core sample of tissue. The submarine injected lidocaine first to deaden the area, but each biopsy still felt like a small bolt of lightning. Not much pain, but very uncomfortable.

Biopsy Results
Four of the twelve biopsy samples were malignant. They were all on one side, but both sides still had to go. Prostate cancer is rated (from five to ten) using a measurement called the Gleason Scale. Five is the least aggressive and ten is the most aggressive. Most of mine were in the middle, but unfortunately, two of them were aggressive.

Options
Do Nothing:
Prostate cancer is initially pretty slow growing, and if none of it is at the aggressive level (and subject to spreading), then it is fairly common to only monitor it while frequently checking your PSA.

Chemo:
Generally used if the cancer has metastasized (spread). Mine was advanced, but had not spread. Not for me.

Radiation:
The nerves and other items that control many of the body's functions either run through, or are immediately adjacent to the prostate. Radiation damages, and sometimes destroys them. Not for me.

Traditional Surgery:
Very invasive. Done either through the area from the navel to the groin, or in the "taint" area. Both surgeries are difficult, not easy to recover from, and have the potential of leaving you incontinent (both #1 and #2) and/or impotent.  NOT FOR ME!

Robotic Surgery:
The Da Vinci Robot is used for several types of surgeries now. It changes prostate surgery to something that is minimally invasive and totally eliminates even the tiniest tremors in a surgeon's hands. It seems like something that is totally science fiction. Here is a link to a video about the robot. If you are interested and have the time, check it out.

 This was the ONLY choice for me. Minimal, if any side affects. 

One night in the hospital, was all I needed. I had a follow-up appointment with the surgeon 10 days later. He told me to come back in three months. That was nice to hear, BUT the best news was that the 14 lymph nodes, bladder sample and assorted other bits and pieces of the margins he removed, were all biopsied, and all were NEGATIVE.  That means, no chemo, no radiation, no nothing! I've now dodged the big "C" bullet twice and am very thankful for it. My surgeon's name is Moses Kim. Another stroke of luck for me, because he is one of the pioneers and most respected surgeons performing surgery with the Da Vinci Robot.

There is clearly a lesson to be learned here...

 My PSA level was pretty high. I've had the PSA blood test done before and also the more traditional "digital" exam several times. Many doctors (and even some countries) don't believe that the PSA test is necessary unless there is some irregularity detected by the "digital" exam and/or some other indications. Both my doctor and surgeon said that my prostate felt normal during the traditional exam. Without the PSA test, I'd still be walking around with an aggressive cancer, that would eventually kill me.

If you are a male, or in a relationship with one, MAKE SURE that you/they get a PSA test done whenever they get a physical, or have blood work done. It could save your/their life.

For those of you who already know about what has been going on with me, I thank you for all the prayers and positive thoughts.   The next article you see here will be a normal one!



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An Interesting and Very Scary Thing Happened on the way to 65 - Part 1

I'm baaaaaack...

In nutshell (a darn big one), here is the primary reason that I haven't posted anything for several months. I don't usually publish personal stuff about myself here, but because of my long and unexplained absence, I feel compelled to do so.

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After battling lung cancer, breast cancer, and finally terminal brain cancer, my mom died in the 64th year of her life. 

My father had a couple of different cancers and ultimately died of throat cancer, this also occurred during his 64th year. 

I recently completed my 64th year and have to admit that I was a bit worried going into it. Being a proactive sort of person, I embarked on a grand tour of all the "specialists" I could think of. What follows is a list of them and what they found (also some conditions that I already knew about).

Rheumatologist (ongoing) - I've had a ton of injures and several broken bones in my life, so it's no surprise that I have arthritis in several places. I've yet to enter into any treatment yet.

Neurologist (ongoing and recent) - I have a herniated disc in my lower back at L5-S1. An update revealed that it has been made worse by the addition of several bone spurs in the area. Surgeries at L5/S1 are difficult, recovery is very painful, and they are usually at least partially, if not fully unsuccessful. In fact, sometimes the condition is worse afterwards. My surgeon (that did my earlier spinal surgery), is a great one, and he advises against having it. I agree. I have a pretty strong disposition and can tolerate and/or ignore a lot of pain. So far, I've pretty much learned to live with it (with no pain killers). 

Orthopedist (ongoing) - I've had a ruptured ACL in my right knee for a long time. I've just lived with it, but once again, I've grown some bone spurs in the area. As you know, I hike a lot and don't really allow it to slow me down much. 

Dermatologist (recent) - A top of head to tip of toe examination, resulted in him freezing 12 precancerous things off of me. 

Gastroenterologist (recent) - As recommended, I get a colonoscopy every 5 years. It has only been three years since my last one, but hey, it's my 64th year and my insurance will pay for it. He has found and snipped out a couple of polyps every time he's been "in there." The polyps have always been benign. NOT this time though. I had three of them and one was precancerous. 

Endocrinologist (ongoing) - As many of you know, I had thyroid cancer several years ago. Two surgeries later and my thyroid and related cancer was removed. The endocrinologist now monitors my blood and prescribes medication to keep me alive and functioning. A lab does a complete workup on my blood and this time it came up with an abnormally high PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen) reading. He strongly advised that I immediately contact a urologist. If you are so inclined, here is a link to post 1 of 4 relating to my thyroid cancer.

Urologist (recent) - My first visit to this specialist made the danger of my 64th year a reality. 

  

To be continued....

Don't worry, I'll be back to my regular posting afterwards!

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If Your Desk Looks Like This - You Might be A.D.D.

You've all seen the badge on the right hand side of my page, right? I joke quite a bit about being ADD in my posts. I really am ADD and I think this photo proves it. It was my desk at work, on a good day. Being ADD actually helped me a lot there, because I always had about 20 irons in the fire at the same time.  I am so glad that I retired!

Did You Wash Your Hands?

Just a short-one today...

I've spent a large chunk of time in places that either don't have outhouses and/or bathrooms, or maybe just have "vault" toilets. I'm sure you're asking yourself, "why in the world is he telling us that?"  I'm just giving you a little background info. Umkay?
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I spent a lot of my childhood at my grandma's house. It was actually more like a cabin. Not a mountain cabin, but a desert version. It was a very rustic place, but it did have an indoor bathroom and septic tank. Normally, that would be a great convenience, but we (me and my brother) were never allowed to use it during the day or evening hours, we could use it in the middle of the night, but only if we couldn't wait until morning. 

That means that ninety-nine percent of the time, we used the outhouse. Upon our return, there was never a single word said about washing our hands. However, on the rare occasion that we used the indoor bathroom (snow, rain, thunderstorms, etc). She ALWAYS asked if we had washed our hands. 

Is that more than a bit odd, or is it just me?

Alive and Kicking...

I'm sure that many of you have noticed my frequent references to A.D.D. Right?  Well, I really am wildly A.D.D. and it's been a problem for a long time. Probably most of my life. A couple of weeks before my last post and after about a thousand prods from one of our girls; I made an appointment with a psychiatrist (who in all likelihood, will read this blog post). After much talking and question answering, I was given a prescription and some hope.  

After a few days of taking the medication, I was AMAZED at how I felt.  I felt FOCUSED!  Focused like I've seldom been in many years. I have a list with about 100 things that I need to do to our house, yard, cars, etc.  A.D.D. people are great at making lists and I'm no exception. The problem is that very few items ever get crossed off the list!  I could start an item, but then get distracted (by nothing at all) and forget about what I was doing. The difference now, is that I'm not making a new list, I'm actually knocking things off the old one, right and left. 

Anyhow, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm doing well and I will be back soon.  I've even created some posts that are waiting to see the light of day. I haven't posted any of them because I just don't have the time yet to respond to comments or to visit any blogs myself. But I will!  

For those that have been with me for quite a while; the daughter that was prodding me was Ashley. Ashley, of the seemingly abandoned, yet amazing StupidGirls blog and her living and breathing Our Journey begins as the Kings blog.

Love you all, miss you all and I'll be back very soon. I promise!
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In the mean time, beware of the giant pelicans!

embiggen por favor...

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I'm in Isolation

That's right young lady!

A little sugar for Santa goes a long ways...

For those of you who have been around here for a while, you are well aware of my bout with thyroid cancer. For those of you who don't know... I had a couple of surgeries for it about three years ago and I'm hoping to get the all clear (as in cured) in about a week. 

• I had a thyrogen injection on Monday that cost $1,238.00
• I had a thyrogen injection on Tuesday that cost $1,238.00
• I took a single horse pill of radioactive iodine Wednesday that cost $5,000.00
• Wednesday, Thursday and part of Friday, I'm in isolation (cause I'm glowing)

Tomorrow, I spend about an hour under a gamma ray camera that looks for radioactive hot spots. This will be my third annual treatment and scan. If the scan doesn't unearth something (unearthly), I'll get my "cured of cancer" merit badge and be sent on my way.

The shots were easy, the pill was easy, the semi- isolation is easy. The hard part was the prep for it all.

For the last three weeks I've been on the strictest medical diet known to medicine and mankind (in my opinion anyway).  It ends today. I couldn't ingest any:

• Anything from the ocean
• Seaweed (it's in a high percentage of foods)
• Soy of any type (Soy is in more things than seaweed)
• Tofu (this one and the three before it kill me. My wife is Japanese)
• Sea salt
• Regular salt
• Restaurant food
• Fast food
• Water (distilled is okay, blek!)
• Soft drinks
• Processed food of any type
• Spices
• Herbs (other than fresh from my own garden, that I don't have)
• Bread (home baked only is okay. Yeah right!)
• ANYTHING with preservatives in it
• Beef
• Pork
• Cured or corned meats
• No snack foods like chips, etc.
• Dried fruit
• Chocolate
• Crackers
• Sweets

I can eat:

• Canned peaches, pears and pineapple
• Unsalted nuts
• Clear soft drinks
• Matzo crackers
• Plain rice cakes
• Redish vegtables
• Small amounts of fresh chicken or turkey
• Fruit

So between all this stuff, my new sister (yay!) and pre-Christmas stuff, I haven't posted in well over a week. As you know, that's a long time for me.  A couple of days after Christmas, my wife and I are taking off for our favorite mountain top for a couple of weeks. I'll let you know when the good news arrives.

Happy Holidays to everyone!


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You Just Can't Make This Stuff Up!

About 18 months ago I received a Facebook message from a lady who thought I might be an illegitimate member of their family. In fact, her family referred to me as "Uncle Pat." Here is my blog post relating to the incident.

A month or so ago (okay, it was October 27th to be exact),  I received a comment on that post, from a person who though she was my sister.  Okay, but I don't have any sisters! I didn't "approve" the comment to be published because there is too much personal information in it.  I did contact her though...

Quite a few of you have been following my blog for long enough to know that I am from the most dysfunctional of families. For those of you who don't know, this post is yet another entry into my crazy family history.  I have three brothers.  That's all...

Okay, so Christine and I exchanged several emails on the subject.

• She was adopted directly from the hospital she was born in (in my home town). 
• My mom had a friend with the same name as Christine's adoptive mother.
• She saw what she thought was the name of her birth mother when she was a teenager.
• She googled the name she saw (my mom's name) many times over the years with no hits.
• My mom's first name (and our last name) is very unusual.
• Two months ago she finally got a google hit on my mom's name.
• It led her to this post about her.

We emailed and we spoke. This was all adding up to her maybe being right.  I was fourteen the year Christine was born. You would think I would remember if my mom was pregnant at that time. I didn't. This wasn't a very good year in my life and I spent a lot of it "under the influence" of anything I could get my hands on. I even flunked 8th grade that year.

We met about three weeks ago and took a DNA test. We sent it to the lab and waited. Before they sent us the results of the test, they said they would call and let us know. After meeting her and talking to her several times, I was really hoping we were siblings. I have no negative history with her (as I do with my brothers) and she is VERY nice. I like her  a lot.

Today the lab called. Christine and I have the same mother!
See?  You Just Can't Make This Stuff Up!


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I Swear It Wasn't Me!

Those of you who have been reading my blog for a while already know that I’ve had a few scrapes with the authorities in my life. I PROMISE all of you that the six Orange County Sheriffs that were in my house this weekend with guns drawn, were not there because of anything I’ve done…

At 2:30 AM there were three of them, by 3:00, there were at least 10, by sunrise there were at least twenty! Most in uniform, some with assault rifles, detectives, crime scene types, suits, and blood hound handlers (with blood hounds). I just know our neighbors were wondering what the heck was going on!

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My wife had been babysitting for one of our daughters and got home at 2:15 am. There was a strange car sitting in our driveway.  We called the Sheriff’s Department to have it towed.  About the same time I noticed that there was a helicopter circling the area.  I told my wife to ask the dispatcher if there was something going on. Apparently there was and the Sheriffs were looking for a car (and the people in it).  Yep! It was the same car.

Plain clothes officers were looking for a bad guy who had several outstanding warrants for his arrest.  They had a tip relating to where he might be.  He and another person (wife maybe) did in fact show up. Apparently he didn’t want to go to jail; he resisted getting out of his car and the Sheriff Tased him. The idiot then floored his car and ran over the sheriff’s foot. 

You know how law enforcement is when one of their guys is attacked, wounded, or hurt.  So anyway, they came to our house to check out the car parked in our driveway.  BINGO!  The dispatcher called us back and told us to stay in the house while they looked around.  They didn’t find anything.  A couple more cars arrived and they started looking around the neighborhood. They were also knocking on doors and asking people if they were being held against their will.  One of them told us they were waiting for a bloodhound to try and pick up a trail. About 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door.  When I opened it, I was met by six cops with guns drawn. One of them asked me if we had searched our house.  After I told him we hadn’t, he said that when the bloodhound picked up a scent at the car he pulled his handler directly to our front door.  At a minimum, the bad guys tried the door.

Once the detectives had cleared the car, the bloodhound was allowed to go into it. When he got out, he started running down the street with his handler and about 10 cops in tow.  The guys must have run down a stairway that leads to the street below us and called someone to pick them up.  The cops were sure that is what happened, because the trail ended in the middle of the street.

All is well, that ends well!  The guys were caught about 3 hours later…

http://www.ocregister.com/news/deputies-297665-deputy-people.html

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A Piece of Plywood and an Apricot Tree

It wasn’t much of a tree house, but the time I spent in it, were some of the happiest hours of my entire childhood.

A found sheet of plywood, some 2x4's and a huge apricot tree in our side yard was all we needed. Kenny Meeks and I made a frame to fit the sheet of plywood and nailed it all together. We took half a day to wrestle it about 12 feet up into the tree. We found the perfect spot, it was level and the plywood was wedged solidly into place.

We could think of nothing better than to sit in the shade of our tree on a hot summer day and just talk away the hours. We escaped the violence and craziness of our family lives up there. We also escaped the glue we sniffed and the varnish and lacquer we huffed. Maybe best of all, we escaped the agony of growing up extremely poor in a middle class neighborhood.  For just a little while we could forget that we were the local area’s “white trash.” Not many kids had the guts to say it to our faces, but we knew what they thought.

We talked about anything and everything up there. We would sit and eat the plumpest and juiciest apricots I've ever seen.  It may have only been a tree that grew between the two shacks we lived in, but in that tree, relaxing in the shade, we could have been anywhere...

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Anger

I try to keep my anger sequestered from the rest of my life, as it is counterproductive to what I want to do and where I want to go. But some stuff just really gets to me.  Especially bullies and creeps who maltreat animals. 

My wife is very involved with dog and cat rescues and it kills me whenever the "latest" case of severe animal abuse comes to light. It makes my wife very sad, but it makes me want to hunt them down and and administer my own form of justice...

Is it just me?

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Menopause Just Might Kill Me

Sir Isaac Newton’s Third Law of Motion is, "To every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction."
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I'm married to a beautiful, funny and smart woman. Unfortunately for me, she is now going through menopause and has apparently lost her mind. Although I totally feel sorry for her, I'm pretty sure that her menopause might cause me to die of hypothermia or heat stroke I know that it will eventually pass.

What I’m about to say, is almost completely true...
When it's freezing in our house, she's burning up! We have to open the windows and/or turn on the air conditioning, even though it's the dead of winter. Most of you know where I live and I understand that "dead of winter" is a relative phrase. For those of you living in areas with "real' winter, I apologize!

On the other end of the spectrum…
If it’s mid-summer and about 85 degrees outside, she is usually wearing a parka it’s about 75 degrees inside. How is my wife feeling?

"I'm so cold!"
"Honey, it's 75 degrees in here!"
"I don't care, I'm freezing!"
"Put another coat on!" (notice I said another)
"I'm turning the heater on!"
"What?"
"It's much too hot in here already!"
"I don't care, I'm freezing!"

Last summer was one of the mildest on record where I live. I think it was August 15th, when I lost the tip of my nose to frostbite.

If I'd known it was catchy, I would have gotten a vaccine or something...
Or is it just me?


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Zero Defects

My recent posts have been bouncing between photos and poems. I figured it was time to work in some stories about my crazy and dysfunctional childhood.
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My mother was a pioneer in the field of "Zero Defects Quality Control."

I don’t remember ever seeing her cleaning house after my dad left (I was 5), we were given those assignments. She checked our completed work with the zeal of a newly promoted drill instructor.

Didn’t do a perfect job? Do it over. Still not perfect? Do it over again.  If she had the energy, she would keep it up all night. If she didn't have the energy, we'd have to redo the work and then wake her up, so she could hold yet another inspection. On a school night?  It just didn't matter to her, it could have been Christmas eve.

She didn’t just check out our work like a normal person. She of course, would check it out like a crazy person. She would even check the bottoms of the chair, table, and couch legs. There had better not be any lint or hairs on them at all. If there was, you know...Do it all again!

The exact same process was applied to doing dishes. The crazy lady would go through the drawers and cupboards to inspect every freaking piece of silverware and every dish.  They didn't just have to be perfectly clean, they had to be perfectly dry as well.  If she found a single speck of food, or dust, or a drop of water, we had to them ALL over again.

Somewhere along the line, we figured out that this wasn't really about doing the dishes, or cleaning the house. It was about control.  It became very apparent, when we couldn't find anything on the dish, or fork, or spoon, that made them still dirty.  When I spoke to other kids about chores, I realized that I lived on a different planet than most.

I lived on Planet Crazy...

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Another early post. This one had 4 comments (3 by family and friends).

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Coffin Full of Hate

Coffin full of hate
Coffin full of emptiness
You lived your life as a crucible
They all feel pain for you now
But they don’t know
Who you really were
I was there
When your spirit left
I felt it fly away
It blew through me
Like an ice cold wind

Casket borne
Peaceful now
They line up
To take a glimpse
I view you not the same as them
For I knew your pitiful walnut heart
And even if I must conceal it
They won’t catch me crying
Softness for you?
It need not seek haven in my heart
There’s no place for it

You hid your face
From all but me
Projecting a facade
For them to see

You are no more to me now
Than I was to you then
Nothing...

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another very old one...

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Ode to Rick Snow

Many years ago

In the back room

Of a nondescript

Downtown Long Beach

Second story walk-up

We are legless

Leaning on pillows

Scattered on a Persian rug

Water-pipe bubbling

Black light

Exploding colors

From Day-Glo posters

Twinkies and Orange Crush

Calling to us

Someone says
 "Rick, play that song!"

He laughs and says okay

For the fifth time that night

We listen to him play

And sing

"Here Comes the Sun"

All of us listening

All of us loving it
All of us with Chinese eyes

visit Rick Snow at REVERB NATION

click to hear (Brown Bottle Flu)

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Reluctant Patient

Many of you already know that my mom was an insane and brutal woman. She didn't really allow us to have a childhood. As a result, my teenage and early adult years were a disaster; numerous clashes with the law, drug and alcohol abuse and fighting.  I’ve gone through a ton of counseling and done the best I could to deal with my issues. I ended up loving therapy and all it did for me, but I didn't feel that way in the beginning…

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Reluctant Patient

You can shove

That box of tissues

Where even

Freud can’t find it

I won’t need them

I’m only here

Because the court

Said I had to be
And now you want

To try and save

Something

That shouldn’t be

And try to reach

The child within me

Or so you say

As you sit there

Looking at me

Over the top

Of those ridiculous glasses

Almost at the tip

Of your nose

You want me to talk

About it

But all I can do

Is smell the

Pain and anger
Of a thousand people

Soaked up

By the Wallpaper

And feel the humidity

From the weeping

Of the last person

Who sat in this tattered

Second hand store chair

During the previous hour

That of course

Wasn’t an hour

But only 50 minutes


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The Jordan H.S. Match Gun Incident

Thanks everyone for the great Christmas messages, posts and comments. I very much appreciate them all. Now it's time to share some more stories from my dysfunctional and crazy childhood. This one was posted shortly after I started my blog and I don't think anybody outside of my family read it and/or commented.  

There is a way to make a “match gun” using a wooden clothes pin and a rubber band. I don’t remember who taught me how to do it, but I experimented until it worked. It had to do with taking the clothespin apart and reassembling it backwards. The rubber band is there to hold one end of the clothes pin together. The match (a wooden kitchen type), lights as it is shot out of the clothespin by one end of the spring. I just found the above picture on the Internet, and it looks pretty close to the ones that we made. Yes, we were evil wicked children...

I don’t remember the exact year, but I think it was 6th grade. It was mid-summer and very hot. Kenny Meeks and I were walking down Myrtle Avenue in North Long Beach, along the backside of Jordan High School where the athletic fields are. We were having an ongoing “war” with our match guns, shooting them at each other. I suppose it could hurt if one hit you in the eye, but we were young and didn’t worry about it at all. I shot one at my friend and it zipped right by his head. We continued on our merry way until we noticed smoke coming from the area we just came from.

We hid our match guns and ran back to where the smoke was. I guess the match that whizzed by my friends head went through the fence and caught some grass on fire.  As we looked through the fence it was very obvious that it hadn't been watered all summer. It was brown and dry and starting to burn. The fence was too tall to climb over and there were no gates on that side of the school. There was only one option remaining and we took it. We ran! The hidden match guns were forgotten. What match guns anyway?

We ended up at our original destination which was the local junior high school to play bombardier in the gym. A few hours later we walked by the high school again on our return trip. A patch of grass about the size of half a football field was burnt. We couldn’t tell if a fire truck had been called to put it out or not, but because there was nobody in the area, we assumed the fire just burnt itself out.


Several years later I attended that high school. Every time I was in that area I thought about the fire and the match guns, and just how little supervision I had as a kid.  Of course with my mother, having little or no supervision was a good thing...

Foraminotomy, Laminotomy and Microdiscetomy

Foraminotomy is a surgical procedure performed to enlarge the passageway where a spinal nerve root exits the spinal canal.

Laminotomy is an open surgical procedure whereby a small opening into the spinal lamina is made and access to the spinal canal is created on the backside of the spine.

Microdiscetomy is the surgical removal of herniated disc material that presses on a nerve root or the spinal cord.
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You might be wondering why I'm posting this information.

Several years ago I was in a pretty bad auto accident. It caused the herniation of a couple of disks in my neck. As time has passed the vertebrae has grown new bone to make up for the missing disk tissue. As a result the seventh cervical vertebrae is putting quite a bit of pressure on my T1 nerve. This nerve runs along the upper back, goes through the shoulder, elbow, wrist, and ends in the two little fingers.

Whenever I look up and turn my head to the right, the nerve pinches. In the same order as above, all of those areas of my body feel like they've been stabbed with an ice pick. Then it all goes pins and needles. Not a good thing. Codeine and Lyrica work pretty well, but I've taken entirely too much of them.  Not a bad thing, if you don't mind being in a fuzzy state all the time. As you may or may not know, drugs played a major role in most of my younger days and I liked that "fuzzy state" a bit too much. So I stopped taking the medications a while back.  Pain or fuzzy? At this point, I've opted to live with the pain.

Living with the pain doesn't work either. So I'm going through with the surgery mentioned above. It's happening two days from now and when I wake up in the post-op room, I fully expect that the pain will be gone.  Depending on how it feels and how quickly I recover, will determine when I show my face here next. I'm hoping it will be just a couple of days.

I'm not worried about the surgery at all and I'm looking forward to the warm and toasty pre-op blanket!  Talk to you soon...

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Kindle - This is Not an Ad

Before I start, I'd like to make one thing very clear. I love books. I love reading them, I love looking at them, I love touching them, and I love collecting them.  Because of these things I've never been a fan of ebooks, or any of the new "readers." After I read a book, I want to keep it.

I have no idea how many books I've read in my life, but the number has to be in the thousands. Storing even a fraction of that number, requires a tremendous amount of room.  I didn't want to rent storage for them, so several years ago I started donating, or just giving them away to people that I knew would read them.   Of course there are some that I would NEVER part with.

A couple of months ago, I received a Kindle for my birthday. Much to my surprise, I fell in love with it. It's takes only a few seconds to download a book, the format is amazingly clear, and the darn thing holds about 3500 books!

Amazon.com has many of the classics in kindle format for free. I downloaded about 50 of them and am just about to dive in. I've read most of them before, but can't wait to get started anew. Depending on which model you buy, you can even go online and blog!

You can also use your Kindle to store all of your personal documents. They will format them for you for free and it only takes a minute or two.

If there is a book that I MUST have and it isn't available on kindle, I'm probably still going to buy it, but that will be the only reason. My sources tell me that it won't be very long before every new book will be available for download.  I was amazed to find out how many old books are already available.

If some of you now see me as a traitor, I'm sorry. For those of you currently working on books, I'll be supporting you via Kindle or paper, whatever it takes!

Do any of you have a Kindle or something like it?

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Neighborhood Nicknames

Do you have "names" for people in your neighborhood that you either don't know, or don't like? We do...

• Dysfunctional Family. This family lives behind us and down the hill.  They need full time therapy. All we know about them is the yelling, cursing, and cops.
• Cloppity House. The guy walked home drunk in the middle of the night with clogs on. His steps made a "cloppity" sound. This happened five years ago, but the name stuck.
• Yappity Dog House. These folks actually denied that their yappity dog barked all day while they were at work. Thank goodness they moved.
• Unfriendly House.  For reasons unknown to us, the wife in this house just flat out doesn't care for us. Although her husband seems to like us, when she's around, he pretends not to see us. Poor guy...
• Sliding Down The Hill House.  We live on the ridge line of a hill top. A house across and down from us a ways has slipped down the slope a bit. There is also a semi-wilderness trail that starts next to their house. (also known as "start of the trail house."
• Cooper House.  These people now rent the house from the "yappity dog" owners. They have a stupid dog that they can't control. All we've ever heard them say is "Cooper, Cooper!" The dog just won't shut up. You can't have a conversation with them because the dog won't stop barking at you. I told the lady yesterday that I give up...
• Start Of The Trail House (see "sliding down the hill house.")
• Cat Murderer House.  These cruel people have lost 3 cats to coyotes, but they keep getting new ones. Someday, there is going to be a confrontation between the two of us.

We  also have neighbors that we like and know by name, so not everybody gets a "nickname."

I'm sure our house is known as "the guy wearing pj's at noon on weekdays drinking beer in the back yard" house"



thanks to Bossy Betty (one of my favorites) for inspiring this post.