Yes...You Bet...

I am awake.

I am in hospital.

I am in pain.

I am aware.

I am anxious.

I have a mild fever.

I am medicated.

I am ready for a nap.

I am mystified as to why hospitals don’t sell health and beauty aids. I could sure use  nail clipper right now.

I'm amazed that it's 2015!

Still amazed.

*

Reprimands, Appointments, Arrogance

I’ve been reprimanded for using the word “burden” in the last post. I am sorry. This is so very hard for me and sometimes I fall back into the old thinking. Were I a caregiver I know how I would feel hearing that word, but it’s very difficult to project it onto others. I will make every attempt never to use it again. 

The appointment with the Orthopedist went well. Given that we were both awake and I was only slightly sedated we were able to rehash the events of Tuesday night. He’s really a nice (read handsome) man and over the past week had educated himself to my case.  He asked a few questions that had puzzled him, but all went well otherwise.

He set up an appointment for a CTScan for this Wednesday - conveniently after the Labs and the other Dr.s appointment at the Center. Even set it up at the Imaging Center next to the Cancer Center.  Couldn’t do better than that.

I’ve an appointment next Monday to meet with the other surgeon who will aid in the cutting up of my shoulder, removing the broken bits, and repairing any damage.  You know, a few years ago I would have cringed at talk like this, probably gotten physically ill, but now it’s like I’m just another piece of meat.  And believe me, that’s what I feel like.

The sling is to remain in place and the only exercises are to strengthen the hands, fingers, wrists. That’s OK with me, because gravity begins to set in after the sling has been off for a while and it feels like the shoulder is being drawn towards the floor. I purchased a rubber ball for the purpose of exercising and use it absently while reading. 

Finally made an appointment with the attorney to update the Will, etc. only to have her call last evening to cancel that one and try to finagle another one.  She got all huffy when I told her the suggested dates wouldn’t work for me (she actually sucked her teeth, you know, that “tch, tch” sound a few times) so I explained the situation - just like Vivian Leigh I am dependent on the kindness of strangers for things such as transportation these days.  

When I finally said I couldn’t understand the problem, that her office hours are supposed to be 8 am to 4 pm Monday through Friday, she really got pissed, almost to the point of raising her voice. So I gave her specific days and times that are usually convenient, told her to work around that, then call back so as to confirm something with my friends and driver. She was not amused.

As Archy would say: “People may think they amount to a great deal boss, but to a mosquito they’re just something to eat.”

I was exhausted and went to bed soon after. She is another one who used to be a friend in my previous life. So, there’s that.

I am amazed.

*

Tuesday Out and About.

Jeffrey was the chauffeur today. Linda had to open the restaurant while the Locosguys are in Mexico, and Nicole was buried in school work requiring peace and quiet for more concentration. It’s raining again, though not the nor’easter weather of last week. We ran the usual errands;  The credit union, dry cleaners, supermarket, and lunch were on the gay agenda as they were all skipped over last week.

An added stop at Staple’s made me wince. I am not a fan of the store or of colour Ink Jet Printers, but for reasons explained here about a year ago, I had to knuckle down and purchase a set.  Neither Canon nor Apple offered new drivers to support my old Laserjet printer.  Not to worry though, with the cash back bonus money accrued the printer cost about $18.00 USD. Now, if only the consumables  were as inexpensive it would be nice.  But, they’re not

Note: The full set of replacement cartridges cost more than the full price of the printer, so stop and think about that for a moment.  It’s cheaper to simply purchase a new printer (complete with a full set of carts) then give away, or chuck the old printer and move on. Sounds silly, doesn’t it?

I prefer laser printers - no muss or fuss - the toner is heat fused onto the paper and there’s no waiting for the ink to dry.  And the printed pages never smear, as a result, crisp, clean results every time. I don’t care about colour printing.  Does anyone care about colour printing in 2014?

Anyway, the ink carts needed replacing and I finally got around to doing that which left the empty, used cartridges with no home. It is now (apparently) a mortal sin to dispose of used carts in the garbage - they need to be recycled - and the only place around for recycling is Staples. So time was wasted as I waited for an employee (scarce even on a weekend and this is Tuesday) who could handle the situation.  There is no place to simply drop-off the used carts and be on your way.  Took nearly a half hour, but it is done.

We saved that chore for last so we could head directly to a restaurant for a quiet lunch. We chose “Go Brit!” for authentic fish & chips, bangers & mash, and a pint of Guinness. The place was quiet and the food light, fresh, and heavenly. No

greasy stuff here. Our server, Andrew, also works at DL but since’s he’s off on Sundays I didn’t get a chance to see him on the weekend. Not being busy was bad for his daily tips, but it gave us an opportunity to chat and catch up.

Seems Andrew is preparing for a trip to St. Petersburg, Russia.  Why in the winter, I don’t know. Why anytime given the current political climate, I cannot imagine.  But, he’s anxious and took off for DC yesterday to pick up his visa to prove it. He’s young, single, has traveled extensively, and knows how to do it on the cheap.  He has a great experiences no matter where he goes.

OK, so I lied.  As we were heading to my place after lunch, Jeffrey convinced me to stop and purchase a couple of cotton flannel shirts, as he had a few weeks ago.  He raved about them, suggested that the cold was going to be upon us very soon and I would be glad for them. We took ourselves to Eddie Bauer where there was still a good selection. We were shocked to find such a huge selection, especially after Black Friday and the holiday weekend. But, you won’t hear me complain. 

Because of the major weight loss it was tough to decide size, so I tried one on.  My stars! It was the softest cotton and most comfortable next to the skin.  I purchased 2 size Large (100% cotton, they always shrink a little) JIC I suddenly break out in fat or something - and headed for home. 

We covered a lot of territory a few hours. I got tired and wobbly, and the swelling caused some discomfort until I lie down and propped them up. With the aid of painkillers the pain let up after a brief time, but the swelling remains for hours. Believe it or not, Benadryl helps.

Linda just called to remind me that she’ll pick me up at 5 pm to view the Rehoboth Christmas Parade this evening at 6 pm from the restaurant. I had completely forgotten that is tonight. I am thrilled, not having seen the parade in 3 years it ought to be fun. If the rain doesn’t cancel it out at the last minute.  

So, another outing and I get to see Linda and Andrew (he works tonight) and perhaps a few more customers I’ve not seen in many moons.  At any rate, I don’t have to worry about cooking supper. I’m sure Linda will make sure I am well taken care of. I remain uneasy at being spoiled like this. 

I am amazed.

*

A Magical Monday

No one was prepared for the shock of 75’F and clear skies that blessed us here at the shore on first of December. I thought about sitting on the top step of the landing to soak in the warmth and fresh air coming in off the Atlantic, prepared to spend most of the day in bed reading, as usual.

All that changed with a text message from Linda asking if I’d like to join her for an ice cream cone and walk on the boardwalk in the afternoon. Of course, I jumped at the chance. It might be just the thing to help the swelling in the feet and legs.

When she finished her catch-up work at the restaurant, she picked me up and off we went. First we took a drive to the liquor store so she could replenish her supply of beers and wines depleted during her time in Ireland. She found a new Icelandic brew that had been raved about, so she bought a 6-pack of each of the three different flavors offered by the company, which is new to the US. 

We drove back into town and found a parking spot close to the boardwalk. The jacket I brought JIC it was cooler near the ocean remained in the car. It was a magnificent afternoon and we ran into people we knew from around town and the restaurant who had the same idea. Many were surprised to see me, others surprised to see us together.

Preparations were underway for the annual AIDS Day candlelight march and service of remembrance to be held in the evening.  I was more grateful for the nice weather because for the past 3 years, the weather has been cold and rainy, or cold and windy, making for an uncomfortable experience and a lower turnout than usual.

Initially, the walk was painful aggravating due to swelling in the feet as well as ankles and calves, but that soon faded, became easier and my gait more steady. However, having walked about 5 blocks on the boards, Linda thought it wise that we share a bench, rest, watch and listen to the ocean. It was a little piece of heaven. I soon realized that this walk was Linda's plan to get me to exercise more as well as get out of the house.  Her plan worked on both fronts. Bless her.

I determined I’d walked far enough for one outing, so we returned to the car and drove back to the restaurant. The shifts were just changing, it was about 4:30 by then, so I joined the crew in a Golden Margarita, sat and enjoyed being out for the second day in a row.  Especially in such weather, which was quite a gift for December 1, in any case.

I was getting tired and hungry, so Nicole made up a Bison burger with sautéed onion rings to go, for me. Jeffrey saw me home and it felt odd not to experience leg pain for the first time in months - even walking up the stairs.

The bison burger was delicious. I washed it down with an English Ginger Beer Linda brought back from Ireland. All was right with the world. 

Interesting to note that I woke this morning a little sore in the ankles, but less swelling.  We’ll see how long that lasts. Jeffrey is picking me up shortly to run a few errands that were put off from last week, so we’re likely to stop off for breakfast, or lunch - depending on how long our journey takes.  Either way, it will be fun, and a third day out of the apartment, little worse for wear.

I am amazed.

*

Apartment Search Continues

I came upon a listing for a rental nearby on the ground level with off-street parking.  As I’ve mentioned before, it’s slim pickings out there. Only a few things wrong with it. Rent is more than I can afford, even if only $25. more. It is a 2-bedroom mobile home, I only need one bedroom. That’s quite a large space to heat with the winter ahead and I don’t know how well insulated the place is. With the compromised immune system, sensitivity to heat and cold is more pronounced. 

The other monthly expenses include water, sewer, and trash pickup. I already pay for electricity so that’s not an extra burden in itself, unless the heating system in the place is also electric. Then it could be a killer.  I know.  From the published image above the place looks clean and neat, well kept.  Yes, but at what expense?

The other issues include snow and ice removal - can’t do that myself - and the Verizon telephone and DSL wiring infrastructure is very old, so I may not have high speed access to the Net. This was a problem when I lived in that area about 6 years ago.  When it rained, snowed, or flooded the phone lines went down - sometimes for days until things dried out and techs could work on restoring service.

At any rate, I’ve called and left a message requesting the approximate cost of each of the added expenses above. I have little hope that everything will be within my budget. Even less hope that I’ll find something affordable and livable any time soon. My hope is to continue to gain strength and weight, get through the dizziness balance issues, navigate the stairs more than once rail, and drive my own car again. 

I am amazed.

*

Support Courage Campaign Institute - Shop Amazon

This only just arrived via email and since I do a lot of shopping at Amazon I think it's a great idea to help support the CCI. A worthwhile, progressive organization.

I don't give to charities much anymore. I give to St. Jude's Children's Hospital and The Ali Forney Centers and they are the only ones to get any cash. I find most others too wasteful for my taste.

Before I hear the Amazon complaints I'll just say that I shop with Amazon, not only for the prices and service, but because there are no viable brick and mortar stores within 50 miles of where I live and I will not shop at Wal*Mart.  There are other fave go-to-spots for specific items on the Interwebs, but in general Amazon covers the other bases.

Shopping local is my first priority, even if the price is a bit higher, but driving 50 or 80 miles to Malls is out of the question.  If I find it at Amazon (I'm already a Prime Member for books & movies) and two-day shipping is free, that's where I'll get what I need.

So, if you're not in the mood to hassle the long drive, or brave the crazies at the Malls, check out Amazon for just about anything and everything (I've learned this over the years) and get it within 3 to 5 days - 2-day free shipping if you're a Prime member. Make sure your purchase is eligible for the donation.

Here's the email:
*

Dear Friend, At Courage, we hope that you support and shop at small businesses. But if you're planning to use Amazon.com for your holiday purchases and beyond, please use AmazonSmile -- a program that allows small, non-profit organizations LIKE COURAGE CAMPAIGN to raise money from Amazon purchases. At no cost to you, Amazon will donate a .5% of the price to Courage Campaign for every eligible purchase you make! So why not get some of your holiday shopping done WHILE supporting a good cause? CLICK HERE to support our progressive campaigns while shopping on Amazon. You can keep doing this all through 2015! Want to make it easy to use our AmazonSmile link in the future? Bookmark this link and save it as ‘Amazon.’ It's a simple and automatic way to support Courage Campaign every time you shop at Amazon. With your purchases, you'll be helping Courage continue to fight for progressive values, equality, justice, and accountability for politicians and corporations, while training and organizing activists to change their communities. And to top it off, the AmazonSmile Foundation will donate an extra $5 to Courage Campaign for each customer who makes an eligible purchase using this link, so get shopping! Thank you for your support and Happy Holidays! Paul, along with Annie, Eddie, Laura, Lindsay, Michael, Scottie, and Tim (the Courage team)

Courage Campaign fights for a more progressive California and country. We are an online community powered by more than 900,000 members. The Courage Campaign Institute is the educational arm of the Courage Campaign family of organizations. Our mission is to defend and extend human rights through innovative leadership development, training, strategic research, and public education. http://www.couragecampaign.org?akid=1373.654996.Ur-96Q

Throwback Thursday: Rehoboth Beach

Rehoboth Beach Boardwalk, Spring/Summer of 1992. The year the first townhome was purchased as a summer rental and 3-season get-a-way.

Rehoboth: North Shores - Whiskey Beach, 1992. Mostly gay folks with and without kids. No tourists. Not crowded and before the era of cell phones - quiet. No snack bar so you brought your own and carried your refuse out of the park with you.

More later.
*

Life and Death are Simply Wearing Me Out!

Things on the apartment search are moving quickly, too quickly to keep up with. Two of the

apartments found on Craigslist have already been taken, am waiting to hear about 2 others. Learned that moving in with someone with pets would be borderline acceptable.  No cats, birds, ferrets, etc.  Only dogs that are primarily indoor pets, are clean, will stay off my bed, etc., will be considered

Another evaluation by the PT folks today, one more tomorrow, and now they’re talking about allowing me to return to my 2nd. floor apartment temporarily as I continue to search for one on the ground level.

The catch is that I’d be allowed up and down the stairs once daily and my occupational therapy would be limited.  Though in what ways I do not know.

My case manager is doing her damnedest to keep me in the medicaid link so that I am eligible for additional long term home health aid. She spent half her day on the phone on my behalf today.  Every time I see her my personal file, usually tucked under her arm, gets thicker and thicker. 

Medicaid sent a 1/4 inch thick survey/questionnaire to Linda that she was supposed to complete and return before this weekend. Problem is that she has no access to most of the requested documents while most of other info seems to have nothing to do with her role as my POA.  Gave it all to the Case Manager, Suzanne today. She didn’t bat an eyelash. I would have been bonkers in that situation. 

If I am released from here soon, the first thing on my gay agenda is updating, sorting, and reformatting all the medical documents, then put them all in one easy-to-reach place for quick access. 

The second thing is to prepare the paperwork to make Linda the Executor of my estate. I thought that was one of the documents we took care of 3 weeks ago, but that wasn’t the case. POA ends when my life does.  Clearly, that’s not good enough.

Gather more data about assisted living opportunities and their costs.  Seems this is one of those loose ended gambits that varies from state to state, usually with the person needing assisted living getting virtually fucked (and not in a nice way) due to loopholes and financial shell games.

A new Cell Phone Carrier.  If this current experience has shown me anything it’s that good cell coverage is important in critical situations like this. I need a more reliable carrier and I find that Verizon is the best around.   Though their level of suckitude is beyond measure, they do have to most reliable network around here. Granted, I’ll be paying over half again what I’m paying now, but what I am paying didn’t produce a signal or wifi for texting. Time to bite the bullet.

Probably the most pressing issue about being back in my own space is the inability to clean, do laundry, mop, dust, scrub, change sheets, etc., on my own. I know it will be almost impossible now, but Linda has told me not to worry. If the Home Health person doesn’t do it, she will see that it gets done, somehow.

Having been laid up for a month I have no idea what I can and cannot do for myself anymore or how much stamina I will have when sprung initially.  Still, Linda says I am not to worry.  So I won’t worry. Well, maybe just a little.

There were two huge dark chocolate bars waiting for me when I woke up this morning. No note or card. Just one 60% cacao and the other 85% - 100 grams each.The have to be from one of the nurses, but from the night crew from last evening or someone from the day crew today. And, no one will tell me.

I’ll find out sooner or later - or not. Meanwhile I will enjoy the chocolate and thank the Universe that such a kind person thought of me.

And so it goes.

*

Free Day

For the first time in recent memory I actually slept in until 11 am today.  Unheard-of for me. Had made a couple of lists of possible things to do and places to visit, but ultimately, following a brief time on the beach as people enjoyed lunch on the benches by the ocean, I returned to the apartment, read a few blogs, ran a load of laundry, and found yet another box of sweaters in the deepest recesses of the closet. (Maybe if I keep going back I'll eventually be welcomed to Narnia.) These were vacuum-sealed many years a go, so I don’t know what to expect. 

I’ll break the seal and let them expand overnight. I have no idea what to expect or what sweaters these might be. Meanwhile, I’ve been thinking about a new book to read. Finished the London Blitz Diary last night.  Quite good, that. Yes, I know we were subjected to quite severe rationing in this country, but at least we weren’t bombed daily or nightly for over a year.  I don’t know how they remained calm, let alone sane, when at any moment your home could be brought down upon your head.

There are a few other books waiting in the wings: the 2nd. in The Magicians trilogy, a diary of a road trip through India, another historic novel of the year leading to the Civil War 1860-61, and a bio of Nikola Tesla. 

I don’t know which I will begin this evening, but it will likely be one of these. Unless they fail to turn me on, then it’s time for an online search. I am always tempted to re-read something from my past to see if it holds up.  Usually it does, but I’m hoping to discover new writers who give me characters I can identify with and writing that holds my attention.

The body is sore from neck to thighs, but feeling rested, and the quiet is good for me today. It looks like the pre-school has moved out, so that’s another plus. No squealing kiddies to annoy the neighbors, or myself.  A very good thing, if it remains true.

I think I’ll indulge myself this evening with a Sazerac cocktail before supper. I can’t remember the last time I had one - maybe it was on the NOLA trip a year ago this week. That ought to make a difference in my soreness and level of pain.

And so it goes.

Chemo, Crisis, Happy Hour & The Cloud

Third day of the final 7 for this cycle of Chemo and it’s another whole new

misadventure. Rash has returned to the arms, hands and wrists are swollen to double their normal size, and skin is flaking off of my body - everywhere. Charming, no?

Mini-crisis yesterday when I spiked a fever before the Chemo injections.  Temperature had to be brought down before the OK was given to go ahead. Took about 1.5 hours.  Like, forever!

This meant that Happy Hour with Sasha was  postponed until today.  And it worked out well for us both. Since we were both out on the road and out of town, it was easy to text and coordinate times for the meet up and cocktails. We settled on FINS, one of the restaurants that also has a place in town, but same owners, staff, chefs, etc. Sasha was a few minutes late, having to pick up one of his sons at Day Care, and return him home.

We made up for lost time quickly. He had lots to talk about and I was happy to listen. Not much for me to share except for the daily adventures in medical care and that’s just way too repetitious. We caught up on everything possible, the summer season, customers who still ask for me, and his concern for my health, while knocking back HH drink specials, chowing down on fresh, hot & spicy boiled shrimp, oysters, and fish and chips. 

We stayed way beyond HH, but the barman charged us at the HH prices for our extra drinks.  Nice gesture. Although we didn’t know them by name, the bar staff knew us from the business, too and treated us very well.

One barman tagged me as gay and so when Sasha arrived assumed we were a couple.  After 2 drinks Sasha started playing along. This particular barman was not amused and began to ignore us until one of the other guys set him straight - so to speak. It was funny really, because Sasha gave me a big hug before we left the pub, then another one outside the front door.  He said, let’s fuck with his homophobic head, shall we? As we parted, he kissed me on both cheeks, then the mouth.  What can I say…he’s Russian!!!

He’s taking his lovely wife out to dinner for her birthday tonight to a favorite restaurant from when they were dating - before marriage and the boys. It’s to be a surprise and our little get together was a great way to throw her off any scent she may have had about his plans. 

Sasha is not yet 30 and an incurable romantic. He loves his wife very much and it’s a joy to watch them when they’re together in public. Very low key, but very devoted to one another. 

Needless to say the bar food was more than enough for me - more than I’ve had at one sitting in a while, but it was so good to be with my friend, laughing, drinking, eating, and trading stories that I’ll sleep well tonight.

Now if only the itching and swelling would disappear life would be very good indeed.  

Bother!  I’ve supposedly downloaded the new (free) U2 album from iTunes, but I  can’t find it. I don’t know how to use the damned cloud and there is no button on the page to offer guidance. Another one of those “Apple is so simple, it’s right in front of your face, but you don’t see it” kind of things.

In all fairness to myself, I have never downloaded music from iTunes. Only copied my own music CDs into the program then shared with the phone and iPod.  And this content resides on the hard drive, not the cloud. No idea where to start looking. Sigh.

And so it goes.

 *

Sunrise, Summer’s Return, and Slow DSL.

Still fighting this upper respiratory infection and occasional elevated temperature, but after spending all of Thursday & Friday cooped up behind

closed doors, Neupogen shots and medicating as prescribed, I had to bust out.

Watching the sunrise always lifts me up and although it was still cloudy from the overnight storms, it made for a magnificent show off the east coast over the Atlantic. There were few people around, a few folks in slickers walking their dogs, some cyclists and a runner or two. The die-hards!

I sat in peace and enjoyed my iced coffee just happy to be out and among the living. I walked the entire length of the boardwalk (a mile) before heading back home.  It was getting hotter by the minute making it difficult to breathe. It began to sprinkle again, as another storm was on the way. 

As I arrived, Verizon trucks were parking up and down the street.  They’ve been doing lots of work in town, especially, improving and updating wiring in the old bungalows on streets like mine. Since I’ve been having speed issues with my DSL lately, I stopped a friendly looking chap and asked if their work could be causing interference with my upload and download speeds. 

The look on his face said it all, but he regurgitated the company line about speeds varying due to traffic, the plan you have and blah, blah, blah. He did affirm that my phone service had probably been disrupted over the last month or two(which would disrupt the DSL as well), and that I should call the business office to file a complaint;  there may be some compensation for my being inconvenienced. I thought I’d been promised this already, but have not seen proof on the monthly statements.

The fact that they’re working on a weekend was surprising, but the weather has been stormy and hot,  I assume they are on some sort of schedule to get the job finished.

The work being done here is wiring many older homes for the first time for high speed and television services. Many of the bungalows have been sold or changed hands within families and they want to have all the channels of the stoopid available here that they’re running away from at home.  Makes perfect sense.  Not!

There is a lot of infrastructure work to be done and Verizon’s man said they’d likely to be in the area into the next month or more. So, I can look forward to more disruptions in both phone and internet service for a while.  

We pay the highest prices for the poorest quality service in the western world and there’s no end in sight. And the whole idea of bundling all services into a single package with one company seems absolutely insane to me, especially after the Comcast fiasco of a few weeks ago when a few thousand customers lost all services for a few days.  This is 2014 and there is no reason for that to happen outside of a natural disaster. 

Lungs refreshed, filled with good salt air, I opened the windows again for a few hours to do the same for the apartment. Until the heat became too oppressive. Feeling energetic, I made a warm potato salad, one of friend Peter’s great recipes, and enjoyed it with my lunch.

The cough remains annoying and I am tired now.  A good kind of tired. For what it’s worth, I found out the world is still out there, as is the ocean, and I can rest easy this evening. 

And so it goes.

*

All Over, But The Happy Hour Lingered

I was correct in assuming, by the obvious evidence, dear Dr. Watson, that the holiday makers began leaving the beach Saturday night or Sunday morning. Turned out the forecast update (yet again) called for showers Sunday night and Monday all day.

The place was a ghost town by Monday afternoon. The showers dried up by late afternoon and by the time I got the call that my ride was on her way, the sky was clear.  The clear sky didn’t reduce the humidity however, as we met up with the group at Stoney Lonen. It was clear that the season was over.

A large sign greeted us at the front door - “Irish Sunscreen: Join us in the Pub.” I hope I don’t have to explain this one.

When I walked in Chester looked me over in the kilt and said, “properly dressed, I see.  And what kind of sunscreen will you be drinking?” We all had a good laugh and settled in. 

Another guy arrived in a kilt and we acknowledged each other and smiled.  A while later a drink appeared before me and from the other end of the bar there was an arm with a glass raised. The toast of “Slainte” echoed through the bar. Well, Linda was in heaven, and the others in our group stopped making silly jokes about the kilt and you know, like wearing frilly knickers!!!

We knocked back Bangers & Mash, Irish Nachos (large roasted potato wedges covered in melted cheese, double cream and diced tomatoes), Irish Onion Rings and shrimp, of course. I downed 2 pints of Guinness  - Chester doing a proper Irish pour all the way. 

I sent my kilted friend a drink a little later on, and the same thing happened all over again. “Slainte” What great fun.  By now Brian, the owner, having complimented me on my attire is hanging out and complaining about being in the kitchen rather than in his kilt. 

This was interesting because my early kilt days were in a mostly gay environment. This was none of that, but more. A few guys - young and older - asked questions and showed genuine interest in getting a kilt of their own. One guy especially liked the kilt pin, so I shared its story with him, too. There is a sense of freedom and camaraderie that goes along with wearing a kilt, and it has nothing to do with being surrounded by gay men. Very interesting, indeed.

It was time for Linda to introduce me to another new cocktail; this one very popular in Ireland this year. I don’t remember if there is a proper name for it, but Linda referred to it as an Irish Whiskey Black Russian.  Yes, I know.  Confusing.  But the taste was unusual, engaging, and well, different.  All in a good way. 

Now that the season is over most everyone is planning a holiday somewhere on the planet. Frank is going to Key West, Andrew is heading for St. Petersburg Russia, others are heading to California and Canada, and Linda will spend a 2 weeks in Ireland with her family in a few weeks time. All their plans sound so wonderful and they deserve the break after the busy season here. 

As we were about to leave the kilt-clad gentleman came by to shake hands and one of our group made an embarrassing mistake. He asked what was under the kilt. The gentleman smiled at me and I beckoned him to continue. You can imagine how often that stupid question is asked. My new friend smiled, took the open hand of the questioner and held it up. A deadpan expression.

“It is said that the difference between a kilt and a skirt is undergarments. If you wear undergarments in a normal situation, you’re wearing a skirt. If not, you’re wearing a kilt. Now, do you want to find out which it is that I wear this day?” The entire bar let out a “Whoop!” Then the applause. My friend disengaged his hand from the other and offered a goofy smile in return. Some people just never learn.

With 2 pints, 2 shots and 2 Irish Black Russians under my belt doing their thing with the sausages, shrimp and other goodies, we were about pooped out.  There were dogs to be walked and some semblance of normalcy to restore to the lives of these people. 

I was dropped off at home feeling happier than I have in a while.  Since the last HH party, in fact.  With everyone going separate ways I think it may be a while before the tribe meets up again, but that’s fine. I have a lot to remember, relive, and make me smile.

And so it goes.

*

Somehow, I Made it!

It all went smoother than I could have hoped. After e-mailing the family about my needs concerning this baseball game, I felt more comfortable. They covered all the bases. Sorry for the sports metaphor.  

Got the shot this morning and returned home. Family picked me up at 9:30 - our young athlete was already at the field - and the family was considerate enough to find a seating area where the morning sun would be blocked out by the surrounding trees.

When Zack saw me he broke into a smile that could encompass the Universe.  I had no idea that it was so important that I be present.  I am so glad I made the effort and was there for him.

Great. I still don’t know what I watched, but mimicked what the other family members did and nodded when tossed a verbal aside now and then, to fill me in on what I still don’t understand.

Both teams played well, as I understand it, and Zack’s team won the day. And in a scary moment when he was finally off the field and ready to leave, he threw his arms around me and said, “We won ‘cause you could be here with us.  You’re going to get better now.” 

 I. Almost. Lost. It.

After some back and forth it was decided that I needed my rest and couldn’t join in the post-game fun, so I was dropped off at the apartment.  Before I knew it Zack was out of the van and giving me a big bear hug and thanking me under his breath for not failing him; that we’d celebrate future triumphs together and we’d see one another soon.

I don’t know what he sees in me but whatever is good for him matters to me. And that’s that. His parents are the best and are well aware of the situation. Zack’s girlfriend also approves.

Still have a slight fever and feeling congested, so I am going to bed now.

And so it goes.

*

Of Kilt Pins, Festive Burgers, & Donated Clothing

I’ve been searching for a new kilt pin, since mine was taken by my Ex during the settlement years ago and only recently noticed. (Read previous posts to catch up.)  Anyway, I had no luck hunting one down locally, so I took to the Net to see what I could find. 

Don't strain. It is from USAkilts.com

I was on Chemo at the time, so the brain fog was ever present.  I had no trouble finding kilt pins, but most depicted swords, lions, and various reminders of wars, violent times in the Scottish/Irish past. I’m a non-violent person so swords were not going to do it for me.

I found few that were unique, including a round one that was stunning, but way too expensive for what I wanted to pay for a pin. There was this pewter one (pictured above) of a graceful, elongated Celtic design that caught my eye, so I bookmarked the page for later reference, otherwise in brain fog state, I’d never find it again. It’s a beautiful piece, really.

Fast-forward to the past week. I arrived home from treatment to find a package in the mailbox. It turned out to be this very pin, so I thought I had gone ahead and ordered it - just didn’t remember - and left it at that until 2 days later when I hunted for the invoice/packing slip to find out what credit card it was charged to. I discovered that it was a gift. I hadn’t purchased it after all.

This took a while to filter through the windswept void that is my brain anymore. It was a gift from a blog buddy and regular commenter, Calvin, who has given me permission to thank him publicly. Fortunately for me, his personal info was included on the invoice, so I sent an email thanking him properly.  What a happy surprise and coincidence that he liked the same pin. It will be worn proudly and the story behind it will be told many times over again. 

Thanks again, Calvin. The sun shines a little brighter thanks to your generosity and kindness.

Thank you to all who hoped that burger the other night would measure up to my expectations. It did. It was well worth waiting for.  Since I can’t have fresh veggies, I missed the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions, but it was almost perfect without them, anyway. As I said, "almost".

I usually buy 85%-15% lean beef (you need that little bit of fat) then add seasonings. Fresh minced parsley (Italian flat is better than curled), crushed garlic, onion powder, salt, black & white peppers, and Lea & Perrins. Knead it all by hand until everything is evenly distributed and mixed well, cover, refrigerate, and let it marinate at least a couple of hours. Form into patties, wrap tightly in plastic wrap then waxed paper and freeze.  All of course, except for the one to be consumed that evening. Heaven!

Summer heat and humidity have returned, so I’ve spent today getting another batch of clothing ready for the Thrift Store. Items are piled high all over the living room sofa and chair. I won’t put them into bags until I’m ready to deliver so there will be no - or limited - need for ironing. I can actually see the closet floor in some places, and when the sweaters are gone I’ll have plenty of room. I'm thinking bowling alley or Cinerama Theatre.

Tomorrow begins the last hoo-rah, the last gasp of the summer of 2014, and, unfortunately, I have to be out and in it.  Prescriptions are a damned nuisance any time, but having to pick them up on a holiday weekend is evil. Pure evil! I’ll be out of here as early as possible, get the scrips as soon as the pharmacists arrive, and back home ASAP.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate drugs?  I hate drugs.

My Kilt pin however, is beautiful. I am definitely going to wear it to the Stoney Lonen party on Monday evening. 

And so it goes.

* 

Confusion, Consolidation, Consolation

After some initial confusion about my appointment schedule - that took a half hour to correct - I finally saw the doctor. His attitude was upbeat and contagious. He immediately detected my anxiety and asked if I wanted a higher dosage of the anxiety med; he thought it would help. I agreed to give it a shot.

The white cells are very low which is why I have that big purple blotch on  my face.  It’s a bruise. I must have hit myself as I tossed and turned sometime overnight. It’s not KS after all. That’s a relief.

I was to begin the 4th and final cycle of Chemo next Tuesday, but he wants to put it off another week to see how my body recovers on its own. Especially with the holiday, I’d get only 4 treatments in before the next weekend then have 3 more days to follow up. He thought the interval was too long.  So instead of starting on 2 September, I will begin again on 8 September, if necessary. I hope it isn’t. But, it is what it is.

Also, since I’ve got one more Neupogen injection tomorrow, he scheduled a unit of whole blood to carry me through the holiday weekend. The whole blood along with the Neupogen shots should give my immune system the needed  boost to play catchup, if it is ever going to do that.

He mentioned a possible evaluation of my situation at Sloan Kettering on the upper east side of NYC. Seems they’re the only independent CC doing studies related to my particular cancer.  The research nurse learned of the study, is checking into the possibilities, and will let me know. 

There’s no easy way to get to NYC from here, so it would probably turn into a 3 day affair, unless I can find someone to take me to the Amtrak station in Wilmington and bring me back home. The doctor would prefer that someone was with me just in case, but that’s not going to happen. There just isn’t anyone.

Anyway, living in the present, with the Neupogen shots and the additional blood transfusion I should be good to go for the holiday weekend. No, I won’t be stupid enough to go out into large crowds, but I will be at the post-Labor Day party on Monday afternoon at Stoney Lonen. 

I promise to try and stay away from anybody hacking or coughing. No, I will not wear a mask. Linda will make sure my immune system is protected with shots of Jameson’s Irish Whiskey, or whatever else Chester has up his mixologist sleeve.

I bought some naked ground beef and plan to spice and herb it up, form it into patties, have a hamburger for supper tonight, and freeze the rest. It’s been a while since I’ve had a real beef burger. I haven’t got much of an appetite and no sense of taste, but maybe my taste-memory will kick in and make the meal enjoyable. May it be so.

And so it goes.

*

Accidents & Anxious Monday

There were 3 multi-vehicle accidents between my place and the Center yesterday. The first before I even got out of town, at the infamous circle that drivers don’t know how to navigate. (Neighboring states have different rules applying to circles.) This only added to my anxiety because the next one on the highway looked really bad. Vehicle parts strewn across the roadway and a makeshift triage on the shoulder grassy area.

I was almost broadsided by a dumpster truck that decided to make a U-turn where there isn’t one. I hit the brakes, steered out of his way, and he shot ME the bird. I was near combustion at that point. 

My anxiety level was already elevated having noticed something had sprouted overnight. A rather large lesion, about the size of a quarter between the lip and chin on the right side of my face. It is dark purple, doesn’t hurt, itch, or anything. It’s quite flat.  Looks like someone socked me in the face.

It’s scary, reminding me a little like KS. After years as a buddy in the 80s, I saw a lot of those monsters devour faces, feet, and hands. Back then there wasn’t much in the way of treatments since up until the AIDS pandemic, it had been a rare cancer usually limited to the elderly. Well, I guess I qualify for that status nowadays. And with the Chemo treatments, a whole Pandora’s Box of possible infections has probably been unleashed in my body.

There are new treatments, including radiation, and even a topical protocol that can help. I read more about it before heading to the Center for the Labs. 

The nurses wouldn’t comment on it, so I didn’t push the issue.   I knew I’d be seeing the doctor later today, so I waited.

The bad news is my neutrophil count is in the gutter, so I must wear a mask everywhere in public while I spend the next 3 days receiving Neupogen injections in a effort to boost their struggling numbers. 

Stopped at the liquor store for wine which helped me get some sleep last night, but not much.  Tuesday arrived much too soon. As it is now, I’m wired, not the least bit tired. Just anxious, very, very anxious.

Off to the doctor’s appointment and Neupogen shot number 2. Gawd, but my life is just one thrill after another…

More later.

*

Adventures in Dry Cleaning

So, there I stood with a fist full of receipt/tickets waiting in a rather long line (especially for the day of the week and time of day) to pick up items being dry cleaned and others being pampered some other way. 

The 2 counter clerks seemed to be in a tizzy, running in circles and making

excuses to the customers being served as to why their items couldn’t be located. OK, this isn’t one of those same-day quickie cleaners, they take time and do a very good job. I  have all my dress shirts, kilts, tuxedo, vestments cleaned and pressed there as do many clergy in the area.

What was bothersome to the customers was that the items were to have been ready a week ago and they were nowhere to be found. That chain-link mechanical snake and carousel thingy (how’s that for a description) was almost in constant motion as they went round and round spot-checking ticket numbers.  All to no avail.

Each question by the clerks like “were there special instructions for these garments?” was met with teeth-clenched, irritated answers. Nothing special, just ladies evening dresses and men’s suits and dress shirts with French cuffs. This was going nowhere fast. 

The rather translucent clerks finally asked the customers to stand aside so the other waiting customers could be served.  They refused to budge.  Charming people.  It was all about them. Everyone else can wait. So, there.

With that, a few customers ahead of me emitted  groans and left the store. There were 2 of us left standing behind the 2 - now obnoxious - customers who were practically crawling all over the countertop. 

Suddenly the store owner arrived with a new batch of garments and as he wheeled them in to be placed on the snake belt, the clerks practically knocked him down trying to get at those hangers. They eventually found missing garments, but the customers were anything but happy. They didn’t want to pay the bills.

The owner - calmly smiling all the while - told them they didn’t have to pay, but the garments would not leave the store; they could leave whenever they wished to leave. They stared at him with eyes wide. What did he mean?

The owner produced the original ticket with special instructions, including removal of certain stains that required a lot of TLC. The two customers must have enjoyed one hell of a party because his and hers were quite a difficult mess to clean up.  The point is, the cleaners DID the job and as the man said, “after working that hard to get the garments looking like new, they’re not going anywhere for free.”

At this point let me say that I have no idea of the relationship between these people; if married, why separate receipts? By their attitudes one could tell they weren’t from around these parts. So all that will (blessedly) remain a mystery.  I’m just sayin’. 

New version of the Utility Kilt.

The person who had been next to me suddenly remembered something in her car and ran out the door. The cheap-ass whiners finally coughed up the cash and when they said they’d never be back, the owner said over his shoulder, “great, thank you” and they were gone.

It was finally my turn. I know my stuff was in because they told me it would be delayed because of the Kilts. The owner returned to placing the new items on the belt as my slacks, shirts, jackets, and kilts are hung next to the counter.  The already frazzled counter clerk looks at the kilts, then at me and said “oh, another problem. These were a nightmare to press properly, please don’t bring them back again.”

I looked at her in shock. They’ve always done kilts and not just mine, but the rental ones from the Formal Wear store across the highway. (Having just witnessed a fierce battle I wasn’t in the mood to fight.) As I mentioned this the owner came over with an exasperated expression, about to cover for her, when the other customer returned from her car. 

Seems she had forgotten 3 girl’s school uniform skirts in the car, and guess what?  They were pleated skirts. The other clerk stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes, the owner stopped breathing, the clerk handling my transaction let out a sigh and as I started to laugh, I heard, almost inaudibly - - “shit!”  

These poor folks were clearly having a very bad day. That’s not my problem.

I paid for the cleaning and as I turned to leave I said, “I’ll see you when these need cleaning again, or what?” The owner smiled, resigned to his fate and said, “sure, but I know we’ll see you before then.” I must make a point of visiting the cleaners again while wearing a kilt. Show off their fine work, and all that. My bad?

I'm thinking I might just wear the kilt to the post-Labor Day party at the Irish Pub next Monday.

And so it goes.

*

Happy Hour: Munchies and Mayhem

Dark & Stormy

In all my years living here I have never seen the town so full and bursting at the seams. Although many colleges started classes last week, the crowds were enormous.

In an attempt to head ‘em off at the pass, (and assure myself a weekend parking space) I ran to the pharmacy early - less than 2 miles away - and it took 45 minutes to do the deed. Aside from 5 or 6 minutes picking up the prescriptions, the rest was spent in heavier than usual traffic.

Even at 9:30 a.m. drivers were in a bad mood.  I was an obstacle in their way to the beach, if you get my drift. The speed limit in town is 25mph. I was one of a few locals obeying the law, also one of the few drivers not to be pulled over for speeding.  This did nothing for the visitors' attitude. Nothing.

Now available pre-mixed.

My parking space was still vacant when I returned. I cheered and blessed the Universe. Spent the rest of the day doing bits of nothing; passing time until 4:30 when Linda’s chariot parked out front and beckoned me aboard for a few hours of frivolity and sick humor.  Oh, and cocktails…let’s not forget the cocktails.  Sean made my Dark & Stormy’s and I was in heaven. Jeffrey tried a “Daddieo-Paddio” (sp?) which is a sort of rum martini, but sweet. I had a sip.  It’s lethal, trust me.

This being the last weekend before Labor Day a few of the usual suspects couldn’t join in the fun, but we shared photos and text messages with them, so as not to be totally left out.

As we munched on shredded beef nachos, mussels, clams, and hog wings (yes, we were at Pig & Fish) the funny and not-so-funny stories were shared and

passed around.  Even the P&F staff told a few of their own tales of woe.  Looks like it was the same stories all over town.

Jeffrey, Me, Frank

Tourists were more arrogant and needy this summer than in the past. Large families not willing to give an inch to anyone in their way of having their vacation experience exactly as planned.  Sad, really. So much angst when they ought to have been relaxed and laid back. 

As we were clearing up the tab, the owner of another restaurant came over to chat. His is a classical Irish pub with traditional local Irish foods and always very good. He invited us to celebrate post-Labor Day at his place next Monday after everyone gets off from their shift. It’s to be a special Happy Hour/Party for downtown service workers to wind down from the Summer-from-hell. There’ll be drink specials, of course, as well as a few surprise food specials that made Linda’s mouth water. He had me when he mentioned Irish sausages.

Stoney Lonen Irish Pub & Eatery.

Linda, being an Irish lass and knowing the owner better than any of us, quickly accepted the invitation, informing us all (me included, she will pick me up) that we are to meet there on Monday afternoon. So, now there is another social gig on the horizon to look forward to…I am soooo there!

Before driving me home, Linda took a tour of the town and amazed me with the staggering number of people walking around as well as those driving around (and around) in search of a parking spot. The beach block was insanity writ large, and not having been in large groups or crowds in a year, made me uneasy, even though I was in the car behind plate glass.

Amazingly, just 2 blocks away, my street was a quiet sanctuary with only parked cars evidence of the mayhem just around the corner. 

Ten days from now it will all be over; visitors will all be gone and the town returned to us, a little worn out, but still intact.

I was in bed before 8 o’clock and feeling like a million bucks.

And so it goes.

*

Good Deeds & Not-So-Good News

Passersby would have thought I was a homeless person this morning as I waddled down the street to the car with 2 big kitchen bags, followed by 2 large boxes  - all of it going to a new home - the thrift store. The two bags were filled with freshly cleaned and pressed shirts and slacks; the boxes full of household items and chachkas the likes of which never seem to end.  Always following me home, for some reason.

I once collected things from various holiday trips, restaurants, night clubs, and other places visited. When the previous life ended and things were divided, I knew I’d never have the room to display, or desire to see them again. So, my half was “chosen” (I had no voice in the matter), stuffed into boxes and added to the pile of belongings awaiting the movers.

They went into storage and were forgotten until I moved to this apartment. When discovered, I didn’t bother to give them a look. Out to the trash they went. I collect nothing but memories anymore. 

Anyhoo, back to today…

When I dropped everything off at the thrift store you’d have thought I brought in a king’s ransom. They were in desperate need of adult clothing, for some reason. Someone had dropped off 5 huge sacks of baby and toddler things, but the racks of items for adults were practically bare. The fact that most of the things I brought in had already been ironed stood me in good stead, too.  All they had to do in most cases was unfold and hang them up.  I am such a good boy!!! Now, if anyone fitting my size, pretty average, needs clothing, they’re in luck.

I checked out their costume jewelry counter in search of a large pin that could work as a kilt pin until I can afford to purchase a real one.  It seems mine went along with the EX when he took the dress kilt and Sporran. I found a nice one, but it was too small and weighed almost nothing. It wouldn’t do.  In case you don't know, the kilt pin is usually of some weight, attached to the lower right side of the front panel of the kilt which helps to keep the panel in place in a mild breeze. There are other reasons, too, but that was my primary reason for wearing one.  Yes, Modesty.

I made a stop to drop off some canned goods for the food pantry before heading to the Center appointment for the Neupogen shots. Yes, the CBC is that low, although you wouldn’t know it to look at me. The Lab was concerned that I wasn’t wearing the mask, nore was I short of breath, dizzy, or nauseus. I am none of those.

The strange thing is that my body seems to be adjusting to the lower CBC.  I don’t know what that might mean, but it can’t be good, since no warning signs appear until the near critical point.  Not good. Three days of injections will boost the white blood cell count, which was likely decimated by the 7 days of Chemo. It is what it is.

Fortunately, I was able to park close to the apartment building this afternoon, so no long walks from parking spaces half a block away. Makes life easier.

Just a side note here.  Where ever I went today, everyone was still talking about Robin Williams’ death. I mean - every where! I’ve never seen anything like this.  The man touched many, many people in a lot of very personal ways. What a legacy. 

And so it goes.

*

Another Day: Where Am I?

Day Two of Cycle Three of Chemo, that’s where! 

Today was “Let’s Bitch About the Summer Traffic” day. And man, did they ever bitch. It was inevitable; it’s August. There were plenty a damning story - or a harrowing tale of the stoopid - to tell.  I listened and chuckled to myself feeling grateful. I simply do my little centering exercise before hitting the road then tune out the madness. No stress for me.

One older gentleman (using the term loosely) bellowed for a half hour about having to drive to the Center in heavy traffic no matter the time of his appointments. He’s just moved here from the DC area and hasn’t figured out the back roads yet.

Granted, everyone has to spend some time on the Coastal Highway, but using back roads can cut that time considerably, if you know how to do it.

If you are unfortunate enough to live in one of the newer developments with outlets only to the highway, your ass is grass, as we say. Whether you need to travel north or south, you’re going to pay the price.

Most of today’s complainers lived south and/or west, so the patients who also live in those areas shared the secrets of avoiding the worst of highway travel. The routes may take them out of their way, but they’ll still get to the Center in less time and stress-free. Those living north and west already know the shortcuts allowing them to simply cross the highway and not get stuck on it.

As I wrote a while back, this is the first summer I’ve had to face highway traffic - and on a daily basis - so it was either find a good quiet place for my head or sit up and wait for it to explode.  I chose the former and it works well for me.  It’s also how I found my fab silver queen farmer’s parking place, so the cloud had a silver (queen) lining.  Oooh, sorry!

Following my treatment, and as suggested by Roger (the dear) over at 3rdnlong, I hung around and visited with a new patient who seemed overwhelmed. He was about my age, I suppose. When he was ushered in alone, his eyes were the size of dinner plates; they were much smaller when I left him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the chatting, carrying on, or the humor between patients and staff. I hope our time together helped to relax him a little.  

I just received this: one of the daytime cooks at DL was riding his scooter home on Coastal highway in heavy rain on Saturday clinging to the shoulder of the road using the bicycle lane, when he was hit by an SUV trying to dodge slow traffic in the turn lane. He’s in hospital with broken pelvis, broken leg, and shattered right arm.  Doctors are hopeful, but he’ll probably never be a professional cook again. 

You couldn’t get me on the highway on a scooter on a clear afternoon, but in a heavy downpour??? He was crazy to even try it. He was warned and made his choice. He’ll be in hospital for months, then rehab a few more months. I’ll visit in a few weeks, after all the painkillers and surgeries, when he’s on the mend.

Sometimes smart people do stupid things. As I raise my hand in total agreement.

And so it goes.

*