Normally during the Superbowl, my wife and I try to do stuff that is usually crowded. Wait, am I allowed to say Superbowl (Trademark, Copyright, Patent Pending, etc.) or do I have to say "Big Game"? First of all, I am not real sure why most people watch anyway. At the beginning of the season if you said that this team made up players that a lot of people can't stand is playing this team that is made up of players most people have never heard of, no one would have given two cold craps, but because it decides who is best this year everyone has to watch it (the italics in this case indicate sarcasm). Many people say that they just watch for the commercials, which might have been relevant five to ten years ago, but in recent history you can watch the commercials on-line without having to sit through the stupid game. Plus, you can skip over the ones you have seen before or that you are just not interested in. And the beauty of watching them on-line, is now you can watch Superbowl commercials BEFORE THE SUPERBOWL! I watched Darth VW earlier this week, and didn't have to sit through crappy musical performances to see it. Although I will admit I am just taking Yahoo!'s word for the musical performances, but when someone on the comments section writes "I was high and it still sucked" it must have sucked pretty bad. And having never been high, I am also taking people's word that being high makes you listen to crappy music, but having spent nearly 10 years in various aspects of the music business I can say there definitely seems to be a direct correlation between being high and crappy music...or "jam band" as they like to call it. The correlation also goes for bad dancing styles, wardrobe, grammar, logic, and hygiene.
Anyway, this year we decided to just go shopping during the big game. The stores were empty (especially the tool store!) and we were able to get in and out with minimal aggravation. Well, except for the aggravation of waiting for my wife to finish shopping. We were a little worried at the grocery store, because the parking lot was packed. Once inside it looked empty. I am assuming everyone ran in for the things they forgot for their Superbowl party and ran back out again. I base this assumption on seeing people run in, grab something and run back out again. The strangest one was the guy that ran, full sprint, grabbed a large package of toilet paper and a twelve pack of generic orange soda. That has to be the worst Superbowl party ever! Especially if you are the one waiting for the toilet paper delivery. (I can just imagine the guy on the pot saying "Dammit Jerry, why did you have to waste time getting the generic orange soda, didn't you know I was sitting here with mudbutt?!?!")
What always bothers me about the Superbowl, is that most TV networks assume everyone is watching the Superbowl, so they don't show anything new of their own, and usually they rerun crap. Maybe if networks would run something else to watch, people wouldn't sit at home with their flipper saying "looks like nothing is on, I guess I'll flip over to the Big Game to watch a commercial". This was NOT the case for me. I have been in heaven for most of the day...well the part of the day I wasn't waiting for my wife to finish shopping. Top Gear (UK, the real one. The one that is actually funny and entertaining.) has been running a marathon all weekend and will continue until 5am Tuesday morning. So, you know where I will be until 5am Tuesday morning. My dilemma is there has also been a marathon of Gearz. I have been flipping back and forth between the show about guys who don't know how to work on cars (which is part of what makes the show funny) that drive cars I will never afford or the guy that makes cars we can all afford into cars that are as fast and as cool as the cars most of us can never afford. One of the best dilemmas I have ever had to deal with. Much better than that I-am-sick-and-have-to-poop-and-puke-at-the-same-time-and-don't-know-which-mess-I-want-to-clean-up dilemma.
I had better get off of here, I am actually missing two shows I really enjoy. Then later I will get on-line and watch the commercials for the Superbowl that I didn't see before the game and read how much everyone hated the music. I don't think I missed much at all.
Showing posts with label car show. Show all posts
Showing posts with label car show. Show all posts
Monday, February 7, 2011
Monday, October 11, 2010
All Babies Returned in the Same Condition I Received Them
What a difference a day makes! I don't know if it was coincidence, people reading my blog, or both, but today happened to be a pretty good day.
As I have mentioned earlier, chemo starts Friday, and I am rushing to get myself prepared, do the things I need to do before chemo, and say hi to people before I sequester myself for the next month. First of all, I received many well wishes from people who have read my blog. Thank you very much! The people that contacted me today have been good supporters throughout this, and it was good to hear from them again today. Of course, I have been running around so much today, I have yet to e-mail them back. Great way to thank my supporters, they e-mail me good tidings, and I ignore them all day. No wonder I don't have more support.
Then out of the blue, my car show buddy called and asked if I could do lunch. Since my life right now only involves doctors' appointments and endless internet surfing, I decided I could move some things around and go to lunch. He showed up in the car he hid from his wife for a few days (what a great idea, why didn't I think about that?!?!) and we ran off to start complaining about prescription companies. After talking about how his mail order prescription company was shortchanging him, delaying his prescriptions, and giving him the runaround, I tell him about my similar experiences with my mail order prescriptions. Then it dawned on us that we were talking about the same company! At least they are consistent. Shortly after that, I message another friend and we arrange lunch for later on this week. For a guy with nothing to do and no friends, my social calendar is getting pretty busy!
Next I had received a text from a friend that she had given birth this morning. My wife and I made our way over to the hospital where my little frozen babies are, at which point my wife reminded me that even though I may have done that certain activity the last few times I was in this medical complex, I was under no circumstances allowed to do it this time. Good thing too, they didn't have any of the magazines or videos I had been accustomed to on my previous visits here. We get up to her room and see a brand spanking new baby. I hold her in my arms (the baby, not my friend), and I realize I have never held a baby this small before. I never realized how tiny those things are when they are first hatched. I also didn't know that you are supposed to make a "baby burrito" out of them either. I think I was holding a complete baby, I at least know I was holding a bunch of tightly bundled blankets with a tiny smiling head poking out. I assume all the other parts were in the blanket tortilla somewhere. I held her for a long time (for me) and after about two minutes I handed her off to my wife and to my surprise, I didn't break her, which is always my fear when holding babies. I hope when we have ours in has an owner's manual or at the very least a tag somewhere that explains the correct way to fold a baby burrito. Soon more people poured in and the room started getting a little crowed. I figured I had made it this far without breaking any babies, I should probably quit while I was ahead and leave. I have an almost spotless record of only breaking one baby. My sister. But I only broke her arm, and to be honest, she was kind of asking for it. OK, she wasn't asking for it, she was just laying there, but she should have been paying attention and moved out of the way when I executed an almost perfect flip, which has a pretty high difficulty score for a eight year old. I would like to keep my baby breaking record completely clean, except for the one blemish, but I don't think family should count, especially when it was her fault.
We ended up the day by stopping by and getting the last of my chemo food rations. We left with a cart full from Sam's Club, so I should be able to survive as a hermit for my four weeks of dealing with chemo. And if we have miscalculated and the chemo makes me not want any of the stuff we bought (which we are told is entirely possible), I have enough food to last through a nuclear winter or two.
So today ended pretty well. I heard from some good friends. Got to see a few more. I have my food pantry stocked with chemo food. All I have left to do is a couple of things on the "Honey Do" list and prep a for a few projects that I hope I will be able to work on while dealing with chemo. Outside of that, I may try to squeeze in a couple more meetings with friends before my four weeks in solitary confinement. This week is shaping up to be a pretty good one. All that AND no broken babies!
As I have mentioned earlier, chemo starts Friday, and I am rushing to get myself prepared, do the things I need to do before chemo, and say hi to people before I sequester myself for the next month. First of all, I received many well wishes from people who have read my blog. Thank you very much! The people that contacted me today have been good supporters throughout this, and it was good to hear from them again today. Of course, I have been running around so much today, I have yet to e-mail them back. Great way to thank my supporters, they e-mail me good tidings, and I ignore them all day. No wonder I don't have more support.
Then out of the blue, my car show buddy called and asked if I could do lunch. Since my life right now only involves doctors' appointments and endless internet surfing, I decided I could move some things around and go to lunch. He showed up in the car he hid from his wife for a few days (what a great idea, why didn't I think about that?!?!) and we ran off to start complaining about prescription companies. After talking about how his mail order prescription company was shortchanging him, delaying his prescriptions, and giving him the runaround, I tell him about my similar experiences with my mail order prescriptions. Then it dawned on us that we were talking about the same company! At least they are consistent. Shortly after that, I message another friend and we arrange lunch for later on this week. For a guy with nothing to do and no friends, my social calendar is getting pretty busy!
Next I had received a text from a friend that she had given birth this morning. My wife and I made our way over to the hospital where my little frozen babies are, at which point my wife reminded me that even though I may have done that certain activity the last few times I was in this medical complex, I was under no circumstances allowed to do it this time. Good thing too, they didn't have any of the magazines or videos I had been accustomed to on my previous visits here. We get up to her room and see a brand spanking new baby. I hold her in my arms (the baby, not my friend), and I realize I have never held a baby this small before. I never realized how tiny those things are when they are first hatched. I also didn't know that you are supposed to make a "baby burrito" out of them either. I think I was holding a complete baby, I at least know I was holding a bunch of tightly bundled blankets with a tiny smiling head poking out. I assume all the other parts were in the blanket tortilla somewhere. I held her for a long time (for me) and after about two minutes I handed her off to my wife and to my surprise, I didn't break her, which is always my fear when holding babies. I hope when we have ours in has an owner's manual or at the very least a tag somewhere that explains the correct way to fold a baby burrito. Soon more people poured in and the room started getting a little crowed. I figured I had made it this far without breaking any babies, I should probably quit while I was ahead and leave. I have an almost spotless record of only breaking one baby. My sister. But I only broke her arm, and to be honest, she was kind of asking for it. OK, she wasn't asking for it, she was just laying there, but she should have been paying attention and moved out of the way when I executed an almost perfect flip, which has a pretty high difficulty score for a eight year old. I would like to keep my baby breaking record completely clean, except for the one blemish, but I don't think family should count, especially when it was her fault.
We ended up the day by stopping by and getting the last of my chemo food rations. We left with a cart full from Sam's Club, so I should be able to survive as a hermit for my four weeks of dealing with chemo. And if we have miscalculated and the chemo makes me not want any of the stuff we bought (which we are told is entirely possible), I have enough food to last through a nuclear winter or two.
So today ended pretty well. I heard from some good friends. Got to see a few more. I have my food pantry stocked with chemo food. All I have left to do is a couple of things on the "Honey Do" list and prep a for a few projects that I hope I will be able to work on while dealing with chemo. Outside of that, I may try to squeeze in a couple more meetings with friends before my four weeks in solitary confinement. This week is shaping up to be a pretty good one. All that AND no broken babies!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Yesterday's Battle: Tom vs. Cancer=TIE
Yesterday I was bound and determined to go to the car show. My father came in town and went with me, something I had wanted him to do for years, but after the events of the last few weeks, it seemed to have a little more sense of urgency. I was feeling a lot better. I would be doing this if I weren't in my cancer fight. I was going to go to that show and prove that I am getting on just fine, with or without cancer.
The day started out cold, but by the time we made it to the car show the sun was out and we ended up leaving our jackets in the car. I received free passes from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend type thing, so I wasn't really sure that I was going to get in, or how to explain how I came to possess said passes because I wasn't quite sure the whole story myself, but they waved us right through. The day was going great. We got there when I wanted. It was sunny and warm. We start my usual attack for this particular show. Walk around the perimeter, then move to the inside and shoot down the rows that look like they have something interesting. We go straight to the very back of the show where some of my favorite cars tend to park. Today was turning out exactly like I had hoped as we were walking down the gravel path between aisles. I am walking with almost no pain, still with my pants and boxer shorts up around my belly button like a cartoonish old man, but my t-shirt is hiding that, kinda.
Then, when we are a the very back side of the fairgrounds, literally as far away from my Jeep as we can possibly be and still be at the car show, it happens. I take a step, just a normal step, the same type of steps I have been taking thus far. My foot doesn't land exactly level. I don't trip, slip, or twist my ankle, my foot is just a little off camber. A searing pain instantly shoots from about eight inches below my incision to just above my incision. To describe the pain, it feels like a monkey had run up with a white hot knife and stabbed me and sliced from one end to the other. I look around and see no monkey, much less any white hot knife holding monkeys. I thought maybe it could have been an invisible monkey and knife, or even koala bear, but my pants have no sign of being sliced, so I give up on that theory. It hurts like hell, but I just assume it's an isolated incident. We walk a little further and it happens again, except this time the pain takes a little longer to go away. I having been dying to come to this. I talked my dad into leaving at five this morning to get here in time. I am NOT leaving this car show until I have done everything I want to do. I don't want dad to see how much pain I am in, or he may try to talk me into leaving. I don't think he notices. We make our way to the center, and the shooting pain is happening more and more often, and it is getting harder and harder to walk. Still dad doesn't notice. "You're hurting aren't you?" he says. OK, he noticed. But I don't have to let on how excruciating this pain is, because I am not leaving until I am done. I wish there was an invisible ice pack throwing monkey to help me feel better or pain killer dispensing monkeys, but I couldn't find any monkey evidence at all (tons of koala bears but they just had eucalyptus oil. I decide that cancer may not have an ass to kick, but today I am going to do what I want to do regardless of what cancer treatment throws at me. I can tell I am slowing down. And limping. I am doing a lousy job at hiding it. Almost every step hurts now with the almost crippling pain happening every few yards now. On one hand I want to hurry up and get out, on the other, every time we stop to look at something it gives me just a second to rest and the pain subsides a little.
We make it out of the cars and now just have to go through the exhibits and the parking lot. We stop at one tool vendor. He is selling a very long, heavy duty blow gun, which I need, but I have an ulterior motive. I buy it. When dad isn't looking I rest one end of it on my shoe and basically use it as a cane. He almost catches me doing it a couple of times and I think he assumes it is tripping me. He keeps pressing me to let him carry it, I can't let him know what I am really doing with it or he will make us walk out right now. With cancer, it seems sometimes what may be the best decision for your physical health is not always the best decision for your mental health. I NEED to leave here on my terms, when I want to. We just have to go through one more exhibit hall, the last tool vendor, then out of the gate. Dad starts to walk through the hall, when he is not looking I take a short cut and rest while I wait for him to notice I am on the other side of the building. Luckily it took him a while to notice. I don't know if I should be glad I get to rest or mad that it took him so long to realize I'm not beside him anymore. We walk out to the last tool vendor, buy a couple of things, and out the gate. The walk on the pavement is smooth. I am still in incredible pain, but not the intense shooting pain. We get to the grass parking lot with big ruts in it. I don't remember them being the huge chasms they seem to be now. Is it possible they were strip mining in this lot between the time we left and the time I hobble back? It seems like forever to make it to the Jeep.
I can't wait for the relief sitting down will give me. I go to hop in the seat, and I can't lift my right leg high enough to get in. I look to see if dad noticed. Good he didn't. But now I am stuck. How to I drag my lifeless right leg in, without him forcing me in the passenger seat or insisting we go home? From the knee down, my leg feels fine, but every little movement from the knee to the waist is like giving birth, I assume. If giving birth hurts any worse than this, I think everyone would be an only child. I back my butt up to the seat and push myself in with my left leg. I am then able to swivel my body, and my defective upper leg, inside the car.
Common sense would say we should go home. I think I felt something "pop" out at the car show, and the shooting pain feels like it is pulling something apart inside. Cancer would like me to go home. I am not going home. Not yet. We head to the tool store and a couple of other places. Cancer can't win. Not the war, and not this battle. I wanted to go to the tool store, and I am going regardless of the pain I am in. And I am going to buy whatever I want there...provided it is very light and I can carry it in my left hand so it doesn't cause more pressure on my right side. We also go into a sporting goods store and I am wore out from the pain. Almost unable to go any further, I am ready to leave. Dad says he is going to check out the shoes real quick. I stay there just staring at the kayaks, unwilling to take a step. The shooting pain rarely happens when I am standing still. It's at the end of kayak season anyway. Maybe when they take the kayaks out for the year, they will move the shoe department up here so I won't have to go anywhere. Doesn't look like that is going to happen any time soon. Finally I walk to the shoes...at the back of the store. I can't take it. The benches look so comfortable, but they are so low to the ground I don't know if I can get back up if I sit down. The pain takes over and I sit down. The moment my butt hits the bench dad says, "They don't have anything let's go." I urge him to look some more so my pain reprieve will last a little longer. I know he is looking for running shoes, but I think they have hockey skates in his size, maybe he should just take a few minutes to try some on while I sit on this bench. No such luck. But I was able to get back up, which surprised me. We get back home and I get inside the house. I can collapse now.
The day was confusing. I proved that I can move on with my life regardless of what my illness will throw at me, but at what cost? It took forever to get into bed and get comfortable. Any movement of my upper right leg causes intense pain, and the shooting pain while walking is coming close to dropping me. Physically, I feel like I pushed back my recovery two weeks. Mentally, I feel absolutely wonderful! Almost. I had planned to go play in my little music room after everyone left today, and instead I think I spent three hours trying to walk upstairs, fix lunch, and walk back down again. BUT, I did do what I had planned to do before this cancer crap happened. I did have fun. I did enjoy myself. And I did get to spend some quality time with my parents. I am just hoping my mom didn't hear all of the times I muttered the "F-word" when the pain shot through me.
So, I am going to win this war with cancer. And in my mind, I have proven I will not let cancer beat me on these little battles as well. However, after yesterday, I didn't lose, but I wouldn't call it a complete victory either. I think yesterday's battle will have to just be declared a draw. But, that's the last time I plan on letting these battles be that close.
The day started out cold, but by the time we made it to the car show the sun was out and we ended up leaving our jackets in the car. I received free passes from a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend type thing, so I wasn't really sure that I was going to get in, or how to explain how I came to possess said passes because I wasn't quite sure the whole story myself, but they waved us right through. The day was going great. We got there when I wanted. It was sunny and warm. We start my usual attack for this particular show. Walk around the perimeter, then move to the inside and shoot down the rows that look like they have something interesting. We go straight to the very back of the show where some of my favorite cars tend to park. Today was turning out exactly like I had hoped as we were walking down the gravel path between aisles. I am walking with almost no pain, still with my pants and boxer shorts up around my belly button like a cartoonish old man, but my t-shirt is hiding that, kinda.
Then, when we are a the very back side of the fairgrounds, literally as far away from my Jeep as we can possibly be and still be at the car show, it happens. I take a step, just a normal step, the same type of steps I have been taking thus far. My foot doesn't land exactly level. I don't trip, slip, or twist my ankle, my foot is just a little off camber. A searing pain instantly shoots from about eight inches below my incision to just above my incision. To describe the pain, it feels like a monkey had run up with a white hot knife and stabbed me and sliced from one end to the other. I look around and see no monkey, much less any white hot knife holding monkeys. I thought maybe it could have been an invisible monkey and knife, or even koala bear, but my pants have no sign of being sliced, so I give up on that theory. It hurts like hell, but I just assume it's an isolated incident. We walk a little further and it happens again, except this time the pain takes a little longer to go away. I having been dying to come to this. I talked my dad into leaving at five this morning to get here in time. I am NOT leaving this car show until I have done everything I want to do. I don't want dad to see how much pain I am in, or he may try to talk me into leaving. I don't think he notices. We make our way to the center, and the shooting pain is happening more and more often, and it is getting harder and harder to walk. Still dad doesn't notice. "You're hurting aren't you?" he says. OK, he noticed. But I don't have to let on how excruciating this pain is, because I am not leaving until I am done. I wish there was an invisible ice pack throwing monkey to help me feel better or pain killer dispensing monkeys, but I couldn't find any monkey evidence at all (tons of koala bears but they just had eucalyptus oil. I decide that cancer may not have an ass to kick, but today I am going to do what I want to do regardless of what cancer treatment throws at me. I can tell I am slowing down. And limping. I am doing a lousy job at hiding it. Almost every step hurts now with the almost crippling pain happening every few yards now. On one hand I want to hurry up and get out, on the other, every time we stop to look at something it gives me just a second to rest and the pain subsides a little.
We make it out of the cars and now just have to go through the exhibits and the parking lot. We stop at one tool vendor. He is selling a very long, heavy duty blow gun, which I need, but I have an ulterior motive. I buy it. When dad isn't looking I rest one end of it on my shoe and basically use it as a cane. He almost catches me doing it a couple of times and I think he assumes it is tripping me. He keeps pressing me to let him carry it, I can't let him know what I am really doing with it or he will make us walk out right now. With cancer, it seems sometimes what may be the best decision for your physical health is not always the best decision for your mental health. I NEED to leave here on my terms, when I want to. We just have to go through one more exhibit hall, the last tool vendor, then out of the gate. Dad starts to walk through the hall, when he is not looking I take a short cut and rest while I wait for him to notice I am on the other side of the building. Luckily it took him a while to notice. I don't know if I should be glad I get to rest or mad that it took him so long to realize I'm not beside him anymore. We walk out to the last tool vendor, buy a couple of things, and out the gate. The walk on the pavement is smooth. I am still in incredible pain, but not the intense shooting pain. We get to the grass parking lot with big ruts in it. I don't remember them being the huge chasms they seem to be now. Is it possible they were strip mining in this lot between the time we left and the time I hobble back? It seems like forever to make it to the Jeep.
I can't wait for the relief sitting down will give me. I go to hop in the seat, and I can't lift my right leg high enough to get in. I look to see if dad noticed. Good he didn't. But now I am stuck. How to I drag my lifeless right leg in, without him forcing me in the passenger seat or insisting we go home? From the knee down, my leg feels fine, but every little movement from the knee to the waist is like giving birth, I assume. If giving birth hurts any worse than this, I think everyone would be an only child. I back my butt up to the seat and push myself in with my left leg. I am then able to swivel my body, and my defective upper leg, inside the car.
Common sense would say we should go home. I think I felt something "pop" out at the car show, and the shooting pain feels like it is pulling something apart inside. Cancer would like me to go home. I am not going home. Not yet. We head to the tool store and a couple of other places. Cancer can't win. Not the war, and not this battle. I wanted to go to the tool store, and I am going regardless of the pain I am in. And I am going to buy whatever I want there...provided it is very light and I can carry it in my left hand so it doesn't cause more pressure on my right side. We also go into a sporting goods store and I am wore out from the pain. Almost unable to go any further, I am ready to leave. Dad says he is going to check out the shoes real quick. I stay there just staring at the kayaks, unwilling to take a step. The shooting pain rarely happens when I am standing still. It's at the end of kayak season anyway. Maybe when they take the kayaks out for the year, they will move the shoe department up here so I won't have to go anywhere. Doesn't look like that is going to happen any time soon. Finally I walk to the shoes...at the back of the store. I can't take it. The benches look so comfortable, but they are so low to the ground I don't know if I can get back up if I sit down. The pain takes over and I sit down. The moment my butt hits the bench dad says, "They don't have anything let's go." I urge him to look some more so my pain reprieve will last a little longer. I know he is looking for running shoes, but I think they have hockey skates in his size, maybe he should just take a few minutes to try some on while I sit on this bench. No such luck. But I was able to get back up, which surprised me. We get back home and I get inside the house. I can collapse now.
The day was confusing. I proved that I can move on with my life regardless of what my illness will throw at me, but at what cost? It took forever to get into bed and get comfortable. Any movement of my upper right leg causes intense pain, and the shooting pain while walking is coming close to dropping me. Physically, I feel like I pushed back my recovery two weeks. Mentally, I feel absolutely wonderful! Almost. I had planned to go play in my little music room after everyone left today, and instead I think I spent three hours trying to walk upstairs, fix lunch, and walk back down again. BUT, I did do what I had planned to do before this cancer crap happened. I did have fun. I did enjoy myself. And I did get to spend some quality time with my parents. I am just hoping my mom didn't hear all of the times I muttered the "F-word" when the pain shot through me.
So, I am going to win this war with cancer. And in my mind, I have proven I will not let cancer beat me on these little battles as well. However, after yesterday, I didn't lose, but I wouldn't call it a complete victory either. I think yesterday's battle will have to just be declared a draw. But, that's the last time I plan on letting these battles be that close.
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