Present and Past

To all of those who haven't even begun buying presents for Christmas, I am sorry. I am truly sorry. I know how you feel.

But I just finished all of my shopping this morning. DONE!

I used to be really terrible at this stuff. Being in a mall on the day before Christmas, fighting the crowds, mainly other single young men.

I remember one-year the mall was so full I just went to the emptiest place and bought an $80 wallet for my Dad, which was way overpriced and he didn't like it since he broke in his existing wallet perfectly over the past 20-years. It was already formed to the shape of his butt perfectly.

But at least I got away from the zoo and was covered on my presents.

I'm somewhat known for giving zulu masks from Africa, or something fairly original. I'm just bad at this stuff.

But two things have come along through the years to take me from a miserable Santa Claus to a respectable one - first the internet, and then Barb.

The internet became amazing. I could shop from my recliner! No traffic jams to fight through, no crowds, no crazy people - I became one of the earliest shoppers on the internet. With the ability to relax and browse without a kid barfing on my shoe made a huge difference to me.

The second thing that made me a stronger shopper was Barb. She's added so much to my life in so many way.

Like yesterday she asked me if I knew how much I've spent on Christmas.

Hmmm. It's a good question. "I don't know exactly," I replied.

I got "the face," but with a chuckle at the end.

"Do you know what's in your checkbook?" she added.

Laughing, I said, "I don't have any idea."

She straightened me out from there. I know everything now.

Barb offers me organization, structure. My shopping wouldn't be done this early without her. And I know exactly what I have in my checkbook too. Woohoo!

Oops. Sorry to all you guys who haven't started yet.

Two Cool Teal Armbands

I had to have some bloodwork done yesterday. I'm in there so often they all know me well.

Barb joined me, which I always greatly appreciate. We had to pick up a 20-pound bag of food for Freckles. Whew! I think we could get 20-pounds of ground beef for less. For a cat that sleeps around and has a bad reputation, he sure is one spoiled cat.

I've worked out a gameplan over the years to get my bloodwork done as quickly as possible. I need to go around 9 a.m. to 10 a.m. In the early morning there are many people seeking bloodwork before they go to work. Around lunch time there are many people trying to get their bloodwork done during their lunch break, and worse yet the nurses start rotating into their lunch breaks so it can get pretty backed up. Mid-morning is the best time I've concluded, and yesterday things did go pretty fast.

When we're waiting Barb and I do crossword puzzles. We purposely get pretty easy crosswords to make us feel smart. (smile) We had gotten through about half a crossword when I was called back.

A young African-American gal welcomed me and introduced herself. She was a new nurse at the center. I hadn't met her before.

She introduced herself and asked me if I would mind her taking my blood because she is a student.

I didn't mind. If this was surgery I'm sure I would have protested. But this is just a needle in a vein and a little of my blood in a vile. I'm all for helping learning of any kind.

She studied my left arm hard, found a spot she liked and rubbed it with alcohol. She got her stuff together and went for it. I noticed one of the experienced nurses come over to look over her shoulder.

I've done this so many times I can almost always tell when someone got the vein, and when someone missed. She missed. She started digging around a little bit. That never works, either you hit it or you don't.

The experienced nurse offered to step-in and help. She recommended pulling the needle back out, saying that the vein was "blown out."

The student nurse looked sad, disappointed in herself. I tried to console her.

I told her that I remember when the nurse who stepped in to help just started and she missed more than hit. She was terrible. Now she's a pro. She's a rockstar! She is so smooth and gets me everytime on the first try and I often don't feel a thing. I told the student nurse to hang in there, keep practicing, let her know that she'll get it. I tried to reassure her.

The experienced nurse switched over to my right arm, and as expected was a real pro about it, smooth, in and out, barely felt a thing. I used to tell Barb about her and how bad she was. She would leave bruises all over my arms until she would finally get me. Now she never misses. She never even leaves a mark.

She fixed me up with a little gauze and this funky, flexible teal colored tape. We exchanged small talk.

I said, "If I don't see you before I hope you have great holidays."

She quickly turned and said "I hope you have a Merry Christmas."

I smiled and added "I hope you have a Merry Christmas too!" I knew she was a gal of strong Christian faith. We had discussed it before. She obviously didn't want anything to do with a politically correct holiday. She wanted a day to remember the birth of God's son, our savior. That works for me.

I took a look at my teal armbands wrapped around both my arms, around the elbow. They were a little tight, but looked kind of cool. I felt like I was the third-string quarterback for the Miami Dolphins or something.

I dressed back up in my 12-layers of clothing (I do not like this cold weather). Then I pulled Barb away from the crossword puzzle and we jumped in the FJ and drove back home.

Two seconds in the door I asked Barb to cut off my teal armbands which she kindly did.

Life of a Sneaker

When I was in high school I would not wear anything but the Nike sneaker to play basketball. It was the best sneaker around. There was a great story behind the company. I supported them fully. Before every season I asked my Mom a new pair of Nikes. It wasn't a problem then, they didn't cost $100 a pair. Actually I think they were around $20 a pair.

Nike had an interesting history. Started by two friends in Beaverton, Oregon, they first imported and resold sneakers made in Japan. Then one of the young partners poured melted rubber into a waffle iron and invented the first Nike sneaker.

I thought it was interesting to learn that the owners of Nike paid a local grahic artist $35 to a student at Portland State University to design the "swoosh" logo. Years later, after experiencing much success they through a luncheon in her honor and presented her with an unknown amount of company stock.

I liked the idea of an American sneaker on my foot. I was definitely a loyal customer.

But things went downhill.

A buzz developed around the Oregon factory that the workers were planning on starting a union.

The Nike owners immediately started a plant in South Korea and closed down the Oregon plant as soon as the new one was ready.

Then a few years later the government of South Korea passed a law allowing workers to form unions. Nike didn't wait for that to happen. They built a factory in some third-world location. I think it was Indonesia, and they moved again.

Now I always pronounced Nike exactly as it is spelled. I mean after all, how do you pronounce "bike." You don't say "bikey" do you?

Nike discovered fame and popularity, and they discovered sponsorhip, giving famous atheletes millions to promote their brand. It wasn't about the quality of the product anymore. It was now about branding, marketing, and making millions and millions.

I was gone. The only sneaker I would once buy was now the last sneaker on Earth that I would touch.

I think I did have a warning as a senior in high school that I should have paid more attention to.

We had a HUGE basketball playoff game at Lebanon High School. I forgot my sneakers. Someone was given a key to our house and sent running to Myerstown to try to retrieve my Nike sneakers. In the meantime the school had dug up a pair of high-top, canvas, Converse All-Stars. You know, at that time it was a very old-fashion style sneaker.

I played in the canvas sneakers. I had one of my best games of the season.

I should have known then. It was a sign. (smile)

The Christmas Ladder

(I have blogged about this previously - but for those who may have missed it...)

Many, many years ago my cousin and I stopped in to visit a friend. He was an eccentric genius. He was one of the smartest guys I ever met. But he was very anti-social and often kept to himself.

He did have a roommate, a ferret. I would sit on his couch watching my ankles, waiting for the long, skinny rat to shoot out and take a bite out of me. It never happened. I would just see a little shadow sprinting from one hiding place to another.

It was a couple weeks before Christmas and my friend had a tree with lights up in his living room. Well, it wasn't exactly a tree. It was shaped like a tree. It looked like a tree, especially in darker conditions when the tree was lit. But it wasn't a tree. It was a step ladder.

What?

Of course I had to ask, "What's with the ladder?"

He explained to me how he came to this idea. It was shaped just like a tree. He would not have to spend money on a tree that would drag needles all over his place. He would not have to water it every morning. He would not have to kill a tree and could feel eco-friendly about his choice.

I thought it was strangely genius.

Soon I had my own Christmas Ladder. I had an old woooden step ladder that was my Grandfather's. It was beat-up, had paint all over it, and really was safe to use in a traditional sense. But it had a lot of sentimental value to me.

I bought some lights and a couple ornaments and soon the first Christmas Ladder was proudly in place.

It became a tradition. In over 20-years I have never failed to set-up the Christmas ladder.

When Barb and Alyssa became part of my life I introduced Alyssa to my Christmas ladder upon our first holiday season together. She didn't seem to appreciate the tradition quite as much as me.

In fact Alyssa called her grandma to tell her that this guy was nuts. He was stringing lights on a ladder and didn't seem to have any plans to get a tree.

But I wouldn't let a Christmas go by for Alyssa without a real tree. I was just playing with her. Oh the Christmas Ladder was still displayed proudly. But I went out and bought a real tree as well. She sighed with relief. As long as Alyssa lived with us we always put up a real tree and a Christmas Ladder.

After we moved to Marietta I woke up Alyssa pretty early one morning. I told her that we were going to have the Christmas Ladder lighting ceremony and would like her to do the honors. With sleepy eyes she looked at me with a crooked smile. She plugged in the lights. Barb and I oooohed and awwwwwed with delight.

Alyssa looked at me. She laughed. She went back to bed.

This year Barb didn't really feel like going out and getting a real tree. We do have plenty on our plate right now. I thought about it. I was in the mood to get the Christmas mood in the house. But then I asked Barb, "Why don't we just do the ladder? That's all I ever did anyway until I met Alyssa."

Barb agreed. The Christmas Ladder was positioned and strung with lights yesterday. I love it!

Big Business

Who would have ever thought that we'd see a union vote for a contract that lowered wages and promised cutting up to 1,000-jobs?

That's what happened at Harley-Davidson of York yesterday. Harley threatened to move the plant to Kentucky unless they got what they wanted. I think they're still waiting for funding from the state to help convince them to stay too.

When I worked for a large local printer they wanted to build a plant in Northern New Jersey to attract more New York business. But once they learned of the real estate and construction costs in Northern Jersey they dropped the idea.

Until someone came up with an idea to fool the state government. Word would be let loose that they were planning on building in North Jersey and taking hundreds of jobs with them, even though they had given up on North Jersey completely.

The state trying to save jobs lined the printer's pockets with funding if they would build locally. They did. The building is barely used. What a scam.

Is there a similar situation going on now with Harley? We know they threatened to leave. But who knows if that was serious or just a threat? The state was eager to find funds to keep them here. The union was eager to conceed much to keep them here. Would it actually be cheaper to build a brand new plant in another state rather than retrofitting the existing plant here? Perhaps.

I don't like being so suspicious. But I've really seen too much to be anything but. Let's face it...can you really have nine cars all individually worth around $100,000, and an indoor basketball court, if you're living an honest life?

I'll always remember boating out a "creek" to the Chesapeake Bay with my Uncle. He caught me staring at this mansion on the water. It was HUGE! It had three-garages on the water for extravagant boats.

He said, "Jim, let me tell you. You can't get all of that and live an honest life. Trust me. I tried."

No News is Good News

Woohoo! I didn't receive news yesterday that anyone had to head to any medical facility to meet with any nurses or doctors. That's a nice change of pace.

I've been feeling a little bit stronger each and every day. There's still a long way to go. But at least I'm heading in the right direction.

The girls (Barb, Alyssa, Susan and Debbie) are getting together today to run around and do a little shopping. Barb keeps asking me if I'm OK with that. I'm great with that!

I needed a "drug holiday," and I'm certain that Barb could use a "Jim holiday." Actually I think it will give Barb great joy to be able to hang out with the girls in the family for a bit. They're quite a bunch. I'm thrilled that they'll be able to do this, absolutely thrilled.

I am "shopping challenged." I'm probably not doing a good job supporting the local merchants since I order everything (EVERYTHING) on the internet. But shopping just doesn't go well with me.

Perhaps its all the women's clothing stores and departments I was drug through by my Mom when I was growing up. Perhaps it was the fact that I only ever felt I needed jeans and t-shirts to get by. Afterall if I was shopping for a lawn tractor, I don't think I'd really mind that.

Everyone who knows my Mom knows that she has a serious shopping habit. It's no big secret. Everyone knows it. Now that she's retired and has a fixed income her shopping habit has caused me some worry and stress. Can she change? How do you change something that you've been doing for more than 50-years? It can't be easy.

Life is a constant evolution. We might not always be thrilled about those changes. But those changes they will come. I wasn't thrilled about the changes that cancer brought to my life, but the directions I had to take seemed quite obvious to me. I made the most with what I had, no matter the circumstance. Trying to force things against the current was useless. Sitting around in my own pity seemed even more useless. We have to examine how our lives' change and just roll with it, making the appropriate choices to still find happiness in everyday of our lives.

Someone recently told me that I have a "butterflys flying out of my butt attitude." Well that sounds a lot better than bees! lol Especially if the choice is mine!

Oh Boy

My Mom called yesterday morning. After the fall she took on Thanksgiving her neck had gotten very stiff. Then it began getting very sore - too sore.

So in the middle of the night Sunday she drove herself to the hospital to have things looked at further. She had two fractured vertabrae, both high on the spine near the skull.

They set her up with a hard brace around her neck and some serious pain killers to deal with the serious pain. In four-weeks she's scheduled for a review to see if she can switch to a soft neck brace.

Oh boy! She once told me during a tough spell for my Dad that I had to stay healthy because she could only handle one of us down at a time. She's not taking her own advice!

She was of good spirits yesterday. Perhaps it was the pain killers. I don't know. I do know how bad the pain can be from a spine injury. I do know that she's going to have to do some serious relaxing for many weeks to come to let everything heal. I hope she can sit still. Sitting still isn't always that easy.

Don't worry about things Mom. Just be patient and let things heal.

Without an Interferon injection Friday or Monday I'm starting to feel a little stronger. I understand that it may take a little while to clear this stuff from my system.

I called my oncologist yesterday. It has always impressed me that my oncologist provided me with his cell phone number many months ago. I don't abuse that privilege. I remember telling a nurse once that I'd call the doctor on his cell phone. She looked at me with complete shock and said, "You have his cell phone number?" She had been unsuccessfully trying to get ahold of him.

I thought it was important to let him know my decision to stop the Interferon injections. It was something we had discussed previously so I knew he'd be OK with this, taking a "drug holiday."

He called back in the middle of dinner last night. We don't answer the phone during dinner. He left a message expressing his regret that the drug effects on me were so harsh. He suggested that we could cut the dose in half, or perhaps do a full dose only once a week. I'll have to consider those options, although I think I'm leaning towards the once a week choice. We'll see.