Medical updates

Ron's foot is finally - albeit slowly - on the mend. His appointment schedule is not as heavy now. A Procrit injection weekly, infectious disease doctor monthly, and orthopedic surgeon every other week is a big improvement over Procrit injection, infectious disease doctor, and orthopedic surgeon ever week. That's quite a savings on co-pays, too!

I just wish the wound vac was closer to coming off. That co-pay is killing me. The minimum monthly payment on is is $100 per month and as the amount we're responsible for goes up, the payment amount will go up. They will only give you 18 months to pay it off and right now I think our balance is around $2,000 and they have not processed claims for the entire period. I can only do what I can do though so if it takes longer than 18 months, then that's what will happen.

Oh well, such is life. Can't change what you can't change so just grin and bear it - and move on. That sounds like a good piece of advice to follow and I do my best to follow it every day.

So, obviously I can't tell time...

Ron's first appointment today was for 1:50. I had thought it was for 2:15 so I told him I was leaving work at 1:00. Once I realized it was earlier I called and let him know I'd leave work at 12:45 instead. There was no way I could drive home from work, get him and the scooter loaded, and then get to our destination, unload the scooter, park, and get into the office in 50 minutes -but leaving 15 minutes than earlier planned would do the trick.

I had two meetings scheduled this morning - one from 9:30 until 11:00 and then the second one from 11:00 until 12:00. The first meeting went late and didn't end until after 11:30 and for some reason I got the times all backwards in my head and decided that I needed to leave immediately to head home.

I walked in the door at 12:10 and asked Ron why he wasn't ready. He said I was early. I said I left work exactly when I'd told him I would. So as I'm rushing him out the door and getting things ready to take to the doctor I kept thinking about why he thought I was early and it wasn't making the connection. The neurons weren't firing. Thought processes were knocking but no one was home.

We're about half-way to the doctor's office and he said something about I interrupted a show he was watching. I said it should have been over by the time I got there and then it hit me... I was an hour early. Ugh! Can't show up to the office that early because they're out for lunch until 1:00 and at the rate I was going we'd be there about 12:45. It's not an easy process to unload and then have to reload the scooter so I suggested we go to lunch at the hospital across the parking lot from the doctor's office. That worked out well for us.

Only problem with my lack of time-telling abilities is I now have to re-work my time sheet and lose an extra hour of pay for the week. That's an expensive lunch...

Promises, Promises, Promises

I hate it when someone tells me they're going to do something - and then they don't. I hate it when someone volunteers to take care of a need, and then I count on it, and then that person doesn't.

How do you get people to follow through on what they promise? I wasn't raised that way and I didn't think I raised my kids to be that way, either. Out of four boys, we managed to get two who make promises they don't keep and one of those has learned that it's easiest to have no input at all - no phone calls, no visits, zip/nada/nothing. I believe the other one means it when he says he'll be over - but then something better comes along and we get shoved to the back burner.

I don't usually say anything to him but this weekend I was very frustrated and I left a message on his voice mail that basically said I was sick of being on the bottom of the list and being sold out if something better came along. It's not right and I am tired of wondering if he's going to show up or not. It will be easier if I just quit expecting.

Our yard needs to be mowed. It's needed to be mowed for over a week. It was supposed to happen last Saturday, but it didn't. Then it was going to happen Sunday but we never heard from him. I finally got him on IM and asked about it and got the message that he'd hurt his eye. That's fine and I am sorry his eye got hurt - but there was no telephone around anywhere??? If he had done what he said he'd do FIRST and then go "play" it wouldn't have been an issue.

This past week, it rained. And rained. And rained some more. He was going to come over this "Sunday for sure" and, silly me, I assumed that meant he was going to mow. Nope. No phone call, no show. Same crap; different day.

I guess he figures that if he doesn't call me (or return phone calls, or send an IM message) then he's off the hook. Well, he's off the hook because I'm not going to ask him again to do squat for me. If I can't do it myself, I'll hire it done. It's not like we abuse him with stuff to do around here. I think he may have - and this is a generous amount - mowed our yard five times this summer. I'm not even sure it was that much but I'll give five. I've had him help a bit in the garage. I've had him do a few other things, but not much.

Amy doesn't mow and I don't mow. Ron sure can't mow. I had been paying someone else to mow but he quit showing up (and he owes us $40 for a weed eater, too) and then a man from our church started showing up to mow - which we greatly appreciated. But we can't count on him as he has his own life and responsibilities to take care of. If there were any teenagers in the neighborhood who did mowing then I'd hire them. But there aren't any so that leaves me back at square one: Ask my son and hope that he'll follow through or pray that some kind person just shows up and mows it.

I guess I need to learn how to operate these pieces of equipment and get out there myself. I don't want to be the man. I hate being the man! I have the inside of the house to be responsible for and I resent having to take care of the outside, too. I can never start the darn mower and then after about two-three passes across the yard my back hurts so badly that I can barely stand it. I can't get the bag off or back on. Since tomorrow is trash day it would have been very nice to have the lawn clippings ready for pick-up, but that's not going to happen. So they'll either have to sit on the yard or I'll have to rake them into a bag which will sit and ferment for a week. Gross.

I do have a battery-powered weed eater and I'm going to try and trim tomorrow or Wednesday evening. We'll see how that goes...

I guess they all think that since Amy lives with us that she can just take care of the yard. That would be grand except she's got school, homework, Isaiah, and the grass makes her itch.

I'm really tired of the excuses and the partial truths. I know my son reads this blog. I am not trying to offend him with what I'm saying but I do want him to realize that his actions are not right.

I want him to realize that he's a great guy and he knows better than to act like this. I want him to realize that his actions today will have a direct impact on his future tomorrow. All of his actions. I want him to realize that he's got to get over that girl and move on. She's not worth the crap that he's putting himself through. I want him to realize that people love him and want only what's best for him.

But he's got to want it, too and want to move on. That includes not shutting people out, not making excuses for things, and not shirking his responsibilities - no matter what they are.

To glorify whom?

I have strong Southern Baptist roots and, although I have gone to a Pentecostal Holiness church for the past several years, I still feel myself reacting to things in the sanctuary with a "Baptist" frame of mind. You would think I'd be used to people saying "Amen" during the service by now (I've even thrown in a few of my own, too), and I am for the most part. What I'm not used to, and will probably never get used to, is people saying more than just the standard "Amen" during a sermon.

I have a hard time staying focused when I'm subconsciously waiting for someone to shout something out. It's distracting. It's sometimes irritating and sometimes annoying. There is one lady in particular who is very vocal. She's very nice and very sincere but I really wish she was a bit quieter.

When someone is constantly saying things like "Come on!" "Preach it, Brother!" or "That's right!" during the sermon it is very distracting. Who does that glorify? God? Not in my mind. I think it's glorifying the speaker instead. I don't think God needs for us to constantly reinforce what the preacher is saying. He obviously is preaching what he believes God has led him to preach, so why do we need to add a commentary to it? I know that it's sometimes hard for the speaker to know if people are understanding the true meaning of the sermon or if it's going right past them so some "Amen" comments are very good. But, even if people weren't getting it, if he's following the will of God, that is all that should matter. Some people need to have fewer distractions during the service to get everything God wants them to receive from the service.

I know I do...

Amen to that!

Where were you when terror struck?

While the world went about their daily routines, Muslim extremists were planning how and when to deliver their next blow to the United States. On September 11, 2001 they succeeded in delivering what they hoped would be a crushing blow. Instead, they delivered a blow that sparked dedication, patriotism, and regard for our fellow man. Instead of crushing our resistance, they bolstered our resolve. Instead of killing our patriotism, they encouraged us to fly our flags in the face of adversity.

In the days leading up to September 11, 2001 I was enjoying a leisurely cruise aboard the USS Boxer as a Tiger Cruise participant. Amy was stationed aboard the Boxer and had been on a six-month deployment to the Persian Gulf. As part of the coming home proceedings, the detachment of ships, which included the Boxer, participated in hosting Tiger Cruise guests. Amy’s ship was the largest in the battle group and there were approximately 400 guests scattered across the ships that made up her battle group. As a participant, I flew to Los Angeles on September 2 and then on to Hawaii on September 3. I’d never been to Hawaii so I thoroughly enjoyed visiting the sites that we were able to squeeze in before we had to report to the Boxer. We boarded her ship on the evening of September 5. The battle group pulled out of Pearl Harbor bright and early on September 6 for its eight-day trip back to San Diego.

The first few days of the voyage were filled with fun events meant to show non-military personnel what life aboard a naval ship entailed. We slept in the berthing units, stood in lines for chow, participated in various role-playing games, and showed up for “man overboard” exercises. We learned some details about the ship, we learned some new things about the Navy, we received awards for passing our sea-readiness tests, and we developed a deeper admiration for the men and women, our sons and our daughters, who comprised the crews of these massive ships.

What a lot of people don’t realize, me included, is that life aboard a Navy ship is not about a 9-5 work day. It’s about a 12-hour work day (on a good day), standing duty (6 hours on, 6 hours off), no days off, and no sleeping in. It’s loud and sometimes sleep is hard to come by (try sleeping in a noisy factory), especially for those who work the night shift. The food is only seasoned with the most basic of seasonings - salt and pepper. The chow lines are long and can wind down the galley way, up and down stairwells, and finally end. You can stand in the chow line for 30-40 minutes. Try doing that three times a day, day in and day out. I got a break though because Amy was part of the Flying Squad, a special group formed to be the first responders to casualties at sea, and she had front of the line privileges. If she wasn’t eating, I couldn’t stand in that line without her, but she could stand there long enough for me to go through the chow line. Sometimes just for the fun of it, I stood in the regular line so I could visit with others.

The morning of September 11 dawned crisp and clear; we were three days out of San Diego and had enjoyed a very uneventful trip. The weather had been good and we’d not traveled through any storms along the way. Since I was a “guest” I got to sleep in a bit later than Amy.

Having the privacy that a dark curtain provides, and the noise that the compartment fan created, it made sleeping a bit later easier. I awoke to hear the announcement over the loudspeaker that the World Trade Center had been attacked and news was sketchy. I hurriedly went through my morning routine and raced up to Amy’s office, where everyone was staring, transfixed at the computer monitors on the shared workstations. I was no exception. I stood behind Amy completely absorbed with what we were seeing on the screen. The enormity of the actions taken by a cowardly few was nearly beyond comprehension.

As the news filtered to and throughout the ship, it became obvious that the bandwidth being requested was far exceeding the ship’s capabilities, and they still had a job to do and a mission to perform. The access to the Internet was disabled except for business necessity. Amy’s chief allowed me to use the ship-to-shore phone to call Ron and let him know that I was OK. The joyous atmosphere that had been in the air was quickly replaced by one of grim acceptance and resolution to go back out for another deployment if it was deemed necessary.

The festivities were quickly curtailed and although the crew tried to keep the mood up, it was a somber ship that headed into port. When a battle group returns home from a six-month deployment, there are a lot of activities planned for when the ships pull into port. Not this time.

Because of the severity of the attack, everyone coming to the pier to welcome the ships home had to pass through stringent security measures. No backpacks, no diaper bags, no large purses, or anything that could be used to cause others bodily harm was to be allowed on the base. Parents of small children were even discouraged from bringing strollers on the base. No media, no fanfare, and no big welcome home party for this battle group.

Instead, we were given an armed escort, as heavily manned boats skittered about the water, protecting the crew and the ships of the battle group. We had sharpshooters and anti-aircraft marksmen on the deck, flown out to the ship the night before, vigilantly watching to make sure nothing happened to jeopardize the safety of us all. The Coronado Bay Bridge was shut down to further protect the battle group from any harm that may have been attempted from motorists on the bridge.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the scene along the ocean banks as the ship pulled into the harbor. People were lined up and down the banks waving American flags as our sailors “manned the rails” and the voice of Lee Greenwood rang out, singing “...I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me. And I’ll gladly stand up, next to you and defend her still today. ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt, I love this land, God bless the USA...” I was never as proud of our American military personnel as I was right then.

I don’t think there was a dry eye among the spectators on the deck. I know mine weren’t...

Does this make me hate all Muslims? No, it does not. Does it make me blame all Muslims for the terror and savagery of that day? Again, no it does not. History is full of religious tyrants and extremists who believed that their way was the only way, and if you did not conform you died. Because it was so, and is so, doesn’t make it right. The Christian Crusades were no more “right” than the Islamic bombings and atrocities directed at those of other faiths, or even at sects within their own religion.

Do I believe they worship a different God than the God of my beliefs? No, but I do believe they see Him in a different light and have beliefs that I don’t agree with. It’s OK to not believe the same as everyone else. There are many religions that do not share the same belief system that I have, and that’s OK. It’s a freedom that God gave to us all - the right to decide for ourselves what we believe. God could have created us all to be of one mind and one belief, but He did not. I am sure that He sometimes wonders just what He was thinking when He gave us free will, but until He decides He’s had enough we will continue down the paths that we’ve created for ourselves.

Isaiah and Bluetooth

I have a Bluetooth system in my car so when I want to call someone I just have to push a button located beneath my rearview mirror. The computer doesn’t always recognize what I’m saying so it is sometimes very frustrating. I can say “Ron” and it thinks I’ve said “Kris” instead – which is no where near Ron.

Saturday afternoon I was driving home with Isaiah in the car and I wanted to call Amy. I pushed the Bluetooth button and Isaiah immediately said, “Who would you like to call? Kris? Calling Kris. Is that correct?” He had the same tone as the computer and actually very nearly got what the computer says correct. It was absolutely hysterical.

Retirement party

Thursday was Ron's official retirement party. He worked for Boeing/Spirit for 30 years and got a pretty good send-off from his co-workers. Even though he's been off work since the beginning of February, he hadn't really had the good-bye that he deserved.

I provided some pictures of Ron growing up, pictures of our wedding, him with the kids and with his grandkids, him with his dad and with his mom, and some of him with his first band. One of his co-workers put them all in a slide show with some little tidbits of funny things and then also added some photos of Ron doing various things at work and of his 25th work anniversary. It was very nice and he gave me a copy of it on a flash drive.

Someone also took pictures of the retirement party and added those to the flash drive. The group gave him a really nice mantle clock with his name and service dates engraved in it. The clock part is like a globe, with one side the clock and one side the picture of Ron's 25th anniversary at work. It is really nice and he appreciated it very much.

They had a nice lunch for him and a cake. All in all, it was a very nice send-off for him and he really appreciated it.

My poor Isaiah

Isaiah wants a dad. He doesn't really remember Juan but he knows that other kids have a dad (his mommy has one, too) and that he doesn't. Sometimes when he gets into trouble he cries, "Daddy. I want Daddy." We think that he's using that for two reasons - 1. he really does want "daddy" or 2. he's trying to deflect why he's getting into trouble away from himself. It could actually be a combination of them both.

We've started telling him that we don't know where Juan is (which is the truth), we don't have any way to contact him (again, the truth), and we don't have a telephone number for him (also the truth). We tell him that Juan lives in Texas but we don't know where exactly (truth). His own mother isn't sure where he lives and she doesn't have a phone number for him either. He got married sometime in the spring to a woman with seven children so I'm sure he's busy playing daddy for them. (They tried to call Juan's mom "grandma" and she told them she's not their grandma - she has one grandchild and his name is Isaiah. We thought that was very funny.)

Isaiah also loves to pretend that we (him, Amy, Ron, and I) are the Backyardigans. Isaiah is Pablo, Amy is Uniqua, Ron is Tyrone, and I'm Tasha. Juan is Austin but Austin isn't in too many of the Backyardigan shows so that's appropriate (him not being around much).

The other day Isaiah was in trouble. Lots of trouble. Over and over again kind of trouble. He just couldn't seem to settle down and do what he was told. I put him in time-out and he started to cry for Juan again. I picked him up and again explained that we could not get his dad and that his dad had no way to know that Isaiah was upset.

He was quiet for a few seconds and then he said, "I want Austin." The child is no dummy... He knew that I said to not ask for Juan again and he side-stepped that by asking for Austin instead. Smart boy.

We're praying for a Godly man to come into Amy's life and be the dad that Isaiah needs - the one that Juan should have been and isn't. We pray that he'll love Isaiah like he's his own and never for a minute let him think anything differently. That's the kind of man God gave my children and that's the kind of man I pray that God will do for my grandson. Of course, I want him to love my Amy just as much as Ron loves me.

Foot update

Ron went back to the orthopedic surgeon today and he was very, very pleased with the healing. The deep tunnel is totally gone and the healing from the surgery is going great. He doesn’t have to go back for 2 weeks, which is awesome.

We’re very happy with that news. He will see the infectious disease doctor on the 10th and I'm hoping that he says he no longer needs to see Ron. I think that at the very most he'll only want to see Ron once a month now. Ron's still getting Procrit injections each week so I'm still hauling the scooter. The ramp helps but it's still very taxing on the body to load and unload it several times a day. It is time consuming to tie it all down in such a way that it doesn't bounce off. Now that we've had some rain I also have to be concerned about getting it covered to protect the electronics of it.

I'll be very glad when this stint is over and life gets back to normal. What ever that is...

Back to work

Wow! That six week reprieve from work went by so fast that it seemed like I was only off for a few days. Of course, it didn't help that Ron was in the hospital for several days during it. I had planned on taking some time just for me to go get a facial, have my hair done, or do something - anything - that didn't involve anyone but me. But, I didn't make it.

I had mixed emotions about returning to work. I love my job and I work with a great bunch of people but I also would like to not have to work. I know that's not a feasible reality unless I win the lottery or something. Wait... I'd actually have to play the lottery first so that's not an option. {sigh} Maybe some other way but I doubt it.

God gave me the ability and the talent to work so it's my responsibility to use the gifts that He's given me. It was nice for some of the folks I work with to notice that I've lost a lot of weight. I'd lost most of this before my LOA but with seeing me every day, they didn't realize I had. I guess that not seeing me for so long made them realize I was smaller.

I'm down 35+ pounds and have another 35 or so to go. I'd like to lose 50 more but that is really stretching it and something that is not feasible.

I've been neglecting the blog lately. Not because I don't want to blog, but because I go to sit down and something else crops up. Then I forget about it and think I'll get to it later. Later has a habit of not showing up for a while. I had some really interesting and witty stuff to write that I've managed to forget. I'm thinking that my busy life may have something to do with that. Oh well... it will come back or it won't.