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Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Epiphanies...
Have you ever had an epiphany?
There are enlightenments in life and they are a good thing to be welcomed but epiphanies are unique.
Life is full of enlightenments. Like when you figure out that Cheez-Whiz is pretty much Velveeta in a handy, microwavable container. Or if you buy the 1/2 liter Mountain Dew it actually has 16.9 ounces which is just a fuzz more than you get in the regular 16 ounce bottle but for the same price. Those are enlightenments. They are good.
Epiphanies are something better, something more... Sometimes much, much more.
An epiphany can be likened to that time you found out that the one that you love is the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with. That is a good example.
My guess is that there could be bad epiphanies but I cannot think of an example of one. Let me know if you have had one that falls into the bad category. I would be interested in hearing about it.
Recently, while at work, I had an epiphany.
I remember the feeling clearly. I had been thinking about a problem that had plagued me for some time when I suddenly had the answer. No, not the answer to the problem that had been plaguing me but to a much deeper and much more long term issue.
The answer came simply and quietly. No bells. No whistles. It was as clear and as sensible as it could be.
This one issue was now resolved and would never bother me again. Life was good and was getting better.
It was an honest-to-goodness, Grade A, true blue epiphany.
And I cannot for the life of me remember what it was.
As I said, I can remember when it came to me. Even now I can conjure the same feeling as when it came to me but the substance is lost. I am not particularly troubled by this turn of events. This has happened before and expect that it will happen again unless I suddenly take the celestial dirt nap.
Trying to go the place that I was when it came to me doesn't help. Trying to remember what I was thinking doesn't help. Doing the hokey-pokey and shaking all about doesn't help. It has left me and I cannot fret about it.
These things happen and perhaps they happen for a reason. I cannot say one way or the other but happen they do and I can only hope that this one will happen again.
Because the next time I WILL write it down!
There are enlightenments in life and they are a good thing to be welcomed but epiphanies are unique.
Life is full of enlightenments. Like when you figure out that Cheez-Whiz is pretty much Velveeta in a handy, microwavable container. Or if you buy the 1/2 liter Mountain Dew it actually has 16.9 ounces which is just a fuzz more than you get in the regular 16 ounce bottle but for the same price. Those are enlightenments. They are good.
Epiphanies are something better, something more... Sometimes much, much more.
An epiphany can be likened to that time you found out that the one that you love is the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with. That is a good example.
My guess is that there could be bad epiphanies but I cannot think of an example of one. Let me know if you have had one that falls into the bad category. I would be interested in hearing about it.
Recently, while at work, I had an epiphany.
I remember the feeling clearly. I had been thinking about a problem that had plagued me for some time when I suddenly had the answer. No, not the answer to the problem that had been plaguing me but to a much deeper and much more long term issue.
The answer came simply and quietly. No bells. No whistles. It was as clear and as sensible as it could be.
This one issue was now resolved and would never bother me again. Life was good and was getting better.
It was an honest-to-goodness, Grade A, true blue epiphany.
And I cannot for the life of me remember what it was.
As I said, I can remember when it came to me. Even now I can conjure the same feeling as when it came to me but the substance is lost. I am not particularly troubled by this turn of events. This has happened before and expect that it will happen again unless I suddenly take the celestial dirt nap.
Trying to go the place that I was when it came to me doesn't help. Trying to remember what I was thinking doesn't help. Doing the hokey-pokey and shaking all about doesn't help. It has left me and I cannot fret about it.
These things happen and perhaps they happen for a reason. I cannot say one way or the other but happen they do and I can only hope that this one will happen again.
Because the next time I WILL write it down!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
The life of the undead...
Most folks know that I work third shift. I have worked third shift for most of seventeen years straight. You would think that I would be getting used to it by now but the truth is that you never get used to it. What most folks don't know is what working third shift is like.
Stand by for a peek into the life of the undead.
Many of the folks that I have worked with over the years have moved on to a more normal existence of a day shift job or at least a job that allows you to sleep at night. I could probably move on myself but working in the graveyard allows me to - mostly - fly under the radar at work and at home it allows me to do things during the day and get a few hours of sleep before heading off.
The typical day is as follows ( we will start when I wake ):
It is somewhere between 4 and 6 PM as I get out of bed. I usually don't get up to an alarm clock because there is usually no need to.
After the obligatory butt scratching and trip to the potty room, I head downstairs to check on my beautiful wife ( she should be home by now ). After checking in with her, it is time to figure out whether to eat breakfast, dinner or something else.
We shall say that breakfast at home is the chosen option. I dig out the mini wheats, Splenda and the organic 1 % milk. Thirty seconds of heating my cereal in the microwave and then I eat my breakfast as I catch the evening news.
There are many times when breakfast will not be the first meal. If we head off to someone else's house then I will be having dinner for breakfast. Kind of strange but you get used to it... mostly.
An aside here about meals. Most folks on third eat on a schedule. You have breakfast at about a certain time, lunch ate a certain time and so on. Schedule is important because on third your circadian rythms are so far afield from what is normal your poor body has no clue when to eat, sleep or whatever. So you eat on a schedule regardless of whether you are hungry. Even after this long I don't know what to eat and when.
With breakfast under the belt, it is time to make myself somewhat presentable. Enough about that.
Whatever happens in the evening ( my morning ) is whatever needs to happen. Sometimes home stuff, sometimes out & about, just whatever.
It is time to get ready for work. I get dressed and head out. After arriving at work at about 9:40 PM, I stop on at the cafeteria and get a jug-o-mountain dew. That will help me stay awake and hold me over for a few hours until 12:30 AM which will be time for lunch. Because the cafeteria won't be open until 2:30AM I settle in for a frozen meal and maybe a chicken finger if Charles happens to bring in a box of leftovers from his store.
Eating at 12:30, which is a fifteen minute break, allows me to nap at my 45 minute lunch if I need to. I usually don't nap, I am usually too busy.
At about 5:30 AM the end is in sight and I head off to the cafe once again. I will have a cup of tea and maybe a biscuit. No real reason to eat as I am not really hungry but hey, eating at 5:30 is the norm and why stop now. The folks that sleep at night are making there way in and it provides a relaxing time to socialize. They tell us anything happened in the real world overnight and we clue them in on work happenings and what flavor of hornet's nest that they are walking in to.
You are probably getting up and I am now heading to the house where I will perform my morning chores. Monkey around on the computer for a bit as I listen to talk radio. Then about 9 AM I will head off to bed. I curl up with ear plugs and my Tempurpedic sleep mask which, but the way, is one of the greatest gifts that I ever received. Thanks Nanny Lou! With the sound and light blocked out I will be down for another 7 to 8 hours.
Then it starts all over again.
The weekends present difficulties as well. If it is necessary to work one day on the weekend I generally go ahead and work the other day as well because it is just too hard to switch back to 'day shift' for just one day.
I know that it is hard on the family but that is the way it is. Life is hard sometimes, you just deal with it.
I don't want to make it sound that I have the sword of Damocles hovering above my head at all times. That is not the case at all. Life is good. Life is always good... it is just a bit fuzzy at times.
It could best be summed up by this picture...
Stand by for a peek into the life of the undead.
Many of the folks that I have worked with over the years have moved on to a more normal existence of a day shift job or at least a job that allows you to sleep at night. I could probably move on myself but working in the graveyard allows me to - mostly - fly under the radar at work and at home it allows me to do things during the day and get a few hours of sleep before heading off.
The typical day is as follows ( we will start when I wake ):
It is somewhere between 4 and 6 PM as I get out of bed. I usually don't get up to an alarm clock because there is usually no need to.
After the obligatory butt scratching and trip to the potty room, I head downstairs to check on my beautiful wife ( she should be home by now ). After checking in with her, it is time to figure out whether to eat breakfast, dinner or something else.
We shall say that breakfast at home is the chosen option. I dig out the mini wheats, Splenda and the organic 1 % milk. Thirty seconds of heating my cereal in the microwave and then I eat my breakfast as I catch the evening news.
There are many times when breakfast will not be the first meal. If we head off to someone else's house then I will be having dinner for breakfast. Kind of strange but you get used to it... mostly.
An aside here about meals. Most folks on third eat on a schedule. You have breakfast at about a certain time, lunch ate a certain time and so on. Schedule is important because on third your circadian rythms are so far afield from what is normal your poor body has no clue when to eat, sleep or whatever. So you eat on a schedule regardless of whether you are hungry. Even after this long I don't know what to eat and when.
With breakfast under the belt, it is time to make myself somewhat presentable. Enough about that.
Whatever happens in the evening ( my morning ) is whatever needs to happen. Sometimes home stuff, sometimes out & about, just whatever.
It is time to get ready for work. I get dressed and head out. After arriving at work at about 9:40 PM, I stop on at the cafeteria and get a jug-o-mountain dew. That will help me stay awake and hold me over for a few hours until 12:30 AM which will be time for lunch. Because the cafeteria won't be open until 2:30AM I settle in for a frozen meal and maybe a chicken finger if Charles happens to bring in a box of leftovers from his store.
Eating at 12:30, which is a fifteen minute break, allows me to nap at my 45 minute lunch if I need to. I usually don't nap, I am usually too busy.
At about 5:30 AM the end is in sight and I head off to the cafe once again. I will have a cup of tea and maybe a biscuit. No real reason to eat as I am not really hungry but hey, eating at 5:30 is the norm and why stop now. The folks that sleep at night are making there way in and it provides a relaxing time to socialize. They tell us anything happened in the real world overnight and we clue them in on work happenings and what flavor of hornet's nest that they are walking in to.
You are probably getting up and I am now heading to the house where I will perform my morning chores. Monkey around on the computer for a bit as I listen to talk radio. Then about 9 AM I will head off to bed. I curl up with ear plugs and my Tempurpedic sleep mask which, but the way, is one of the greatest gifts that I ever received. Thanks Nanny Lou! With the sound and light blocked out I will be down for another 7 to 8 hours.
Then it starts all over again.
The weekends present difficulties as well. If it is necessary to work one day on the weekend I generally go ahead and work the other day as well because it is just too hard to switch back to 'day shift' for just one day.
I know that it is hard on the family but that is the way it is. Life is hard sometimes, you just deal with it.
I don't want to make it sound that I have the sword of Damocles hovering above my head at all times. That is not the case at all. Life is good. Life is always good... it is just a bit fuzzy at times.
It could best be summed up by this picture...
Friday, August 31, 2007
I hasn't forgot to be posting...
Just a quick note to let you know that I will be posting soon.
In the time between now and then, head off to ICANHASCHEEZBURGER for some
fun cat pix. You gotta love them fur babies!
Have a great weekend!
In the time between now and then, head off to ICANHASCHEEZBURGER for some
fun cat pix. You gotta love them fur babies!
Have a great weekend!
Saturday, August 4, 2007
A cool flyover...
Living near the airport can have it's perks and seeing vintage planes flying over is one of them. This weekend the Liberty Belle, a B-17 Flying Fortress from WWII, was in town and the owners were allowing folks to reserve half hour flights.
As it happened today, planes landing on runway 22 fly over or east of our subdivision. When planes fly in they don't generally make much noise so when there is an odd sounding engine I try to run out to see what it might be. I have seen a few cool planes fly over but today I was in for a special treat when I heard large sounding radial engines. I ran out back to see a large-winged aircraft lumbering toward the airport. Then I proceeded to scare Cherri and all of the cats half to death as I yelled for her to come and see the plane.
We stood there in awe as the plane seemed to just hang in the air as it headed into Bluegrass Field. By the time we spotted it was too late to alert the evil neighbors to the east but I remembered that they were making multiple flights today and that we might get another chance.
An hour or so later I heard the same engines again so I jumped up, grabbed the phone and the camera, called Adam (evil neighbors to the east) and ran out the door just in time to catch this picture...
We don't have one of the whiz-bang cameras but it did pretty good. You can see the tail colors and the machine gun turret in the front. You can catch an article in the August 3, 2007 Lexington Herald Leader or click here.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Why only 1.6?
This is a rant. Pure and simple. My morning was interrupted and I am going to vent.
Today is the start of a three day weekend for me. Nothing special planned, just going to do some odds-n-ends. Maybe catch a movie or if I could get one or both of my brothers to call me, I might head up and visit them.
I get home, do my morning chores rest a bit and head off for a few hours of sleep before getting up to meet Cherri at the audiologist at 2:00.
I didn't plan on turning on the computer. I was going to catch up on some of the tv shows that I have recorded - the really boring stuff that I won't watch when Cherri is around. Then it happened... the intestinal pain. You know what I mean and don't act like you don't. I head up the stairs, stop by and snatch up my book of easy sudoku and head off to the little room next to the shower...
A bit of backgound here... For those who knew me before Cherri know that I grew up with outdoor plumbing. To me, a good flush was a scoop of lime that you threw down the hole when you got done. It was cold in the winter, hot in the summer and you always had to be mindful of spiders, wasps and the occasional snake. I didn't mind them too much as long as that tossed the requisite amount of lime when they got done. Live and let live and all of that rot. When I got married, I moved on up to the flush toilet like civilized folks. Ain't I somethin'!
The water flush jobs weren't too bad. It was a step up and you didn't have to worry about appendages being stung or bitten and a snake would only cause you to run screaming into the living room instead of the back yard. The backyard dash was always embarrassing because, well just because. Flushing was easy to get used to and it wasn't long before I wasn't reaching for the scoop of lime instead of flushing. Old habits die hard.
We all have some troubles with flushing at least occasionally or else there would be no plunger market. At least until a couple of years ago if you plugged up the toilet you had reason to be proud - a guy thing - and you made no quiet matter of getting out the plunger and getting after it. (And you know what IT is and don't pretend that you don't.)
Not anymore.
In 1995 there was a change in legislation that would eventually bring about the frustration and angst of this post. The bill H.R. 776 (National Energy Policy Act) was passed and part of it's mandate was the 1.6 gallon per flush toilet.
Designed to save water (the 'old' units were a blissful 3 gpf) the 1.6 gpf units were to be a panacea for environmentalist and tree-huggers nationwide.
And here we are. Or rather here I am. With my book of sudoku. With a happy feeling knowing that in just a few minutes I will be watching a really cool show about how the Great Lakes formed that will fill my head with all kinds of geeky stuff that doesn't mean diddly but that is fun to recite on cue. The Science Channel - you have got to love it, it's in the rules. Realizing that because of some communist-pinko-tree hugger that hates my SUV I am going to have to be mindful of my bodily actions and the response time of my 1.6 gallon sippy cup and therefore I wait. I wait for just the right time. Not too early... If I flush too early I am guaranteed a trip for the plunger.
Wait... wait for it... THERE! The timing is immaculate and there are no problems. Or are there?
No familiar glug glug glug. Nothing. I don't even have to look as I head off to the repository of the blessed plunger. Then I have to turn and look. I am a maintenance man and I have to know which tool I need. Can I get by with the sink plunger (light duty) or will I have to get the big, black toilet plunger (medium to heavy duty)? Turning back I am disheartened to know that the toilet plunger is going to have a rough go of it. No more details will be forthcoming about the event other than to say that the 1.6 gpf just cost me at least a half dozen flushes when one good 3 gallon flush would have done the trick.
10 gallons versus 3 gallons. I am not a rocket scientist but I can see that the new legislation is not saving me money, time or water. The tree-hugging moonbat liberals will look at this and see that I (and others like me) am abusing the right that they gave me to use only 1.6 gallon per flush and they will take that away from me.
We will move to government mandated outhouses before you know it.
Today is the start of a three day weekend for me. Nothing special planned, just going to do some odds-n-ends. Maybe catch a movie or if I could get one or both of my brothers to call me, I might head up and visit them.
I get home, do my morning chores rest a bit and head off for a few hours of sleep before getting up to meet Cherri at the audiologist at 2:00.
I didn't plan on turning on the computer. I was going to catch up on some of the tv shows that I have recorded - the really boring stuff that I won't watch when Cherri is around. Then it happened... the intestinal pain. You know what I mean and don't act like you don't. I head up the stairs, stop by and snatch up my book of easy sudoku and head off to the little room next to the shower...
A bit of backgound here... For those who knew me before Cherri know that I grew up with outdoor plumbing. To me, a good flush was a scoop of lime that you threw down the hole when you got done. It was cold in the winter, hot in the summer and you always had to be mindful of spiders, wasps and the occasional snake. I didn't mind them too much as long as that tossed the requisite amount of lime when they got done. Live and let live and all of that rot. When I got married, I moved on up to the flush toilet like civilized folks. Ain't I somethin'!
The water flush jobs weren't too bad. It was a step up and you didn't have to worry about appendages being stung or bitten and a snake would only cause you to run screaming into the living room instead of the back yard. The backyard dash was always embarrassing because, well just because. Flushing was easy to get used to and it wasn't long before I wasn't reaching for the scoop of lime instead of flushing. Old habits die hard.
We all have some troubles with flushing at least occasionally or else there would be no plunger market. At least until a couple of years ago if you plugged up the toilet you had reason to be proud - a guy thing - and you made no quiet matter of getting out the plunger and getting after it. (And you know what IT is and don't pretend that you don't.)
Not anymore.
In 1995 there was a change in legislation that would eventually bring about the frustration and angst of this post. The bill H.R. 776 (National Energy Policy Act) was passed and part of it's mandate was the 1.6 gallon per flush toilet.
Designed to save water (the 'old' units were a blissful 3 gpf) the 1.6 gpf units were to be a panacea for environmentalist and tree-huggers nationwide.
And here we are. Or rather here I am. With my book of sudoku. With a happy feeling knowing that in just a few minutes I will be watching a really cool show about how the Great Lakes formed that will fill my head with all kinds of geeky stuff that doesn't mean diddly but that is fun to recite on cue. The Science Channel - you have got to love it, it's in the rules. Realizing that because of some communist-pinko-tree hugger that hates my SUV I am going to have to be mindful of my bodily actions and the response time of my 1.6 gallon sippy cup and therefore I wait. I wait for just the right time. Not too early... If I flush too early I am guaranteed a trip for the plunger.
Wait... wait for it... THERE! The timing is immaculate and there are no problems. Or are there?
No familiar glug glug glug. Nothing. I don't even have to look as I head off to the repository of the blessed plunger. Then I have to turn and look. I am a maintenance man and I have to know which tool I need. Can I get by with the sink plunger (light duty) or will I have to get the big, black toilet plunger (medium to heavy duty)? Turning back I am disheartened to know that the toilet plunger is going to have a rough go of it. No more details will be forthcoming about the event other than to say that the 1.6 gpf just cost me at least a half dozen flushes when one good 3 gallon flush would have done the trick.
10 gallons versus 3 gallons. I am not a rocket scientist but I can see that the new legislation is not saving me money, time or water. The tree-hugging moonbat liberals will look at this and see that I (and others like me) am abusing the right that they gave me to use only 1.6 gallon per flush and they will take that away from me.
We will move to government mandated outhouses before you know it.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Jackin' in...
Cherri and I were standing outside a few evenings ago when she asked me, What's that sound? She doesn't ask that very often and I always get a kick out of it when she does.
I had to ask her to describe what she is hearing - dumb question, I know - but I am hearing so much that I have to help her weed out the extraneous stuff. After a few tries she described it as an intermittent/rhythmic sound. I told her to nod her head as she heard it. Nod nod nod... nod nod... nothing ... nod nod nod... nod nod... nothing. I pointed to the rooftop of the house diagonally across the street from us at a small bird that was calling out for only my punkin' to hear!
Not only was Cherri hearing a bird, she was hearing one that was some distance away and she did it with remarkable clarity! That's my punkin'!
More new stuff...
We finally got around to pulling out the gear so Cherri could 'jack in' with her iPod. With her implant comes the necessary gadgetry to allow her to plug her iPod directly into her brain! Well not exactly, but it sounds cool anyway.
With the external unit is an clip on earpiece that has a very tiny jack that, with the appropriate cabling, any device that has line out capabilities to be plugged right into her implant allowing her to hear recorded music, voices, etc..
Here she is enjoying her Huey Lewis and The News!
Cherri isn't bashful about saying that the music, like everything else, isn't quite there just yet. She can't make it all out and it has no depth. But her brain will continue to re-learn all the groovy stuff that she has been missing.
Patience is the watchword and time and practice will make things better. Cherri is doing a great job and her hearing tests indicate that things are progressing at a good pace. Keep her in your prayers as she needs all the help and patience that she can get.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Are you sure it wasn't a LEMUR?
This last weekend we went up to the Cincinnati Zoo to celebrate Father's Day with the Farleys. We had a grand time wandering about showing our resident turd-muffins all of the cool animals that they had only seen on television and in books before now. They were at least amused ( the kids ) and were not the least bit cranky. Keegan got to see her favorite, the crocodile, which we found quite by accident in the Manatee exhibit. Funny thing is that there were no sea cows in the exhibit - go figure.
Cherri and Cynthia did see a flock ( gaggle - peck - cluster? ) of lemurs. Now lemurs, generally speaking, don't really pop up on anyone's zoo radar but they certainly made these two folks' day. You see, there is a long running tale from an unnamed niece -TRACY- who lives in Florida and who is known to relay a funny story, the punch line of which is: Are you sure it wasn't a LEMUR?
In her honor I will post this rather poor picture of a LEMUR!
And yes we are sure that the sign said that they were lemurs.
Cute booger isn't it!
On the trip home I was dialing around the AM radio to find the news at the top of the hour when Cherri started repeating some of what was being said! She wasn't able to catch enough to make sense of what was being said but she caught lots of snippets!
She got pretty good at phone numbers and bits of the conversation. The cool thing was that, because of the type of show that we were listening to, she could not just 'figure out' what was being said. She had to take each word as an individual item which means SHE ACTUALLY HEARD !!! Love my baby, I am so proud of her!
Hear on girl!
Cherri and Cynthia did see a flock ( gaggle - peck - cluster? ) of lemurs. Now lemurs, generally speaking, don't really pop up on anyone's zoo radar but they certainly made these two folks' day. You see, there is a long running tale from an unnamed niece -TRACY- who lives in Florida and who is known to relay a funny story, the punch line of which is: Are you sure it wasn't a LEMUR?
In her honor I will post this rather poor picture of a LEMUR!
And yes we are sure that the sign said that they were lemurs.
Cute booger isn't it!
On the trip home I was dialing around the AM radio to find the news at the top of the hour when Cherri started repeating some of what was being said! She wasn't able to catch enough to make sense of what was being said but she caught lots of snippets!
She got pretty good at phone numbers and bits of the conversation. The cool thing was that, because of the type of show that we were listening to, she could not just 'figure out' what was being said. She had to take each word as an individual item which means SHE ACTUALLY HEARD !!! Love my baby, I am so proud of her!
Hear on girl!
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Behold, the power of CHEESE!
Occasionally I get migraines. I can't help it because it is just the way I am wired ( or mis-wired ). Last night while at work I had one. It is usually no problem because I keep my Excedrin Migraine tablets in my lunch box.
If it is always good to be prepared then last night was not good.
While in the throes of the migraine onset, I head to my trusty pill box only to find that I precisely one half the dosage required to re-attach my head. Not good. Not good at all. The night just got much, much longer.
I take my one half dosage in the hopes that I can survive the rest of the shift.
I have long since learned what to shy away from and what to get next to while having a migraine. Unfortunately, where I am and what my needs are one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase. Life is starting to suck and suck big.
Unlike most folks that experience migraines, I crave sound to help alleviate the pain. I guess it occupies my throbbing head. The kind of music that I really, really need is not here at work. In fact at this time of night ( deep into third shift ) there is no music on the plant wide system and my contraband FM radio picks up only country and top 40 and neither of them very well.
No music means no respite from the pain until the medicine kicks in. So I decide I must walk and walk I do.
For those who do not know, I work in that little car plant on the north side of Georgetown. The biggest part of the plant is one hundred forty four acres under the one roof that covers my aching head. That is one roof and there are several roofs from which to pick. That means lots of room to walk. Walking passes the time as my head tries to decide to completely detach or just plain explode. Luckily it does neither and after a while I feel the caffeine hitting my system which means that the pain should start to subside soon.
As I walk along the pain begins to subside. Then the cravings kick in. Did I happen to mention that I also get strange food cravings when I have a migraine? They usually hit as the pain begins to pass just as they did tonight.
I finally make it to the end of the shift. I have some running to do on the way home so with my intense cravings I must exercise some restraint while walking the expansive aisles of the local Walmart. No need to buy five pounds of beef jerky and a gallon of chocolate milk if I don't really need it. I get most of the stuff on the list and head home.
One of the first things that I do when I get home is to give Joe-Dog his morning pill that I wrap in a half of a slice of American cheese. The other half comprises part of, what for me is, a midnight snack.
After giving Joey his little daily helper pill I begin to put away the fridge stuff and I spy a small portion of Monterey Jack cheese. I decide that would be a nice thing to nibble on until I stumble on something better.
In short order the groceries have been put away and my head is feeling much better but now I need something crunchy from the snack department.
Snack crackers would hit the spot and I just happen to have three boxes to choose from. The one I choose is the closest to me. I have chosen it because... well, it is the one closest to me and my body is deficient in crunch foods. As I happily munch away I happen to notice that the crackers are Mozzarella and Sun-Dried Tomato flavor. Good! I will have more cheese but with a vegetable flavor on a cracker.
In the unlikely case that you have not been keeping count, I have had three different types of cheeses within the half hour that I arrived home. Life is good. I just hope that I have some fiber pills to take before I head off to bed. Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal would be better 'cause it tastes good while keeping me regular.
I have now been sitting here at the computer for an hour updating the blog while my head gets back to mostly OK but while I also try to burn off a substantial caffeine buzz. I have my music ( Joe Satriani - Flying In A Blue Dream ) and life is much more survivable at this point. I may even be able to sleep soon.
The sun is shining into the bedroom and the weather outside is warm - perfect sleeping weather. I hope for restful sleep with good dreams that contain cheese and snappy music.
If it is always good to be prepared then last night was not good.
While in the throes of the migraine onset, I head to my trusty pill box only to find that I precisely one half the dosage required to re-attach my head. Not good. Not good at all. The night just got much, much longer.
I take my one half dosage in the hopes that I can survive the rest of the shift.
I have long since learned what to shy away from and what to get next to while having a migraine. Unfortunately, where I am and what my needs are one hundred and eighty degrees out of phase. Life is starting to suck and suck big.
Unlike most folks that experience migraines, I crave sound to help alleviate the pain. I guess it occupies my throbbing head. The kind of music that I really, really need is not here at work. In fact at this time of night ( deep into third shift ) there is no music on the plant wide system and my contraband FM radio picks up only country and top 40 and neither of them very well.
No music means no respite from the pain until the medicine kicks in. So I decide I must walk and walk I do.
For those who do not know, I work in that little car plant on the north side of Georgetown. The biggest part of the plant is one hundred forty four acres under the one roof that covers my aching head. That is one roof and there are several roofs from which to pick. That means lots of room to walk. Walking passes the time as my head tries to decide to completely detach or just plain explode. Luckily it does neither and after a while I feel the caffeine hitting my system which means that the pain should start to subside soon.
As I walk along the pain begins to subside. Then the cravings kick in. Did I happen to mention that I also get strange food cravings when I have a migraine? They usually hit as the pain begins to pass just as they did tonight.
I finally make it to the end of the shift. I have some running to do on the way home so with my intense cravings I must exercise some restraint while walking the expansive aisles of the local Walmart. No need to buy five pounds of beef jerky and a gallon of chocolate milk if I don't really need it. I get most of the stuff on the list and head home.
One of the first things that I do when I get home is to give Joe-Dog his morning pill that I wrap in a half of a slice of American cheese. The other half comprises part of, what for me is, a midnight snack.
After giving Joey his little daily helper pill I begin to put away the fridge stuff and I spy a small portion of Monterey Jack cheese. I decide that would be a nice thing to nibble on until I stumble on something better.
In short order the groceries have been put away and my head is feeling much better but now I need something crunchy from the snack department.
Snack crackers would hit the spot and I just happen to have three boxes to choose from. The one I choose is the closest to me. I have chosen it because... well, it is the one closest to me and my body is deficient in crunch foods. As I happily munch away I happen to notice that the crackers are Mozzarella and Sun-Dried Tomato flavor. Good! I will have more cheese but with a vegetable flavor on a cracker.
In the unlikely case that you have not been keeping count, I have had three different types of cheeses within the half hour that I arrived home. Life is good. I just hope that I have some fiber pills to take before I head off to bed. Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal would be better 'cause it tastes good while keeping me regular.
I have now been sitting here at the computer for an hour updating the blog while my head gets back to mostly OK but while I also try to burn off a substantial caffeine buzz. I have my music ( Joe Satriani - Flying In A Blue Dream ) and life is much more survivable at this point. I may even be able to sleep soon.
The sun is shining into the bedroom and the weather outside is warm - perfect sleeping weather. I hope for restful sleep with good dreams that contain cheese and snappy music.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
This shadow brought to you by the letter "L"...
Well, we survived our most recent excursion to Las Vegas. Barely but we did survive.
First, there was the mad cup bomber at the Luxor - right down the strip - and then there was the massive fire that took out what amounted to a whole city block in area. That mixed with the normal sin and debauchery that is prevalent in that part of Nevada and we were lucky to see central Kentucky again!
But we are back and have the pictures to prove it!
The Bellagio Hotel (where we didn't stay)
The Bellagio fountains are cranking up...
Who is that cutie pie?
The second day of our week long Vegas excursion we were staying at the Planet Hollywood (the old Aladdin). We had gone out for our 4 mile run/walk/wait for the traffic lights/walk/dodge traffic/run in the morning and then we got ready to head out to the pool.
At the Planet Hollywood the pools are on the sixth floor on the side of the hotel facing the Strip and the sun rises on the opposite side of the building. Hence, the sun doesn't get to the pool until about 10:30AM. We are all layed out and freezin' our butts off because even though the temperature was in the nineties the week before we arrived, global warming has dictated that the temperature should now be in the upper 60's. I guess we were being punished for not purchasing carbon offsets from Al Gore's company.
Anyway, I am all kicked back pretending that I am warm and that I do this all the time (even though the pasty white skin covered with goose pimples was a dead giveaway to the opposite). I am gazing at the part of the pool deck that is now lit and enjoying some warmth (that would be the part that we are not on) and I begin commencing to cipher just how long it would take for the sun to reach our chairs. No matter what number I come up with would likely be wrong but since I told my guess to no one I can pretend to be right one no one is the wiser.
I am ruminating of just how tall the hotel is, the angle of the sun, how fast the earth is turning (or how fast the sun is moving if you are a flat earther) to try to come up with how long it will be until Cherri and I are basking in the rays of the southern Nevada sun. I come up with a figure of a half hour give or take 30 minutes and I begin to wait to see how close I am.
I read or look around or do whatever and now my thoughts have wandered off to something equally as geeky when I realize that we are surrounded by sunshine. We are not IN the sunshine but we are surrounded by it. I am now somewhat confused by this and I decide to do the one thing that I have been told by people that are concerned with preserving my eyesight tell me not to do - ever - .
I look up. That would be at the sun. At the very sun that is shining all around us but not on us. That is when I see them, the sun and the "L" that it is now firmly ensconced behind. The "L" in the Planet of the Planet Hollywood that we are staying in. The very "L"that is keeping us in the dark while the rest of the word allows all those around us to shed the towels that they were using for blankets up until just a few minutes ago.
Under normal conditions I would insert a good natured "life sucks" in here but we were in Vegas and that made life good, not sucky.
Although it seemed like an eternity, albeit a brief eternity, the shadow finally moved off to annoy some other pasty white, goose pimple skinned tourist and we got our share of the toasty, low seventies weather that we had hoped for.
We didn't spend long at the pool however, because it was windy and even though the sun was finally shining brightly, the temperature plus the wind chill encouraged us to head back to the room and get ready to head down to the local P. F. Changs for some lettuce wraps and szechuan beef.
Life is indeed good.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Nothin' but fur babies!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
It has been a good day...
Wednesday was a good day for Cherri and me. We went to the Audiologist for the 'two week after turn on tweak of the software' which is normal and expected for implanted folk. I don't actually remember if the software was tweaked or not but we got to take part in some tests that proved that the implant was alive and well and firing on all cylinders.
A bit of background may be in order so here goes.
Before and after the implant was, well, implanted, Cherri went through large batteries of tests. I will mention only a few of them here.
In one test was the Audiologist reciting at random a list of six two syllable words.
GEEKSPEAK: These words are called spondee words and consist of words that equal meter and equal stress on the syllables. Words such as baseball, hotdog and ice cream.
Before the test started she (the Audiologist) went over the list by saying each word. She would then place a knitting hoop covered in black cloth over her face and would begin to recite the words. Cherri would then relay the words back. At the initial turn on, Cherri was able to pick up exactly zero words. This was not unexpected. When the test was performed Wednesday, Cherri was able to get six of seven words. FANTASTIC! It may be a simple test but the results were profound! I was really impressed by my punkin'!
The next test was a Ling six sound test.
GEEKSPEAK : A Ling six sound test is used to isolated phonemes to target low, middle and high frequency sounds. The sounds are: [m], [ah], [oo], [ee], [sh] and [s].
The Audiologist used the same snappy black hoop in this test too. In the initial turn on test, Cherri got either zero or one correct, I cannot remember exactly (I am sure that she will fill me in later.) At Wednesday's test, Cherri got four of six. A respectable showing on any day but the exciting part was that she got the [sh] and the [s] sounds! These were sounds that Cherri has not heard in decades!
We then went to the sound chamber to test Cherri's response to different frequencies. She passed with flying colors! The Audiologist came in and showed us the resulting audiogram and compared it to the results before the implant. We were stunned! The results of the tests showed a basically flat response across the frequency used by speech. Cherri's normal hearing results in what is called a "corner audiogram". It simply means that her hearing ability is confined to the lower left part of the audiogram. She can hear up to about 850 hertz with some help but beyond that there is nothing and no amount of amplification would help.
All that gibberish means the implant is picking up lots of groovy sounds and sending it to her brain. She was given some tools by the Audiologist to help her start to discriminate all of these new sensations into usable words, phrases and sounds. Time is the watchword here. It will take time for her to make good use of the implant and no amount of poking, prodding or impatience will help. It will come on it's own in it's good time.
Life is good! Let's head to the beach!
A bit of background may be in order so here goes.
Before and after the implant was, well, implanted, Cherri went through large batteries of tests. I will mention only a few of them here.
In one test was the Audiologist reciting at random a list of six two syllable words.
GEEKSPEAK: These words are called spondee words and consist of words that equal meter and equal stress on the syllables. Words such as baseball, hotdog and ice cream.
Before the test started she (the Audiologist) went over the list by saying each word. She would then place a knitting hoop covered in black cloth over her face and would begin to recite the words. Cherri would then relay the words back. At the initial turn on, Cherri was able to pick up exactly zero words. This was not unexpected. When the test was performed Wednesday, Cherri was able to get six of seven words. FANTASTIC! It may be a simple test but the results were profound! I was really impressed by my punkin'!
The next test was a Ling six sound test.
GEEKSPEAK : A Ling six sound test is used to isolated phonemes to target low, middle and high frequency sounds. The sounds are: [m], [ah], [oo], [ee], [sh] and [s].
The Audiologist used the same snappy black hoop in this test too. In the initial turn on test, Cherri got either zero or one correct, I cannot remember exactly (I am sure that she will fill me in later.) At Wednesday's test, Cherri got four of six. A respectable showing on any day but the exciting part was that she got the [sh] and the [s] sounds! These were sounds that Cherri has not heard in decades!
We then went to the sound chamber to test Cherri's response to different frequencies. She passed with flying colors! The Audiologist came in and showed us the resulting audiogram and compared it to the results before the implant. We were stunned! The results of the tests showed a basically flat response across the frequency used by speech. Cherri's normal hearing results in what is called a "corner audiogram". It simply means that her hearing ability is confined to the lower left part of the audiogram. She can hear up to about 850 hertz with some help but beyond that there is nothing and no amount of amplification would help.
All that gibberish means the implant is picking up lots of groovy sounds and sending it to her brain. She was given some tools by the Audiologist to help her start to discriminate all of these new sensations into usable words, phrases and sounds. Time is the watchword here. It will take time for her to make good use of the implant and no amount of poking, prodding or impatience will help. It will come on it's own in it's good time.
Life is good! Let's head to the beach!
Sunday, April 8, 2007
What this blog is all about...
I am not much of a blog reader.
I have to admit that I am old and getting somewhat older most every day. Some days I age more than others but it all seems to average out. Being my age makes me want to have a piece of paper with the print and the images on it. That way I can move it about so it can hit the sweet spot on my bifocals without craning at unnatural angles such as I would at a monitor trying to catch enough pixels to make sense. I will read blogs of friends but that is about it. It takes time too much time for my neck to recover.
I am not much of blog writer either. This is my first blog and I will likely spend most of my time spell checking on Dictionary.com and rewording my sentences so that I may give the appearance of being a reasonably sane person. I would settle for any flavor of sane but reasonably sane is my goal. I have big aspirations in life.
This blog mostly will be about my experiences with my wife and her 'condition'.
My wife and good friend Bionic Fruit recently underwent surgery for a cochlear implant.
She is a saint pure and simple. She has never once said an ill word about anyone, anything or about her lot in life. She married me some twenty four years ago and has suffered mighty indignations since. I do believe that she saw me simply as a charity case in need of primping and preening so that I might become sociably acceptable. I also believe that she misunderstood my marriage proposal as a question to whether she needed another foot massage or not. In any event she said yes and here we are. All that being said, I married up and I am forever grateful to her for that.
She began to lose her hearing as a young person and has spent most of her adult life profoundly hearing impaired. That is not to say that she is totally deaf. She hears naturally only frequencies of about 850 Hertz and below. That isn't really enough of the sound spectrum to derive intelligent conversation. Maybe that is why we seem to get along... Anyway, the consonants in the English language ( The part that imparts the most meaning to the words ) lie in the sound spectrum well above her highest perceived sound. That said, still she does remarkably well -better than most- in the day to day world. She is an accomplished lip-reader and can understand most of her friends on the telephone.
Life sucks but you can learn to adapt.
Back to the cochlear implant. -Short version- Hearing bad, hearing aids don't help, cochlear implant might, therefore cochlear implant it shall be. And so it is. The implant surgery was successful in that the implant was installed and she she survived it. Beyond that is where we are today.
The implant was 'switched on' almost three weeks ago and she is deep into the learning process that it takes to learn how to hear again using electronic input instead of acoustic input. Everyone that she converses with that has had the implant tells her that it will take time and lots of it to get to a level of reliability even remotely close to natural hearing. Even now she is listening to children's books on tape with the accompanying books to re-learn the simplest sounds and forge the new pathways in her brain and yet she does not once complain. Did I mention that she is a saint?
In the coming weeks and months the squeaks, beeps, boops and other noises that she hears will begin to work it's way into being intelligible. My hope is that when she can understand what I am saying that she won't kick me to the curb. Maybe I should offer her another foot massage...
I have to admit that I am old and getting somewhat older most every day. Some days I age more than others but it all seems to average out. Being my age makes me want to have a piece of paper with the print and the images on it. That way I can move it about so it can hit the sweet spot on my bifocals without craning at unnatural angles such as I would at a monitor trying to catch enough pixels to make sense. I will read blogs of friends but that is about it. It takes time too much time for my neck to recover.
I am not much of blog writer either. This is my first blog and I will likely spend most of my time spell checking on Dictionary.com and rewording my sentences so that I may give the appearance of being a reasonably sane person. I would settle for any flavor of sane but reasonably sane is my goal. I have big aspirations in life.
This blog mostly will be about my experiences with my wife and her 'condition'.
My wife and good friend Bionic Fruit recently underwent surgery for a cochlear implant.
She is a saint pure and simple. She has never once said an ill word about anyone, anything or about her lot in life. She married me some twenty four years ago and has suffered mighty indignations since. I do believe that she saw me simply as a charity case in need of primping and preening so that I might become sociably acceptable. I also believe that she misunderstood my marriage proposal as a question to whether she needed another foot massage or not. In any event she said yes and here we are. All that being said, I married up and I am forever grateful to her for that.
She began to lose her hearing as a young person and has spent most of her adult life profoundly hearing impaired. That is not to say that she is totally deaf. She hears naturally only frequencies of about 850 Hertz and below. That isn't really enough of the sound spectrum to derive intelligent conversation. Maybe that is why we seem to get along... Anyway, the consonants in the English language ( The part that imparts the most meaning to the words ) lie in the sound spectrum well above her highest perceived sound. That said, still she does remarkably well -better than most- in the day to day world. She is an accomplished lip-reader and can understand most of her friends on the telephone.
Life sucks but you can learn to adapt.
Back to the cochlear implant. -Short version- Hearing bad, hearing aids don't help, cochlear implant might, therefore cochlear implant it shall be. And so it is. The implant surgery was successful in that the implant was installed and she she survived it. Beyond that is where we are today.
The implant was 'switched on' almost three weeks ago and she is deep into the learning process that it takes to learn how to hear again using electronic input instead of acoustic input. Everyone that she converses with that has had the implant tells her that it will take time and lots of it to get to a level of reliability even remotely close to natural hearing. Even now she is listening to children's books on tape with the accompanying books to re-learn the simplest sounds and forge the new pathways in her brain and yet she does not once complain. Did I mention that she is a saint?
In the coming weeks and months the squeaks, beeps, boops and other noises that she hears will begin to work it's way into being intelligible. My hope is that when she can understand what I am saying that she won't kick me to the curb. Maybe I should offer her another foot massage...
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