Update On Dad

I just found out about an hour ago that dad's blood test came back with a low T-cell count. We (as in the rest of the family) are also noticing that his speech and memory problems are beginning to become noticeable again. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's only a side-effect of the radiation treatments he finished about two weeks ago, along with the industrial-strength chemicals he has to ingest on a daily basis. He does have a final follow-up appointment with his surgeon on Wednesday and there's another MRI to come soon. Hopefully it doesn't reveal any unwanted surprises.

Other than that, we're taking it day by day. The Christmas tree finally came down today, so now it's just dreary blah-ness for the next two months or so.

My Own Health Scare...

First of all, I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving holiday.

In all this taking care of everyone else, I somewhat neglected myself. Just before Thanksgiving, I was knocked on my butt with some sort of infection that nearly swelled my throat shut. Mega doses of antibiotics got rid of it, but not without losing about ten pounds. Because I couldn’t swallow, I had to eat baby food! I have to give credit to my ex for helping nurse me back to health; then again, I was practically evicted from my parents’ place as my illness would put my dad, with his lowered immunity system, in danger. I just hope I don’t have to go through that again.

God Bless the Cancer Survivors

As I'm sitting in the waiting room while my dad is having his treatment, I am struck by the many different folks here who are going through the same thing he is. They are all here for different reasons: the grandmother who relies on oxygen to breathe; the twenty-something man who needs a hand held device to speak. Rich, poor...cancer sure doesn't discriminate. Yet, they're here, with the hope that they can beat it. I can't get over how positive the atmosphere here is, also; you'd think that a cancer ward would be a bastion of desperation and despair. However, that's not the case. Here, there's no such thing as if they'll beat cancer, it's when. This makes my problems seem a little more...petty.

My Thoughts on Joe Paterno's 400th Win

I couldn’t have been more proud to be a Penn State alumnus than I was last night. It’s not often that anyone has the opportunity to witness history; all from row 19 on the 35 yard line. I sat, with 104,147 souls, as we went through heartbreak, misery, the halftime show…then the heightened excitement (and if you’re a Northwestern fan, heightened excrement) as the boys in blue and white pounded back from near oblivion, to the elation of achieving a hard-earned victory; Joe Paterno’s 400^th.

Okay, so I fluffed up the language a little. It was a bit better than saying “over 100 thousand drunken idiots were screaming holy hell…” But, still, regardless if you’re a Penn State fan or not, you must admit that Joe Paterno is one class act. So what if he started coaching during the McKinley administration, and he’s about to celebrate his 147^th birthday in December. The point is he still knows how to win. And, do it the right way. There’s no cutting corners. You step out of line, and you clean out your locker. That simple. And, hit the books. Winning isn’t everything, but an education is.

I admire a man who has a competitive spirit but is willing to do the right thing to achieve the best results. That shows a lot of patience. Just like last night; sure, when we were down 21 points just before the half, the lads in blue could have all just assumed the fetal position, or at the very least play not to lose too badly. But, hoo no, not this team. Not with Matt “gee, I have nothing to lose because I’m the backup anyway so let’s kick some ass” McGloin. It was a miracle that Joe decided to put him in there to begin with, considering he’s very loyal to his first-stringers. Not this time.

I’m only going to say that the honor of being college football’s winningest coach couldn’t go to a more deserving coach. Well done, Joe.

We are….Penn State.

Joe Paterno wins No. 400 after Penn St. rallies from 21 down (from the Associated Press)

Doctors SUCK

Today, I found out just how much doctors don't value your time.

Finally, the ball is rolling on my dad's treatments; it took a phone call from my mother to the doctor to discover they hadn't even processed his paperwork yet. It was sitting on someone's desk, probably encrusted with coffee stains and neon-glow cheesy poof crumbs. But, at least they said, "oh, geez...come in tomorrow for an MRI at 1:30, then there's two more appointments: one at 2:30, and the next on Thursday morning at 9:30." Okay, fine. Forget the fact that I'm the one who has to drive him there: "Uh, boss, I just found out that you'll be losing two half-days of productivity from me with no notice because of scheduling incompetence." Luckily, her attitude was that of "you gotta do what you gotta do." Whew. So, that being said, I get to my parents' house, when my mother tells me the appointment was moved up to 1:15. "*Teeth grinding* sure, *twitch* no problem *twitch twitch*."

I went to work earlier than usual today, then left to go to the appointments. They were long, but necessary. But, hey, as a consolation prize, I was treated to *ahem* Chinese (shhh, you didn't hear that). After we got back to the house, which was around 6:30, we discovered a voice mail from the doctor's office for tomorrow's appointment. [nasal voice] "We need to change your appointment time to 3:30 p.m." @#^%^$#%**($!!!!! Now, I have to go in to work tomorrow morning, which no one expects me to do since I haven't been able to tell anyone of the change, just to leave early again! Those f@#$ing *bleep* *bleep* *BLEEEEEEEEP*...

Finally Got the House Sold

The house on South 2nd.

After many months of suffering, anguish, and mayhem, my grandparents’ house is finally sold! Thanks to the soaring costs of health care for the elderly, we were forced to put the old homestead up for auction to help pay for grandma’s ongoing medical care at a local nursing home. It’s sad to let go of a place that’s been in the family for 66 years, but it needed a lot of work, and no one in the family was in any position to buy it.

It was a long, busy day.

What we found astonishing was the amount of crap my grandparents accumulated over their lifetimes. We found whole sets (with an “s”) of fine china; one set was wrapped in newspaper dated from 1944! I collect old maps, so I got to inherit a multitude of old atlases and road maps; my prized finds are a Pennsylvania State Highway Map from 1937, and a visitor’s map to Philadelphia from the Democratic National Convention of 1936. It required two auctions to get rid of it all; one in late August, and the other was yesterday.

One good thing that came of this was the workout I got moving furniture, tables, and running items up stairs from a holding area in the basement. When our role was finished, which was about one in the afternoon, I got to take a hike through the town to blow off steam, and soak up the beautiful mid-October day.

This sums up the whole experience: "'arrowing"

Now that the saga of the house is finished, my dad can focus completely on his recovery; and although I don’t need to help with the house anymore, the challenge remains to take care of his needs while trying to squeeze in my own. Even today, there was no respite; we had to resume the weekly ritual of visiting my grandmother at the assisted-living facility, and breaking the news to her that her house was no longer hers. In a way, though, her suffering with Alzheimer’s seemed to be a blessing; her response was, “What’s for lunch?”

The Shoes Make the Man

Today, I finally got to walking again! I hit the ol' treadmill for about an hour, and it felt great. I tell you one thing, the shoes make the man. A couple months ago, I went out on a limb and bought a pair of relatively inexpensive toning shoes (the kind with the rounded sole), at a local box store. I was curious to see if the "hype" regarding how they burn fat and tone was just that. Well, I have to say, after walking for an hour straight in them, I'm feeling it. I'm disappointed, though, at the limited selection for men; one of the chief complaints I've heard about them is purely aesthetic (they look like platforms, man!) Hey, I don't care; they're comfy, and they seem to be doing the trick.