I don't know what meaning the decision to return to the blog on what would have been Samantha's 46th birthday actually holds, if any. But here we are.
The holidays were busy, projects professional and domestic galore. And another February 11th has rolled around and left me somewhat confused at my own emotional reaction. I know that grief isn't linear, and a wave can hit you at seemingly random times when you least expect it. But on the flip side, I'm very happy in my marriage with Rae and have relatively great relationships with my kids. I want for very little on an emotional level. So when this year's 2/11 rolled around and the grief-bus ran me over, I was pretty confused.
Some of it is that I've been missing my dad a lot. Between Sam's birthday on the 11th, Valentine's Day on the 14th (which is when our house burned down) and Dad's on the 27th, February is not my most favorite month ever. It just also happens to be the month that Raechelle and I are doing a pretty big 28-day liver cleanse, which means my body is detoxing like a mofo -- caffeine and sugar withdrawal especially -- which further means that I'm feeling not-in-control. And the entire reason we decided to do this was because of Raechelle's liver issues... so not being in control and having a wife with a liver illness are both kind of enormous triggers.
I guess I probably just answered my own question. Hooray for blogging.
Sting, play us off...
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Monday, February 11, 2013
Monday, May 16, 2011
Checklist.
Airship Daedalus: is it in you? Are you following it? Are you decoding the ciphers? For a secondary learn-as-we-go webcomic project, this thing is proving to be a blast and a half, and has led to a few expansions of the property. Firstly, we've been given ten pages in the next edition of Mash Tun. So that's cool. Then I have the script for a ten-page one-shot story in the following issue. We also are happy to count actress/singer/producer Wonder Russell (Rogue in the "On and On" film I directed for Kirby Krackle), who has put in a bid to play the character of Doc in any screen venture we attempt with Daedalus. Although I'm a bit gun shy to go all out on a Daedalus film just yet, Ms. Russell did indeed encourage a teaser/trailer/proof-of-concept project which we could showcase at ECCC next year, as well as using as the basis for a Kickstarter campaign to fund a web serial. In the meantime, I've already translated Chapter 1 of the webcomic into an old-time radio drama. We'll set that up this summer and post it to the website. There's also an RPG of the property in the works (with plenty of legwork already done from the first time I tinkered with the setting back in the late '80s).
Ordinary Angels: We got some incredibly helpful feedback from an old high school filmmaker buddy who now works at Disney. I'm adjusting the pitch this week.
Spent Raechelle's birthday being sick. Possible ulcer and a sinus infection. Recovered enough to co-host our combined birthday bash at the Mop & Bucket, and promptly relapsed. Spent my own birthday in the doctor's office, but bucked up enough to go see opening night of Thor with the fam and some friends. Finally went on antibiotics and both issues seem to be clearing up just fine. But now Raechelle and Kayleigh are both sick with what I've termed The Snot Monster - so much so that we had to skip the trip to Bellingham for May Birthdays. We're rescheduling for June.
Tyler turns 17 tomorrow. I don't feel old enough to have a 17 year-old son. Hopefully I never will feel old enough. I will say that Tyler has undergone an evolution, emotionally as well as physically. It's such a far cry from where we were just last year (and especially 2008-2009). We're all breathing a huge sigh off relief and are very hopeful about his future.
It's amazing that I found the time to put up this post, but now I need to get back to the checklist...
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Augtober
The other news this month was threefold:
Firstly, my 93-year-old grandfather took a fall and fractured his hip. He underwent a partial hip replacement and looked like he might fully recover, but he developed an infection and his blood-pressure, which is normally low, dropped and he's not a candidate for more surgery to treat the infection. So he's now in hospice care. The family, as always, has circled wagons, and are surrounding my grandparents with support and love. The grandparents just celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary this year.
Secondly, Tyler has made some pretty fundamental changes via professional medical and psychological help, including a revision to the diagnosis given by the UW Autism Clinic earlier this year. Without going into too much detail, we now have a much more solid diagnosis and a much clearer direction for future progress. We're all cautiously optimistic.
Lastly, my brother Matt would have turned 40 on Saturday. Talk about your gut-punch. Wow.
On the up-side, we finally released Arrowflight Second Edition. It's been eight years since the first edition was released, but our fans understand I've kinda had some stuff going on...
Monday, January 11, 2010
I'm Fine, Thanks.
I had my first over-40 physical today. It wasn't as bad as the photo above.
I had a nice brisk walk there, and there was no wait, shockingly. The PA who took my blood pressure said it was borderline high, to which I replied, "I hope so. I just walked six blocks and up three flights of stairs - I'd worry if it wasn't on the high side."
Funny how you build certain things up in your head, but it turns out to be pretty minor. Take the prostate exam, for example. After dreading the ol' digit-up-the-rectum party (having experienced it at the [ahem] hands of a crusty--and creepy--old urologist when I was twenty), it turns out my doctor doesn't worry about a prostate cancer test unless something funny shows up in the blood panel, for which I will return later this week. And even then, it's another blood test, not the greasy finger.
Well color me pleasantly surprised.
Until he said he wanted to freeze and/or burn some skin tags off. Which meant some liquid nitrogen in the junkular area, and three shots of lidocaine and an electrocautery zapper in my armpit. Thank goodness I didn't have time to build THAT up in my head, huh?
So the bottom line is, aside from dropping the twenty pounds I knew I'd need to lose, and pending the walk-in blood panel which will tell us cholesterol and thyroid levels, I'm in good shape for a 41 year old dude who's had his ass kicked by life a few times, and whose armpits feel like they've been worked over by a couple Russian sailors.
Tomorrow I start with my own personal therapist. After managing a family dynamic and the grief counseling of two kids, I'm going to work on my emotional engine for a bit. Call it a New Year's resolution. Call it an emotional tune-up. Call it whatever you'd like. The long and short of it is that I believe in being the best father and husband I can be, and that means keeping everything in working order. And the last thing I need is figurative rats in my proverbial engine compartment.
On a totally different topic, this site rocks.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Same Hell, Different Day
No, that's not me being down or pessimistic. That's a statement about hearing lots of people over the New Year weekend mention how awful 2009 was. In general, yeah. It was a high stress year. A lot happened in the world and closer to home. In our family, there were challenges in the child-rearing, house-selling, house-buying arenas, coupled with various health issues and scares. Couples splintered apart. One close friend was diagnosed with (and apparently beat) lung cancer. My grandmother was in and out of the hospital. It was kinda rough.
But here's some perspective:
Honestly, there will always be dark clouds and silver linings to any year. If I look at my own 2005-2009, I can see rough years of Biblical proportion: death of wife, death of father, flood, fire, locusts... Actually, there weren't locusts. But we joked about it, because at the time if I didn't laugh, I would have curled into the fetal position and sobbed my ass off. Come to think of it, I did that anyway. Just not in public. But in the midst of that maelstrom of awfulness there were deep friendships formed, the discovery of strength I didn't know I had, and an outpouring of love and support from my community. I released an award-winning short film and made lots of valuable contacts in the film arena. I also released a tribute CD for Samantha, which directly put Raechelle in my path. Now THAT eats my mind every time I think about it.
The point being, it's fine and dandy to say, "2009 sucked - 2010 will be better!" Heck, it may be true for you. But there are always ups and downs to any 365-day period, and an arbitrary date on a calendar isn't going to make that any different. 2010, for me, holds the promise of progress on the film front, of creative collaboration with my wife, and of finally releasing the long-delayed second edition of Deep7's first premium fantasy RPG, Arrowflight. All good things.
And while all of this is happening, an old friend of mine is dying of cancer. Shura is one of my oldest friends in the area, as Sam & I lived with her and her then-boyfriend Garth when we first moved to Seattle in 1991. I recently got reconnected with Garth, who got me reconnected with Shura just in time to find out not only had she battled breast cancer for years, but that it had metastasized to her bones and liver. And she's now quite literally on her deathbed. Seeing pictures of her taken within the last 48 hours was a huge flashback for me, and I beat my tiny fists against the massive chest of cancer once more, railing impotently from the mountaintop of Facebook. Time may mute the immediate pain, but watching a loved one die far too young from cancer never becomes more okay. Godspeed, Shura. Much love.
On top of that, Raechelle's mom had a heart attack over last weekend, and was hospitalized with stents in her arteries. I know she doesn't like it when people make a fuss, but we were preparing for some very hard news. Thank goodness that doesn't appear to be the case!
So my New Year kicks off with the impending death of an old friend and a health scare for my mother-in-law, and yet -- what a great gift to be reminded of life's finite nature, to be given renewed impetus to fulfill my own potential and not waste a single moment.
To that end, the woman and I are getting back in shape, and I've made appointments with a new head doc (to keep the emotional gears and cogs moving smoothly) as well as my meat doc (for that "You're over 40 - bend over!" physical). And as soon as we receive the report from UW, we'll be getting Tyler's situation sorted out as well.
And with that, here we go...
But here's some perspective:
- The planet is still rotating, and revolving around the sun.
- Climate change hasn't killed us off yet.
- I got married (W00t!)
Honestly, there will always be dark clouds and silver linings to any year. If I look at my own 2005-2009, I can see rough years of Biblical proportion: death of wife, death of father, flood, fire, locusts... Actually, there weren't locusts. But we joked about it, because at the time if I didn't laugh, I would have curled into the fetal position and sobbed my ass off. Come to think of it, I did that anyway. Just not in public. But in the midst of that maelstrom of awfulness there were deep friendships formed, the discovery of strength I didn't know I had, and an outpouring of love and support from my community. I released an award-winning short film and made lots of valuable contacts in the film arena. I also released a tribute CD for Samantha, which directly put Raechelle in my path. Now THAT eats my mind every time I think about it.
The point being, it's fine and dandy to say, "2009 sucked - 2010 will be better!" Heck, it may be true for you. But there are always ups and downs to any 365-day period, and an arbitrary date on a calendar isn't going to make that any different. 2010, for me, holds the promise of progress on the film front, of creative collaboration with my wife, and of finally releasing the long-delayed second edition of Deep7's first premium fantasy RPG, Arrowflight. All good things.
And while all of this is happening, an old friend of mine is dying of cancer. Shura is one of my oldest friends in the area, as Sam & I lived with her and her then-boyfriend Garth when we first moved to Seattle in 1991. I recently got reconnected with Garth, who got me reconnected with Shura just in time to find out not only had she battled breast cancer for years, but that it had metastasized to her bones and liver. And she's now quite literally on her deathbed. Seeing pictures of her taken within the last 48 hours was a huge flashback for me, and I beat my tiny fists against the massive chest of cancer once more, railing impotently from the mountaintop of Facebook. Time may mute the immediate pain, but watching a loved one die far too young from cancer never becomes more okay. Godspeed, Shura. Much love.
On top of that, Raechelle's mom had a heart attack over last weekend, and was hospitalized with stents in her arteries. I know she doesn't like it when people make a fuss, but we were preparing for some very hard news. Thank goodness that doesn't appear to be the case!
So my New Year kicks off with the impending death of an old friend and a health scare for my mother-in-law, and yet -- what a great gift to be reminded of life's finite nature, to be given renewed impetus to fulfill my own potential and not waste a single moment.
To that end, the woman and I are getting back in shape, and I've made appointments with a new head doc (to keep the emotional gears and cogs moving smoothly) as well as my meat doc (for that "You're over 40 - bend over!" physical). And as soon as we receive the report from UW, we'll be getting Tyler's situation sorted out as well.
And with that, here we go...
Friday, September 18, 2009
Potty Talk Friday
I figure since TFMD can talk about sticking voodoo pins in her pink, plush uterus, I can talk about rectal exams. If you don't want to read about uteruses (uterii?) or rectal exams, click here and look at some kitties. You've been warned.I have to make a doctor appointment. Not because anything is acutely wrong, but because I'm now "over 40" and need to start having the ol' prostate checked. That means I need to find a doctor for the job, because, although she's a capable family physician, our family physician is someone with whom we have a lot of interaction, and I would prefer that the doctor I see for that particular examination be someone with whom I do not have a lot of interaction. Preferably a doctor with small, delicate fingers.
This will not necessarily be a new sensation; when I was twenty, I developed bursitis in my left pelvic joint, and everyone in my medical network freaked the hell out. My regular doctor thought I might have a testicular torsion, so she referred me to a urologist. A urologist who graduated medical school in 1692 and all but prescribed a course of leeches. He pulled up his crotch-level stool, grinned a crusty, salacious grin and simply said, "drop 'em," after which I was rolled on my side and probed with what was either his withered, (thankfully) gloved finger or a dry carrot in a condom. I wasn't about to look and see. After pronouncing that I had a hernia, for which he wanted to immediately prep me for surgery, I ran as fast as my inflamed pelvic joint and devirginized poop-chute could manage to a thirtysomething sports medicine doctor for a second opinion. He spent about a minute giving me a basic visual examination and told me I had bursitis, told me what bursitis was, and told me that it would go away in 8-12 weeks (which it did). And he didn't need to stick anything up my butt to figure it out, for which I will be eternally grateful.
As an aside, several years later, I actually did develop an inguinal hernia and had it surgically repaired with high-tech mesh. An inguinal hernia and pelvic bursitis feel totally different, just FYI.
Anyone who knows me is aware that I have a certain level of mistrust when it comes to the American medical system and certain individual doctors (no surprise, given my history and that of certain family members). While I'm sure the vast majority of doctors practice medicine for the benefit of their patients (and have their health as the number one priority), there are some deep flaws and conflicts of interest in how we approach health care and educate new doctors, and patients should of course be smart and discerning when selecting a health care professional.
Hence my jouney begins, to find a doc who a) wasn't educated in the Dark Ages, b) doesn't smile and say, "drop 'em" before reaming me with a carrot, and c) has small, delicate fingers.
Wish me luck.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Thank You, Craig.
So, one year ago today, this adorable brunette showed up on my doorstep to audition for And Tears Fell. She sang a few songs, left me some demos and headed back to work.
Life would never be the same.
It's been one heck of a year. Full of ups and downs (but mostly ups). And Monica Guzman of the online Seattle P.I. has put everything into perspective. And you know I'm all about the perspective.
Happy "Click Day" to TFMD.
As she says, we had a terrific evening with dinner and a wonderful show at the Paramount. And Monica's article was a really nice present to find online this morning. I'd just come home from taking Kayleigh to the doctor for a persistent cough she'd been having (just your everyday spring virus), and I was away from the office most of yesterday, so I am just now catching up with everything.
Some highlights from last weekend:
The rockstar birthday party for Raechelle was a hit (as was the signature drink I invented for the occasion - The Stage Dive: equal parts coconut run & Rock Star energy drink, served over ice with a wedge of lime). Much loud singing and thrashing was done.
Much of Sunday was spent with my high school buddy Colin and his son Sean, who were in Seattle for an audition. After I dropped them at the hotel, I assembled Rae's new bookshelf, which she is using to stack her sweaters in, next to her dresser. After half an hour sitting cross-legged on the floor with prefab wood product and hardware, I only realized when I tried to get up that my knee had actually dislocated. Like fully slipped out of joint. It was the most terrible knee pain I've ever experienced; even worse than in eighth grade, when I grew twelve inches in one year and had to miss a lot of PE due to my Osgood Schlatter condition. After writhing onto the bed, unable to move my left leg without severe agony, I slipped my right foot under it and extended my right leg underneath my left. The knee slipped back into joint with the loudest POP I've ever heard come out of my body (and I've done years of chiropractic). And suddenly I could walk again.
And yesterday, as I mentioned, was spent driving around doing errands. Which was a lot of fun for my knee (clutch and all).
So, yeah. Crazy year. Crazy year indeed. And if I hadn't placed the audition ad on Craigslist, things may have turned out very differently. I'm glad I did.
Thank you, Craig.
Life would never be the same.
It's been one heck of a year. Full of ups and downs (but mostly ups). And Monica Guzman of the online Seattle P.I. has put everything into perspective. And you know I'm all about the perspective.
Happy "Click Day" to TFMD.
As she says, we had a terrific evening with dinner and a wonderful show at the Paramount. And Monica's article was a really nice present to find online this morning. I'd just come home from taking Kayleigh to the doctor for a persistent cough she'd been having (just your everyday spring virus), and I was away from the office most of yesterday, so I am just now catching up with everything.
Some highlights from last weekend:
The rockstar birthday party for Raechelle was a hit (as was the signature drink I invented for the occasion - The Stage Dive: equal parts coconut run & Rock Star energy drink, served over ice with a wedge of lime). Much loud singing and thrashing was done.
Much of Sunday was spent with my high school buddy Colin and his son Sean, who were in Seattle for an audition. After I dropped them at the hotel, I assembled Rae's new bookshelf, which she is using to stack her sweaters in, next to her dresser. After half an hour sitting cross-legged on the floor with prefab wood product and hardware, I only realized when I tried to get up that my knee had actually dislocated. Like fully slipped out of joint. It was the most terrible knee pain I've ever experienced; even worse than in eighth grade, when I grew twelve inches in one year and had to miss a lot of PE due to my Osgood Schlatter condition. After writhing onto the bed, unable to move my left leg without severe agony, I slipped my right foot under it and extended my right leg underneath my left. The knee slipped back into joint with the loudest POP I've ever heard come out of my body (and I've done years of chiropractic). And suddenly I could walk again.
And yesterday, as I mentioned, was spent driving around doing errands. Which was a lot of fun for my knee (clutch and all).
So, yeah. Crazy year. Crazy year indeed. And if I hadn't placed the audition ad on Craigslist, things may have turned out very differently. I'm glad I did.
Thank you, Craig.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Not to Worry
The moment I mention health concerns in this blog, my loyal readers (many of whom are old friends) start pinging me with concern. It's okay. My BP is nice and on the low side of normal, I'm at a healthy weight and getting healthier, my cholesterol is getting checked as we speak, and - bonus - I don't have cancer.
No, the health issues of which I speak are of the merely-being-in-a-medical-setting variety. I hate hate hate hospitals, doctors' offices, exam rooms, lab coats, needles, surgical gloves and scrubs. Never had a problem with doctors all my life. Funny how being enmeshed in the cancer culture for three years while your wife and father are poked and prodded, stuck, bled, infused, irradiated and otherwise defiled puts a negative spin on things. While it's not a full-on medical phobia, I can say that sitting in two different exam rooms in the last week had me extremely uncomfortable and on-edge.
And the crux of the matter is really that in both exams, I had an acute symptom I needed addressed, and in both cases, I left with no answers. I could have saved the money and spared my dignity staying home and be no worse for the not-knowing. In the first exam, I at least got my ear canal irrigated and some greasy, obnoxious ear drops to try to kill the infection.
So that's what the cryptic note yesterday was about. He's okay, folks. Just a bit grumpy about the medical profession (and Colin, Ann, Jason and Beth, I know you know what I'm talking about). Which is just swell, as now that I'm cruising into midlife, the medical profession and I are statistically going to be seeing more of each other.
No, the health issues of which I speak are of the merely-being-in-a-medical-setting variety. I hate hate hate hospitals, doctors' offices, exam rooms, lab coats, needles, surgical gloves and scrubs. Never had a problem with doctors all my life. Funny how being enmeshed in the cancer culture for three years while your wife and father are poked and prodded, stuck, bled, infused, irradiated and otherwise defiled puts a negative spin on things. While it's not a full-on medical phobia, I can say that sitting in two different exam rooms in the last week had me extremely uncomfortable and on-edge.
And the crux of the matter is really that in both exams, I had an acute symptom I needed addressed, and in both cases, I left with no answers. I could have saved the money and spared my dignity staying home and be no worse for the not-knowing. In the first exam, I at least got my ear canal irrigated and some greasy, obnoxious ear drops to try to kill the infection.
So that's what the cryptic note yesterday was about. He's okay, folks. Just a bit grumpy about the medical profession (and Colin, Ann, Jason and Beth, I know you know what I'm talking about). Which is just swell, as now that I'm cruising into midlife, the medical profession and I are statistically going to be seeing more of each other.
Friday, September 19, 2008
What Gives?
Another 4AM wake-up. What's up with that? Weird energy going on. Could be the seasonal change. I hope that's all it is.
I'm going in today for my first physical in about five years. More than a little nervous about that, as it now will include a prostate exam. Joy. There are other aspects I'm nervous about, but nothing terribly serious. I'll let y'all know how it goes.
Ooh, don't forget! It's Talk Like a Pirate Day! Avast, me hearties!
There are some albums which are well suited to a certain season. Case in point, David Sylvian - Secrets of the Beehive, his amazing 1987 release with piano and string arrangements by Ryuichi Sakamoto. It is very much an "autumn" piece of music, full of melancholy chord progressions and poetic lyrics with a darker edge. Hauntingly beautiful.
The opening track is just over a minute long, but still sends a happy vibe to my brainpan when I hear it - not because of the lyrical content, but because it means autumn to me.
I'm going in today for my first physical in about five years. More than a little nervous about that, as it now will include a prostate exam. Joy. There are other aspects I'm nervous about, but nothing terribly serious. I'll let y'all know how it goes.
Ooh, don't forget! It's Talk Like a Pirate Day! Avast, me hearties!
There are some albums which are well suited to a certain season. Case in point, David Sylvian - Secrets of the Beehive, his amazing 1987 release with piano and string arrangements by Ryuichi Sakamoto. It is very much an "autumn" piece of music, full of melancholy chord progressions and poetic lyrics with a darker edge. Hauntingly beautiful.
The opening track is just over a minute long, but still sends a happy vibe to my brainpan when I hear it - not because of the lyrical content, but because it means autumn to me.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Alki Makes It All Better
So, yesterday was, as the kids say nowadays, "the suxxorz". It seemed like every possible stresser in my life chose yesterday to crap all over me, after eating Indian food, Slim Jims and Wild Turkey.
Yeah, that bad.
I'm not gonna go into all of it here. Hell, I'm not gonna go into most of it here. Tyler/school issues. Work issues (serious writer's block). Health issues. Relationship issues. Money issues. Suffice to say, it was poopy, and I felt as if I'd been dragged under a truck down a gravel road. On fire.
Hey, what's with the overblown metaphors?
I should give big props to my daughter Kayleigh for finding me on the front porch and giving me a heck of a shoulder massage. Thanks honey. That was a bright spot in the day. As was hearing "you're the awesomest dad ever" at tuck-in time.
I also should mention Dan - you really helped by letting me vent, buddy. Thanks.
After said poopy day, which culminated in my actually cooking a nutritious dinner of multi-grain pasta and salad, negating same by slamming back a couple beers, and finally wrestling both of my lovely offspring into bed, I was ready to slip into my own bedtime coma and rest up for a better day.
Which started with me waking up at 5AM (WTF??). Undaunted, I headed upstairs to be proactive. I did some email, some research, took my supplements, did my isometrics, sent out a query to Rae's mom about Hurricane Ike, and then got the kids up and out. Another skirmish with Tyler, but no fatalities (although he is grounded this weekend). Dropped the kids at school and headed down to Alki with some kickass tea. You heard me. I used the words kickass and tea in the same sentence. Because I'm 6'4" and a deuce and a half, so I can effectively punch you in the face while drinking said kickass tea.
But Alki is not about punching people in the face. It's about calm. It's about recharging. As I sat on the cement steps, watching the tide come in, some movement caught my eye. Not twenty feet away from me, an osprey flapped its way inland with a whole fish clutched in its talons. The screenplay would have gone something like this:
It put my problems in perspective. I don't have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from. Nor do I have to worry about a big friggin' osprey hauling me away for breakfast. Nor do I have to worry about a hurricane blowing through my neighborhood. Perspective, man.
It's coming up on the end of a rough week. Being down at Alki the past two mornings has helped my outlook immensely. I'm fortunate to live in such a beautiful part of the country. I'm fortunate to have good friends, a supportive family, loving children (even at their worst, they are pretty damn cool), and a wonderful partner. That knowledge and perspective helps me to be able to weather a lot of crap.
Lunch with Raechelle today, and the weekend kicks off tomorrow with zombie movies! Huzzah!
Yeah, that bad.
I'm not gonna go into all of it here. Hell, I'm not gonna go into most of it here. Tyler/school issues. Work issues (serious writer's block). Health issues. Relationship issues. Money issues. Suffice to say, it was poopy, and I felt as if I'd been dragged under a truck down a gravel road. On fire.
Hey, what's with the overblown metaphors?
I should give big props to my daughter Kayleigh for finding me on the front porch and giving me a heck of a shoulder massage. Thanks honey. That was a bright spot in the day. As was hearing "you're the awesomest dad ever" at tuck-in time.
I also should mention Dan - you really helped by letting me vent, buddy. Thanks.
After said poopy day, which culminated in my actually cooking a nutritious dinner of multi-grain pasta and salad, negating same by slamming back a couple beers, and finally wrestling both of my lovely offspring into bed, I was ready to slip into my own bedtime coma and rest up for a better day.
Which started with me waking up at 5AM (WTF??). Undaunted, I headed upstairs to be proactive. I did some email, some research, took my supplements, did my isometrics, sent out a query to Rae's mom about Hurricane Ike, and then got the kids up and out. Another skirmish with Tyler, but no fatalities (although he is grounded this weekend). Dropped the kids at school and headed down to Alki with some kickass tea. You heard me. I used the words kickass and tea in the same sentence. Because I'm 6'4" and a deuce and a half, so I can effectively punch you in the face while drinking said kickass tea.
But Alki is not about punching people in the face. It's about calm. It's about recharging. As I sat on the cement steps, watching the tide come in, some movement caught my eye. Not twenty feet away from me, an osprey flapped its way inland with a whole fish clutched in its talons. The screenplay would have gone something like this:OSPREY
Score!
FISH
[wriggle wriggle]
Shit.
Score!
FISH
[wriggle wriggle]
Shit.
It put my problems in perspective. I don't have to worry about where my next meal is going to come from. Nor do I have to worry about a big friggin' osprey hauling me away for breakfast. Nor do I have to worry about a hurricane blowing through my neighborhood. Perspective, man.
It's coming up on the end of a rough week. Being down at Alki the past two mornings has helped my outlook immensely. I'm fortunate to live in such a beautiful part of the country. I'm fortunate to have good friends, a supportive family, loving children (even at their worst, they are pretty damn cool), and a wonderful partner. That knowledge and perspective helps me to be able to weather a lot of crap.
Lunch with Raechelle today, and the weekend kicks off tomorrow with zombie movies! Huzzah!
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