Patience

My parents divorced, I believe when I was 9.  And if I remember correctly I was either 11 or 12 when my mom remarried.  It's been a long time, how am I supposed to remember.

If I ever would have been asked, I never would have described my stepfather as a patient man, he didn't have a short temper by any means, I just wouldn't have described him as patient.

Something happened this weekend to make me rethink this.  I took my own two kids, 6 and 9 years old, fishing.  I don't know how that man did it.  There were often three of us in a boat plus my mom.  So really, in a fishing scenario, four kids plus him.  Swinging empty hooks and flopping fish in his face constantly, getting lines and hooks tangled in just about everything.  He may not have been a saint, but he certainly was patient.

So P and Mel and I went fishing Saturday.  Trout fishing to be more specific.  Along one of Southern Wisconsin's small, often tree lined, or weed entangled creeks. With two little, independent, let me do it, kids.  What was I thinking? 

Lures were sent onto bridges and railroad trusses, into trees, weeds, and rocks on both sides of the creek.  Rod tips were jammed into trees, weeds, rocks, brothers, and sisters.  Between all that and Mel's technique of jump casting, it's a wonder no rods were lost or broken.  It was at times a true test of patience.

In the end we fished for about 4 hours, caught one fish (I didn't have the heart to tell them it was a sucker and not a trout), and regardless of it all, I still had to be the one to tell them it was time to quit.  We ate dinner at a restaurant near the creek and later drove by it again on the way home.  They both asked if we could stop and fish some more.  Next time.

Debate

No, not that one. I just did an image search for the word debate and came up with this image, which I liked.   Although as long as we're here, I will say that the older I get, the more I wonder how otherwise seemingly intelligent people can believe in a higher power.  Enough said, I have little interest discussing this matter here.

Over the last 10ish days, I'm amazed at the shear quantity of internal debates that have gone on in my head.  Early in the week there was little debate about a lot of things.  If it was on the floor, it was staying there.  It may as well have been in the middle of New York City.  I wasn't getting it.  Now I'm recovered to the point where I can accomplish most simple tasks with only a minimum of additional pain.  I just need to decide if it is worth it.  Hence the debates.

Monday I returned to work.  My job entails me spending about half the time in the office and the remainder out and about the county.  Yesterday I found myself at one of our sites and having to either put the truck in 4wd or turn around.  Another debate, the shift lever is way down there, on the floor.  Maybe I don't need to drive through the site today.

But I'm feeling better. Today I took a long walk at the landfill.  Nice springish day, sun shining.  Refreshing.  Every step is still measured.  Every move still calculated.  I have a pretty good idea what I can and can't do, or maybe what I will or won't do.  Either way.  I think the end is in sight and I'll be active again soon.

Blue and I still haven't made nice, but it's supposed to hit 60 later this week.  I'm thinking a lazy lunch time ride might be in order to help mend that fence.

Progress

Two firsts today since my mishap:

1)  I sat up.  That's right, I is a big boy now.  I didn't actually do a sit up, but I sat up.  Previously, if I wanted to get out of bed, it involved rolling over and sort of pushing/pulling myself to the edge of the bed until my feet hit the floor, then pushing myself up. Quite a site I'm sure.

2)  With my new found abilities, I am now sitting on the couch.  I did make the mistake of sitting on the couch early Sunday morning, getting off of it then was an adventure to say the least.  I'm confident that today it will be easier.

Not sure if I'm getting any better or if this new found progress is due to the 4-gallon tub of industrial strength ibuprofen which is now sitting on my nightstand next to the percocet.  Between the two I sometimes feel pretty good, then I try and do something and get put in my place.  Driving is still an adventure, and putting a pizza in the oven tonight almost brought me to my knees.

I really look forward to the day when I'm not constantly looking at the clock wondering when I need to take the next pill.  More than anything, I really want a beer, well aside from being pain free of course.

ABC's

This is how bored I am.  The ABC's of me, stolen from Badgergirl's blog.

(A) Age: 39
(B) Bed Size: King, the only way to go
(C) Chore You Really Dislike: All of them
(D) Dogs:  This one:

Ozzie

(E) Essential Start Your Day Item:  I really need to brush my teeth before I feel awake.
(F) Favorite Color: Orange
(G) Gold or Silver? Gold
(H) Height: 5'10"
(I) Instruments You Play: None
(J) Job Title: Solid Waste Engineer
(K) Kids: Two:

Patrick

Melanie

(L) Live: Stoughton, WI
(M) Mom's Name: Anna
(N) Nicknames: Bert
(O) Overnight Hospital Stays? I don't think so, maybe when I had my tonsils out as a kid.
(P) Pet Peeve: ??
(Q) Quote from a Movie: "There's no crying in baseball." ~A League of Their Own (watching it now)
(R) Right or Left Handed? Right
(S) Siblings: A little sister, Kelly
(T) Time You Wake Up? 6:04 my alarm goes off, 6:36 I typically get out of bed
(U) Underwear: Almost always
(V) Vegetable You Dislike: Peas, green beans, eggplant
(W) What Makes You Run Late: In the morning? Family
(X) X-Rays: Chest (saturday), dental
(Y) Yummy Food You Make: Everything I make is yummy
(Z) Zoo, Favorite Animal: Probably the fish, or the polar bears

Man Down

Ironic, after my last post that I have to write this one. 

After almost 3-hours in the ER, x-rays, blood and urine tests, along with some heavy narcotics fed directly into my arm, I was told it was nothing but bruised ribs.

I say bullshit, bruised ribs couldn't possibly hurt this much, even with the Vicaden.  I've since switched to something stronger.  It doesn't seem to help.  This morning it took me over an hour to try and figure out how to get off the couch.  Then about 10 minutes to actually do it, with help.  I'm done with the couch for now, good thing our bed is comfortable, and about a foot higher than the couch.  I'm really glad I haven't had to take a dump yet.  I may end up stuck there.

It was Ray's again, a return trip with Patrick.  Not even sure how it happened, but I dismounted my bike over the bars, landing on the incline to the second jump in the beginner jump line.  Hard.  I wasn't riding very fast, but I must have hit pretty square.  

Rear right rib cage took the brunt of the impact, and my right hip and elbow also decided to get in on the action.  Had a really hard time breathing, couldn't get much in the way of words out.  All in all, it made the fresh blood running down my leg from earlier all but an afterthought. 

It's frustrating on so many levels.  I was just starting to figure out how to actually jump that line, more with technique rather than speed, a good thing.  And I've ridden it hundreds of times.  Yesterday, every second run I did was down that line.  That last one started out no different than any of the others. 

Going forward, I don't know what this is going to mean for marathon training.  I have to believe I'm going to be out for at least a week.  Doc told me three weeks for full recovery.  That would only leave me with 5 weeks to prepare.  Sigh.  Stupid monkey.

I do have to tip my hat to everyone at Ray's, they not only helped me get up and off the course, they stored our bikes and gear for us, gave us a ride to the hospital, waited there with us, gave us a lift back, and gave us two complimentary passes for a future visit.  They really went out there way to make sure we were taken care of, and for that, I truly am grateful.

Sadly, I don't even have any good pictures.  There is very little discoloration, nothing to show for all this discomfort.