Grab a drink. This is a long one.
My brain is tiny so it's easily overwhelmed.
But for one solid year now it has been receiving input designed to foment change. Change of a deep and personal nature.
Life saving change.
You know the early chapters. Last year around this time I got the pinched nerve in the neck thing. Lots of pain for quite a while.
Then I went from reading glasses to bi-focals. The bi-focals sucked so I progressed merrily to tri-focals.
Then I was diagnosed with high blood pressure for the first time in my life.
The blood pressure saga continues a year later. Initially Dr. Feelgood started me out on 5 mg of a drug. It did not produce the desired results so she upped it to 10 mg. Had a physical last Thursday, she was still not happy so she switched me to a higher dosage of a different drug.
While I was there she also felt impelled to hand me and discuss with me the "Advance Care Planning Guide." A pamphlet that reviews decisions you should make and documents you should sign before you become incapacitated and cannot do it.
So everyone knows whether or not to shut down your life support systems, or just inject whiskey into your intravenous tubes as you lay helpless close to death. (Editor's note to family: Please choose the latter, and it better be Crown Royal. I can identify cheap whiskey even in a coma).
That was a cheery discussion to have weeks before Christmas.
And of course my job continues to be ice picks in my eyeballs.
All of this is background noise for where my head is at right now.
Carol and I have been motoring up to Maine a lot recently to visit Sarge as he continues to spit in the face of cancer.
Yesterday was cool because Paula and Bill joined us; Kevin and Wayne were there as well. Sarge was sleeping when we arrived so we all congregated in a waiting area along with Cori.
It was good to sit and talk.
An elderly lady walkered her way into the room. We had football on the TV. She asked me who was playing. I told her it was the Steelers and the Bengals. She asked which ones were wearing the yellow pants. I told her the Steelers and she said she would root for them.
Very cool.
She settled down and began working on a puzzle. I think she was just happy to be around other people.
The rehab place is exceptionally nice as long as you don't look around.
If you look around you see the future.
People in walkers and wheelchairs shuffling and creeping along with nothing to do. Trying to kill time, which is pretty ironic when you consider the situation.
Last time we were there I saw a guy in a bed in the hall, asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth open. He looked like the living personalization of "The Scream" by Edvard Munch.
That image has stuck with me.
Eventually Sarge woke up and was wheeled out to the room we were in. It is so tough to see him in this condition. It is tough for me because of all the laughs and insanity we have shared together. Laughs and insanity we will never share again, at least not in that way.
It is exceptionally tough for Carol. Sarge is her baby brother. It breaks my heart to know how much her heart aches. But she is tough and she handles it well.
Externally.
Sarge is Sarge. We talked, he made us laugh. In fact when we first got there I was alone in the room with him and Cori. Cori gently woke him up and told him I was there. He said hi, I said hi, Cori told him everybody was there and asked if he wanted to wake up. He said "I don't want to be forced to wake up."
He maintains his sense of humor and his independence.
Paula brought some fudgy, peanut-buttery goodness. She offered one to Sarge which he enjoyed. He also asked "You didn't smuggle in a joint, did you?"
He also tried to tell a joke about five nurses which Cori immediately put an end to because the elderly lady was still in the room.
Carol and I cannot wait to hear that joke on our next visit.
Once again I was overwhelmed by the love between Cori and Sarge. She stood over his wheelchair looking down into his eyes, he sat looking up into hers. You could feel the love, the tenderness and the care. You could feel Sarge wishing he was not in this situation, you could feel Cori vibing that she would take care of him.
You could sense as Sarge looked up at her that she is the one person in this world that he trusts without exception.
We got home and there was a message on the machine from Keith talking about a bad experience with his dog, Cooper. We called him immediately.
Keith and Emily had a frightening experience with Cooper the night before, which resulted in a 2 hour drive in the middle of the night to a pet care facility for emergency evaluation and surgery.
It was heartbreaking to listen to Keith talk about it. Cooper is still at the facility and will be there for a week or so. Keith and Emily plan to drive up during the week to visit and comfort him.
Then there will be rehab; the emergency involved his back and his ability to walk.
My nerves were raw from the visit to Maine. Carol's were too. Then to listen to Keith's story and to know what my son and his wife went through just overwhelmed me.
Apparently I am not much of a thinker. I don't seem able to absorb bad things and to learn from them.
I need to break.
A few weeks ago we visited Paula and Bill and watched THE PATS. I got very drunk. Afterwards I was disgusted with myself. I did not enjoy the game, I did not enjoy Paula and Bill's company, I ruined my wife's day.
I broke that day. Since that day I am drinking much less.
I felt like something broke in me last night, listening to Keith.
I started thinking about all the petty shit I allow to waste my life. I thought about all the warnings I have received in the past year.
Sarge didn't get any warnings. He went from larger than life to a wheelchair in a relatively short time.
My friend Alan didn't get any warnings. He had a stroke many years ago that ruined his life. He hasn't been able to work since and one of his arms is extremely limited in mobility.
He hates it.
My friend Chip didn't get any warnings. He died of a heart attack in his driveway after a day at work.
At the age of 45.
When I was looking at Sarge yesterday, I thought I should be the one in that wheelchair. He should be visiting me.
Sarge has lived his life with gusto. He has always been his own man, fiercely independent and true to his soul.
That is how life is meant to be lived.
I have wasted a large chunk of my life walking in someone else's shoes.
When I got off the phone with Keith I realized that I am not the one in the wheelchair. That it would not solve anything for me to exchange places with Sarge.
I realized that what I want is for Sarge to get healthy and for me to start living.
What I want is happiness for my sons and their women. Contentment and happiness for my wife, who I love so much. Peace and happiness for my brother.
Felt like something broke in me last night.
Feels like maybe I am learning a thing or two about life.
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