I just got the call yesterday regarding my second interview. I am going in on Friday at 11 am EST. Now, keep in mind that the interview process with this company entails three - yes, three - initial interviews before they make a decision to hire someone. If I am lucky and all the planets line up in the atmosphere just so, I may be embarking on a brand new career before another phase of the moon passes!
Meanwhile, down here in the insurance trenches, things are heating up. We've had 80% turnover in the last two months. I'm the last "veteran" in the marketing department and let me tell you, I'm not all that veteran! We had a new person start last week and because A. she lost her glasses and can't see, and B. she's a slow learner, she's not anywhere near working independently. And because we lost the other marketer, it's phone central station around here with me being the go-to person....which just makes me shake my head in wonder. So many people feed their egos by insisting on maintaining a "go-to" status. Lemme tell ya, it's overrated. I'd rather be relegated to the back of the class and do my job in peace! Like they say, the nail that sticks up gets pounded down.
So, wish me luck on the interview on Friday. Not that I need it all that much, but in truth, I need a bit of *something* to get me through this week at work!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Oh, I'm good! Good, I say!
So I go in for my interview yesterday, and I said, "God, if this is meant to be, just let it flow." That was smart thinking, huh?
Yeah it was! The guy loved me and wants me back for a second interview. Yay! However, it will be a lengthy interview process primarily because the FCC (Fed Communications Commission for you foreigners) requires 30 days from the date of posting before anyone can be hired. So, they've got three interviews before they hire someone. I've made it to the second round and unless lightening strikes, I'll make it to the third.
The great, great, great news is that this radio station - oh, I better tell you what the job is - the job I applied for is Account Manager, i.e. radio ad sales. Ok, so this radio station is part of a radio conglomerate that owns 42 some radio stations, all privately held by a broadcaster in WI who loves the business and wants to keep making a lot of money with it. But, did you catch the important part there - PRIVATELY HELD. Family business. No stockholders! No CEO and Board of Directors! No Corporate Evil!
YAY!!!!
Salary, benefits, commission plus extensive training and current accounts to manage while I'm looking for new business. Per-effing-fect. ("Perfect," for those of you not up on my personal lingo.)
Someone's happy. :)
Yeah it was! The guy loved me and wants me back for a second interview. Yay! However, it will be a lengthy interview process primarily because the FCC (Fed Communications Commission for you foreigners) requires 30 days from the date of posting before anyone can be hired. So, they've got three interviews before they hire someone. I've made it to the second round and unless lightening strikes, I'll make it to the third.
The great, great, great news is that this radio station - oh, I better tell you what the job is - the job I applied for is Account Manager, i.e. radio ad sales. Ok, so this radio station is part of a radio conglomerate that owns 42 some radio stations, all privately held by a broadcaster in WI who loves the business and wants to keep making a lot of money with it. But, did you catch the important part there - PRIVATELY HELD. Family business. No stockholders! No CEO and Board of Directors! No Corporate Evil!
YAY!!!!
Salary, benefits, commission plus extensive training and current accounts to manage while I'm looking for new business. Per-effing-fect. ("Perfect," for those of you not up on my personal lingo.)
Someone's happy. :)
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Not Thursday
Hi everyone, just wanted to give you an update that I'm not able to go to my interview on Thursday. Oh, the office politics pool is fraught with rip tides. The Holy Macro lady is on yet another vacation for the rest of the week and my co-hort here at work announced yesterday he has surgery on Thursday. Oh, apparently him snipping his nether regions is more important than me finding another job! Sha! So, I'm going in on Monday afternoon instead. I'll keep you posted!
Monday, July 31, 2006
Get this!
I received the following two emails today:
"ok I will out you down and the new contract for Oom's office ok."
Translated: Ok, I will put you down as the new contact for Oom's office, ok?
"it is contracting for equitrust ed needs to sign on the signature Mark Woods is writing a piece"
Translated: It is a contract for EquiTrust. Ed needs to sign it in order to appoint Mark Woods who has some new business to write.
And this from so-called business professionals!
Kiss my grits and grit my teeth!
"ok I will out you down and the new contract for Oom's office ok."
Translated: Ok, I will put you down as the new contact for Oom's office, ok?
"it is contracting for equitrust ed needs to sign on the signature Mark Woods is writing a piece"
Translated: It is a contract for EquiTrust. Ed needs to sign it in order to appoint Mark Woods who has some new business to write.
And this from so-called business professionals!
Kiss my grits and grit my teeth!
Bad case of the gripes
Oh, do I have a bad case of the gripes! Ooo, I just wanna gripe everyone's head off! You ever have one of those days when you really want to have a good day and even though you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, you keep thinking to yourself, "Stay positive, don't let little things get to you." Well, it wouldn't work if you worked here, that's for sure!
You ever work for one of those people that need to take psychotripic meds just to get through the day? You ever work for someone who assumes that because they are losing their grip on their life, so are you? You ever work for someone who seems not to notice the amazing things you do on the job everyday, but seems to have a knack for zooming in on irrelevant issues? And then calling you into her office to drill you about it? That is the woman I work for.
Yes, I work for Cruella DeVille. Since she started working here in February, she has been on vacation FIVE TIMES. Five. First, she took a cruise. The next week she went to Mexico. She's taken days off to spend with her daughter. She took a whole week off to watch her daughter come in 27th place in a sailboat race. She went to Florida with friends after hearing that one friend was driving down there and wanted company. That was a two-weeker. Yes, she has taken all this time and more, and she actually had the audacity to ask me exactly how much time I expected to take during Chris's surgery. To be quite precise, I took.....the day of the surgery off, two hours the next morning, and two hours when he was dicharged. That was it! But, people, come on! Where was my loyalty? I really should have been here. After all, Chris is an adult, is he not? What did I need to be there for?
But that is not all. She called me in her office one day to ask me if my daughter had hacked into our system. My ten year old daughter! A snafu caused her name to be autopopulated by MS Office as the author on all documents I edited and saved. It was quite innocent, but that didn't prevent me from being called on the carpet about it.
THEN she called me in her office last week to ask me if everything was ok in my life. The reason? A new employee ordered the wrong mailer card from our lead company and 5,000 went out wrong. Another new employee paid an agent wrong. And then when I got some contracts together for her, I accidentally included two sets of the same paperwork onto the back of each contract. Ok, the first two things had nothing to do with me and the last? An irrelevant mistake. But she seriously wanted to know if everything was ok with me.
Well, guess what? It's not. I'm deeply frustrated. I took over this position from a person that had embroiled an absolute rat's nest of paperwork into his ever-growing pile of incompetance and then threw up his hands and declared it impossible. I reordered the entire department, designed a process that drastically reduced processing time for contracts and facilitated helping agents write business sooner. I'm doing double the volume of licensing than the guy who screwed everything up and to top it all off, he was doing a lot of things wrong. Me? I straightened it out and am not making his mistakes. But...yet I have to listen to her ask me the most ridiculous, inane, irrelevant questions about whether or not I feel overwhelmed. Or if I'm not happy with Chris or if his health situation is overwhelming me.
I'm finding that her little interrogation sessions with me are making my job almost insufferable.
You ever work for one of those people that need to take psychotripic meds just to get through the day? You ever work for someone who assumes that because they are losing their grip on their life, so are you? You ever work for someone who seems not to notice the amazing things you do on the job everyday, but seems to have a knack for zooming in on irrelevant issues? And then calling you into her office to drill you about it? That is the woman I work for.
Yes, I work for Cruella DeVille. Since she started working here in February, she has been on vacation FIVE TIMES. Five. First, she took a cruise. The next week she went to Mexico. She's taken days off to spend with her daughter. She took a whole week off to watch her daughter come in 27th place in a sailboat race. She went to Florida with friends after hearing that one friend was driving down there and wanted company. That was a two-weeker. Yes, she has taken all this time and more, and she actually had the audacity to ask me exactly how much time I expected to take during Chris's surgery. To be quite precise, I took.....the day of the surgery off, two hours the next morning, and two hours when he was dicharged. That was it! But, people, come on! Where was my loyalty? I really should have been here. After all, Chris is an adult, is he not? What did I need to be there for?
But that is not all. She called me in her office one day to ask me if my daughter had hacked into our system. My ten year old daughter! A snafu caused her name to be autopopulated by MS Office as the author on all documents I edited and saved. It was quite innocent, but that didn't prevent me from being called on the carpet about it.
THEN she called me in her office last week to ask me if everything was ok in my life. The reason? A new employee ordered the wrong mailer card from our lead company and 5,000 went out wrong. Another new employee paid an agent wrong. And then when I got some contracts together for her, I accidentally included two sets of the same paperwork onto the back of each contract. Ok, the first two things had nothing to do with me and the last? An irrelevant mistake. But she seriously wanted to know if everything was ok with me.
Well, guess what? It's not. I'm deeply frustrated. I took over this position from a person that had embroiled an absolute rat's nest of paperwork into his ever-growing pile of incompetance and then threw up his hands and declared it impossible. I reordered the entire department, designed a process that drastically reduced processing time for contracts and facilitated helping agents write business sooner. I'm doing double the volume of licensing than the guy who screwed everything up and to top it all off, he was doing a lot of things wrong. Me? I straightened it out and am not making his mistakes. But...yet I have to listen to her ask me the most ridiculous, inane, irrelevant questions about whether or not I feel overwhelmed. Or if I'm not happy with Chris or if his health situation is overwhelming me.
I'm finding that her little interrogation sessions with me are making my job almost insufferable.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Copping the Insanity
Andrea Yates is not guilty of drowning her five children, despite having systematically coaxed each one into the bathroom only to drown them in the bathtub. Number one was undoubtedly duped. But what about number two? And three and four and five? Did they not scream and cry and beg for their life, seeing their siblings lying still and lifeless in a tub full of water?
Andrea Yates was consumed with delusions about one son growing up to be a homosexual prostitute and the media bugging her home to catch her being a bad mother. Tops on the list? Not home schooling well enough. Hey, wouldn't any concerned parent drown their children after facing such horrific thoughts?
It is not that I don't feel that she is a sick woman. It would take an incredibly sick person to systematically destroy each child born of her womb one by one. And I have experienced first hand the mental distortions extreme religion can bring. Heck, I even got a little distorted myself once upon a time. I can relate to having deeply-rooted fears about the consequences of my rotten parenting. I've imagined the future counseling sessions where my daughters tearfully relate my early-morning rantings as I attempted to pry them out of bed or maybe they'll relate the time I threw their little tea table for no good reason. I can just see the counselor sadly shaking his head and making incriminating notes in the margins of his notepad about how I undermined my children's chances for happiness. And I've imagined my daughters growing up to become tragically involved with men who beat them or exploit them or get them hooked on drugs. I've played through hundreds of scenarios where their lives end in some self-destructive act because of the pain I inflicted on them as a parent. Oh, yeah, I have felt Andrea Yates' pain.
But here's the distinction: I honestly believe that there is hope as long as they are alive. As long as they are alive, I have a chance to do it right today. I can't take back the mistakes I've made in the past, but I can admit when I had been wrong and make an honest effort to do better. And I can show them that I love them, I can make better choices as a parent, and I can hopefully make a difference in their life.
With life, there is always hope. With death, the question of whether we could have ever worked it out is done. Finis. Exterminated. I feel for Andrea Yates and for her five children and for her husband and all the family and friends who will never be able to explore the possibilities for making a good life for those children.
But even as my heart goes out to Andrea, a part of me holds back. In my heart, it is perhaps too much of a leap for me to completely absolve her. But one thing is for sure: as long as she lives, so does the hope that somehow in some way, her life can count for more than the media hype of a juicy story. If anything can be drawn from the deaths of those children, it would be a better understanding of the devastating effects of postpartum depression and the desperate need these mothers have for professional intervention (not religious persecution).
Five innocent children died, but hopefully more will live because of what she has done. And countless loved ones will be spared the devastating grief and guilt and horror of living with the aftermath. No, I can't completely absolve Andrea Yates, but I can hope for a better tomorrow for the millions of women and children who are at risk, and hope that their lives, too, will go on.
Andrea Yates was consumed with delusions about one son growing up to be a homosexual prostitute and the media bugging her home to catch her being a bad mother. Tops on the list? Not home schooling well enough. Hey, wouldn't any concerned parent drown their children after facing such horrific thoughts?
It is not that I don't feel that she is a sick woman. It would take an incredibly sick person to systematically destroy each child born of her womb one by one. And I have experienced first hand the mental distortions extreme religion can bring. Heck, I even got a little distorted myself once upon a time. I can relate to having deeply-rooted fears about the consequences of my rotten parenting. I've imagined the future counseling sessions where my daughters tearfully relate my early-morning rantings as I attempted to pry them out of bed or maybe they'll relate the time I threw their little tea table for no good reason. I can just see the counselor sadly shaking his head and making incriminating notes in the margins of his notepad about how I undermined my children's chances for happiness. And I've imagined my daughters growing up to become tragically involved with men who beat them or exploit them or get them hooked on drugs. I've played through hundreds of scenarios where their lives end in some self-destructive act because of the pain I inflicted on them as a parent. Oh, yeah, I have felt Andrea Yates' pain.
But here's the distinction: I honestly believe that there is hope as long as they are alive. As long as they are alive, I have a chance to do it right today. I can't take back the mistakes I've made in the past, but I can admit when I had been wrong and make an honest effort to do better. And I can show them that I love them, I can make better choices as a parent, and I can hopefully make a difference in their life.
With life, there is always hope. With death, the question of whether we could have ever worked it out is done. Finis. Exterminated. I feel for Andrea Yates and for her five children and for her husband and all the family and friends who will never be able to explore the possibilities for making a good life for those children.
But even as my heart goes out to Andrea, a part of me holds back. In my heart, it is perhaps too much of a leap for me to completely absolve her. But one thing is for sure: as long as she lives, so does the hope that somehow in some way, her life can count for more than the media hype of a juicy story. If anything can be drawn from the deaths of those children, it would be a better understanding of the devastating effects of postpartum depression and the desperate need these mothers have for professional intervention (not religious persecution).
Five innocent children died, but hopefully more will live because of what she has done. And countless loved ones will be spared the devastating grief and guilt and horror of living with the aftermath. No, I can't completely absolve Andrea Yates, but I can hope for a better tomorrow for the millions of women and children who are at risk, and hope that their lives, too, will go on.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Whoah, Nellie!
Alright, everyone, in lieu of actually coming up with something cunning and witty to say, I have devised instead something meant to spark *your* intellect! You know how some people say things that they think makes them look smart when in fact they've misused the word and they look like a pretentious ass?
Oh, yeah. Gotta love it!
Here's a great example: My marketing manager was upbraiding a co-worker for not responding to an agent's inquiry properly.
Manager: "Geeez, Shawn," she said, "He's going to think you totally disked him!"
Me: "Did you just say disked????"
Her: "Yeah. Disked."
Me: "You mean like with a K? As in like a rubber disk?"
Her: "That isn't right?"
Ok, maybe she wasn't trying to sound smart, but in her snooty-patooty way she was trying to show she could hang and use the lingo from the streets but just ended up looking like she just crawled from under her pressed-coal rock. A wetback. Or is it greenback? Anyway, she's also the one who gave me the inspiration for the "Holy Macro" title to my blog posting a while back. Apparently she's not up on her fish.
So, do you have a good one? Share it with my readers and to the commentor with the best story gets a autographed picture of your's truly!!! Now, hey, who wouldn't want that, right!?!?
By the way, did I spell "whoah" right? It does have that "ah" combo, right? Ugh....how to exist without the little red squiggly lines that tell me I've typo-ed again, cuz we all know I wouldn't misspell a word, n'est ce pas?!?!?!
Oh, yeah. Gotta love it!
Here's a great example: My marketing manager was upbraiding a co-worker for not responding to an agent's inquiry properly.
Manager: "Geeez, Shawn," she said, "He's going to think you totally disked him!"
Me: "Did you just say disked????"
Her: "Yeah. Disked."
Me: "You mean like with a K? As in like a rubber disk?"
Her: "That isn't right?"
Ok, maybe she wasn't trying to sound smart, but in her snooty-patooty way she was trying to show she could hang and use the lingo from the streets but just ended up looking like she just crawled from under her pressed-coal rock. A wetback. Or is it greenback? Anyway, she's also the one who gave me the inspiration for the "Holy Macro" title to my blog posting a while back. Apparently she's not up on her fish.
So, do you have a good one? Share it with my readers and to the commentor with the best story gets a autographed picture of your's truly!!! Now, hey, who wouldn't want that, right!?!?
By the way, did I spell "whoah" right? It does have that "ah" combo, right? Ugh....how to exist without the little red squiggly lines that tell me I've typo-ed again, cuz we all know I wouldn't misspell a word, n'est ce pas?!?!?!
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The future of this blog is threatened
As my readers have pointed out, my blog has become more of a "Chris-Watch" than the political and social commentary it started out to be. Part of the reason for that is of course my overwhelming love for Chris, and the entrenched involvement he has in every aspect of my life. Not to mention which, we've had some rather alarming developments lately.
In light of all this, my thoughts keep going back to the role that this blog has played and continues to play in my life. To be quite honest, I've seriously considered discontinuing this blog altogether. Once upon a time, I had a plethora of time on my hands to contemplate the world around me and devise clever and witty commentaries meant to spawn some serious thinking in my readers' minds - whether they agreed with me or not. As a matter of fact, I would often take a controversial stance just to provoke people into more clearly defining what it was they actually believed regarding the issue. That was fun. I enjoyed it.
Then, of course, I figured out how to post pictures to my blog like my good brudda, Chill Daddy. Then my thoughts about my blog began to evolve a little more. It became a way of keeping family members updated on life's carryings-on. However, as life got more and more busy, I found I wasn't even doing that.
And so the question of my blog's future hangs in the balance.
I'm not writing everyday because I simply don't have time. Plus, if I take time from my busy life to write, I want it to have meaning and purpose - especially purpose - and I'm not sure I have a clearly defined purpose for writing at this time in my life other than just a certain vain fulfillment I get in putting my words out into the world which frankly doesn't qualify as meaningful. I still think that using my blog to post pictures to keep my family updated is a good idea, but blogger is not the best medium for posting pictures. There are other on-line services that do a much better job.
So, I'm in a quandry. And my blog-world silence speaks volumes about that quandry.
In light of all this, my thoughts keep going back to the role that this blog has played and continues to play in my life. To be quite honest, I've seriously considered discontinuing this blog altogether. Once upon a time, I had a plethora of time on my hands to contemplate the world around me and devise clever and witty commentaries meant to spawn some serious thinking in my readers' minds - whether they agreed with me or not. As a matter of fact, I would often take a controversial stance just to provoke people into more clearly defining what it was they actually believed regarding the issue. That was fun. I enjoyed it.
Then, of course, I figured out how to post pictures to my blog like my good brudda, Chill Daddy. Then my thoughts about my blog began to evolve a little more. It became a way of keeping family members updated on life's carryings-on. However, as life got more and more busy, I found I wasn't even doing that.
And so the question of my blog's future hangs in the balance.
I'm not writing everyday because I simply don't have time. Plus, if I take time from my busy life to write, I want it to have meaning and purpose - especially purpose - and I'm not sure I have a clearly defined purpose for writing at this time in my life other than just a certain vain fulfillment I get in putting my words out into the world which frankly doesn't qualify as meaningful. I still think that using my blog to post pictures to keep my family updated is a good idea, but blogger is not the best medium for posting pictures. There are other on-line services that do a much better job.
So, I'm in a quandry. And my blog-world silence speaks volumes about that quandry.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
On the mend
Well, if my own eyes are any judge, Chris is faring far better after this surgery than he did after his shoulder surgery. He is in really good spirits and has been since he got out of surgery. First thing he did when his mom and dad and I got to his room last night was give his dad the victory fist. He's in pain but it seems to be a lot less than the with the shoulder. He's off the pain medication pump which means that he'll be going home as soon as the ooze coming off the bone remnant slows down. Sounds lovely, does it not? But his surgeon explained that when you take out a bone, you don't actually take out the whole thing because you need something to anchor the graft to, and the bone that remains has a tendency to ooze. The bad part about that is if you take the drain out too soon, the person could actually die. Well, Chris and I thought about that and decided to just keep the darn drain in. So, he's going home tomorrow instead of today!
As you may have guessed, the surgery went as good as it could possibly have gone. Chris's surgeon said that he expects Chris to start feeling good quite soon - not just "well," folks, but *good.* And to think we would have settled for a mere slight improvement!
I'm more happy than I can express at the improvement I see in Chris already. His whole countenance is uplifted compared to where he was a week ago. Even with the lack of cigarettes, he's going to be a lot happier recovering than he ever was pre-op.
Ok, now that we've got all that settled, back to the good stuff! I'll be back to posting my usual nonsense in no time! And Grandma, I PROMISE you pictures. Not tonight, but soon. SOON.
smiley face
As you may have guessed, the surgery went as good as it could possibly have gone. Chris's surgeon said that he expects Chris to start feeling good quite soon - not just "well," folks, but *good.* And to think we would have settled for a mere slight improvement!
I'm more happy than I can express at the improvement I see in Chris already. His whole countenance is uplifted compared to where he was a week ago. Even with the lack of cigarettes, he's going to be a lot happier recovering than he ever was pre-op.
Ok, now that we've got all that settled, back to the good stuff! I'll be back to posting my usual nonsense in no time! And Grandma, I PROMISE you pictures. Not tonight, but soon. SOON.
smiley face
Monday, June 26, 2006
Update
I don't know about the hotties that work with Dr. Eyke, but I can this about him: he's a spitty nerd. You ever see people that let the spit just kinda build up in their mouth? Yeah, he does that. It's gross. That's what I noticed. What Chris noticed is that he doesn't shake. Not at all. Like when he was holding his hand up to mark the MRI, his pencil didn't waver a bit. Chris felt a lot better about everything when he saw that.
Ok, update! We saw the spinal surgeon, Dr Eyke, on Friday at one o'clock and spent the rest of the afternoon getting fitted for the cervical collar and getting all his pre-surgical testing done. He will be going into surgery on Wednesday morning. It is rather amazing considering all the little details and scheduling availabilities that needed to line up to make this happen! Somehow though, the staff at Orthopedic Associates of Muskegon called in some favors and got everyone on board and making accomodations for Chris. It was faintly miraculous, actually.
The best best best news of all is that this surgery, if successful, will reduce Chris's pain by 50-80%, something that got Chris and I very excited! You have no idea the improvement in the quality of his life by just reducing the amount of pain he has to deal with everyday. Ooops. I forgot about something. Chris doesn't like everyone to know he's in pain so when you see him, just pretend like you don't know about his pain. But anyway, the other thing I am super excited about is that he is going to quit smoking. Dr. Eyke and Dr. Moulton told him outright that the surgery will fail if he continues to smoke. And Chris said in that head-on, deadly sincere way of his, "Whatever it takes, man, I'll do it because right now I've got nothing. Nothing." What he means is that he feels like he is not living up to what he feels he needs to be and do for the kids and I. And it is really making him crazy with frustration. I could tell him a hundred times that I'm not a materialistic person and it doesn't matter to me that he isn't making all kinds of money like he used to, but in his eyes, he just isn't a man. So, let's hope that the surgery not only restores his neck to working capacity, but also gives him a little better outlook on his life!
Anyway, everyone, we spent a wonderful weekend together and really enjoyed just being together with the knowledge lurking in the back of our minds that he isn't going to be able to do much in the way of fun stuff for a while. I want to thank all of you for your good thoughts and prayers. It means a lot! I will continue to update everyone as things progress! In the meantime, however, I'd better get my pictures posted here. I won't have a lot of freetime in the next two weeks or so!
Ok, update! We saw the spinal surgeon, Dr Eyke, on Friday at one o'clock and spent the rest of the afternoon getting fitted for the cervical collar and getting all his pre-surgical testing done. He will be going into surgery on Wednesday morning. It is rather amazing considering all the little details and scheduling availabilities that needed to line up to make this happen! Somehow though, the staff at Orthopedic Associates of Muskegon called in some favors and got everyone on board and making accomodations for Chris. It was faintly miraculous, actually.
The best best best news of all is that this surgery, if successful, will reduce Chris's pain by 50-80%, something that got Chris and I very excited! You have no idea the improvement in the quality of his life by just reducing the amount of pain he has to deal with everyday. Ooops. I forgot about something. Chris doesn't like everyone to know he's in pain so when you see him, just pretend like you don't know about his pain. But anyway, the other thing I am super excited about is that he is going to quit smoking. Dr. Eyke and Dr. Moulton told him outright that the surgery will fail if he continues to smoke. And Chris said in that head-on, deadly sincere way of his, "Whatever it takes, man, I'll do it because right now I've got nothing. Nothing." What he means is that he feels like he is not living up to what he feels he needs to be and do for the kids and I. And it is really making him crazy with frustration. I could tell him a hundred times that I'm not a materialistic person and it doesn't matter to me that he isn't making all kinds of money like he used to, but in his eyes, he just isn't a man. So, let's hope that the surgery not only restores his neck to working capacity, but also gives him a little better outlook on his life!
Anyway, everyone, we spent a wonderful weekend together and really enjoyed just being together with the knowledge lurking in the back of our minds that he isn't going to be able to do much in the way of fun stuff for a while. I want to thank all of you for your good thoughts and prayers. It means a lot! I will continue to update everyone as things progress! In the meantime, however, I'd better get my pictures posted here. I won't have a lot of freetime in the next two weeks or so!
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
I'm still shaking
This morning Chris and I went to see his orthopaedic specialist, Dr. Recknagel (the same wunderkind who patched up Paige's broken wrist) for a follow up visit to Chris's shoulder surgery (which was a radical reconstruction in lieu of a complete joint replacement). Chris and I both let Dr. Recknagel know how much pain he is in everyday. "As a matter of fact, my neck hurts worse than my shoulder," Chris said.
So Dr. Recknagel ordered neck x-rays in addition to Chris's shoulder x-ray. The minute he put the neck x-ray up on the big white glowy view thingy, he said, "This is bad. We will have to get this taken care of today." He turned to his assistant and told her to get Chris an MRI and an appointment with the spine surgeon today and start scheduling a neck surgery.
After saying that to his assistant, Dr. Recknagel pointed to the obviously jagged black line going through Chris's neck and said, "Your neck fusion is broken. We need to repair it immediately or you will most likely be paralyzed." Apparently, all it would take is for him to move the wrong way or trip and fall, and he would be permanently paralyzed.
You have no idea the terror of hearing a statement like that.
"I don't understand!" I said, "Why didn't the ER doctors see that when we were in there just a few weeks ago?!?!"
Apparently they were only looking for NEW fractures. To see a fracture in an old fusion was apparently not worth the trouble to consider a problem, despite the fact that Chris told them about the numbness, the tingling, the light-headedness. No, they sent him home to not only suffer, but potentially a lifetime in a wheelchair.
You see, Chris has broken his neck twice before and his back once. His first injury was when he was 15, and he broke his neck playing football. When he broke his neck again in his twenties in a car accident, the doctors finally went in and put in what is called a butterfly clip (not to be confused with those pretty things little girls like to wear in their hair, of course). We don't know if the fusion failed to heal or if the fusion was rebroken in the rear end collision a couple weeks ago. Judging by the pain and symptoms he's been having since then, however, it is a likely culprit.
So, we expect Chris to be in surgery sometime next week, and Dr. Recknagel told him outright that he won't be back to work for at least a year. A year. On top of which, he is facing either a re-scope on his shoulder or the joint replacement.
I'm still shaking.
However, having said all that scary stuff, as I explained to Chris, this is very hopeful news. To continue living with the pain he has been having was not an option. To be able to look forward to even reducing his pain by 50% would be a significant improvement for him. Between his neck and shoulder, he can no longer do the things that he loves; playing golf, hunting, fishing, playing football, working out, even riding his bike. But if he were able to get his pain under control, life would be so much more enjoyable and he might even be able to participate in all his favorite pasttimes.
As scary as it is to hear that that person you love has a broken neck and could become paralyzed, it brings a huge measure of hope that now that we've caught it, his life could take a huge step in the right direction with these surgeries. Let's pray!
So Dr. Recknagel ordered neck x-rays in addition to Chris's shoulder x-ray. The minute he put the neck x-ray up on the big white glowy view thingy, he said, "This is bad. We will have to get this taken care of today." He turned to his assistant and told her to get Chris an MRI and an appointment with the spine surgeon today and start scheduling a neck surgery.
After saying that to his assistant, Dr. Recknagel pointed to the obviously jagged black line going through Chris's neck and said, "Your neck fusion is broken. We need to repair it immediately or you will most likely be paralyzed." Apparently, all it would take is for him to move the wrong way or trip and fall, and he would be permanently paralyzed.
You have no idea the terror of hearing a statement like that.
"I don't understand!" I said, "Why didn't the ER doctors see that when we were in there just a few weeks ago?!?!"
Apparently they were only looking for NEW fractures. To see a fracture in an old fusion was apparently not worth the trouble to consider a problem, despite the fact that Chris told them about the numbness, the tingling, the light-headedness. No, they sent him home to not only suffer, but potentially a lifetime in a wheelchair.
You see, Chris has broken his neck twice before and his back once. His first injury was when he was 15, and he broke his neck playing football. When he broke his neck again in his twenties in a car accident, the doctors finally went in and put in what is called a butterfly clip (not to be confused with those pretty things little girls like to wear in their hair, of course). We don't know if the fusion failed to heal or if the fusion was rebroken in the rear end collision a couple weeks ago. Judging by the pain and symptoms he's been having since then, however, it is a likely culprit.
So, we expect Chris to be in surgery sometime next week, and Dr. Recknagel told him outright that he won't be back to work for at least a year. A year. On top of which, he is facing either a re-scope on his shoulder or the joint replacement.
I'm still shaking.
However, having said all that scary stuff, as I explained to Chris, this is very hopeful news. To continue living with the pain he has been having was not an option. To be able to look forward to even reducing his pain by 50% would be a significant improvement for him. Between his neck and shoulder, he can no longer do the things that he loves; playing golf, hunting, fishing, playing football, working out, even riding his bike. But if he were able to get his pain under control, life would be so much more enjoyable and he might even be able to participate in all his favorite pasttimes.
As scary as it is to hear that that person you love has a broken neck and could become paralyzed, it brings a huge measure of hope that now that we've caught it, his life could take a huge step in the right direction with these surgeries. Let's pray!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Holy Macro
HI!!!!!
Since it's been so long since I deigned to even glance in the direction of my blog, I thought I would do something charitable and actually post something of interest. However, according to many of my readers, what constitutes "of interest" to them is anything sans the mushy Chris stuff, so now I am going to have to think hard to find something to say since almost every thought I have in my head is connected to him some sort of way.
Hmmm........
Ok, here's a thought. We live in the United States, right? At least most of my readers do (and for those that don't, put on your self-righteous, egotistical thinking cap and pretend your an American for a minute, ok?) Alright. Now, we're Americans. Our official language is English. Less than a third of Americans have had any foreign language instruction, and of those that have had foreigh language instruction, lets be generous and say 2% of them can speak the language fluently.
Ok, now....official language: English. Almost no one - from the order taker at McDonalds to the policeman that responds to my 911 call - can speak anything but English. And let's pretend I'm an illegal immigrant, ok? Now, my number one priority, you would think, would be to learn the native language of the population in which I am attempting to become a member. You know, blend in and everything.
But NO.........!
Every major corporation starts out the voicemail by saying, "If you speak English, press one. blah-blah-blah-espaniol-blah-dos."
Yesterday I went to JC Penney's and the door said, "Push" (which don't even get me started on why Americans are so retarded they have to be told whether to push or pull on a door) and then right below it was the gobbledy gook word for push in some other language (I am going to assume here it was Spanish.)
Ok, people. You live in America. A-Mer-I-Ca. We speak English. Comprende? Don't make us strain our brains to learn your language. Don't cost our evil corporations any more money having to say everything twice. Let us just stay nice and ignorant, speaking only one language and don't bother us with having to figure out what you are trying to say.
Oh, and another thing....about that accent.....
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I sure hope trouble doesn't travel in 3's
Yesterday after Chris picked up the girls from school, he was plowed by some young chick from behind in a hit-and-run accident. We spent all evening in the ER. Luckily, there was little property damage and Chris is going to be all right, but it was scary seeing him so disoriented with his arms and hands tingling. He'd broken his neck playing football and has a butterfly something holding his head to his shoulders, so it was pretty hairy thinking he could have inflicted further damage. And to think of that woman who slammed into him and then just took off. Because of where the accident occured, she was able to escape through a parking lot and hop onto 31 south with Chris having no hope of catching her. Which was just as well, since he was so light-headed anyway. The last thing we needed was for him in his injured state to go chasing some crazed woman with the girls in the truck. Thank God, though, he'll be ok. And the girls were fine because they were strapped in and comfortably leaning back. His neck snapped because he'd been leaning over reading love notes Emily got at school from her crush Josh. Life can be so quixotic, can it not?!
So, today at work I got a call. My brother (ChillDaddy) and his wife (TrophyWife) were involved in a terrible accident around 7 a.m. this morning. A woman ran a stop sign and he absolutely t-boned her. There was no where for him to go and no time to do it. He knocked her vehicle into a parking lot and completely totalled both vehicles. Ray seemed to be ok, but Cindy was having a lot of pain in her back so she spent a lot of time in the ER waiting to see if there was anything wrong. They finally determined that she has whiplash and sent her home with a neck brace and strong meds. Again, thank God it wasn't any worse and the lady who ran the stop sign wasn't seriously injured either. The loss of their truck is going to be felt with their busy lifestyle and four kiddies, but again, at least everyone is going to be ok.
It just makes you realize how tenuous and how precious the lives of our loved ones are, and how important it is to make sure you remember that no matter how busy life is, or how irritated you may get at each other, each day is a gift that can't be taken for granted.
So, today at work I got a call. My brother (ChillDaddy) and his wife (TrophyWife) were involved in a terrible accident around 7 a.m. this morning. A woman ran a stop sign and he absolutely t-boned her. There was no where for him to go and no time to do it. He knocked her vehicle into a parking lot and completely totalled both vehicles. Ray seemed to be ok, but Cindy was having a lot of pain in her back so she spent a lot of time in the ER waiting to see if there was anything wrong. They finally determined that she has whiplash and sent her home with a neck brace and strong meds. Again, thank God it wasn't any worse and the lady who ran the stop sign wasn't seriously injured either. The loss of their truck is going to be felt with their busy lifestyle and four kiddies, but again, at least everyone is going to be ok.
It just makes you realize how tenuous and how precious the lives of our loved ones are, and how important it is to make sure you remember that no matter how busy life is, or how irritated you may get at each other, each day is a gift that can't be taken for granted.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
I suuuuuuuuck!
Yes, I truly do suck. Instead of posting to my blog and satiating my salivating fans, I spent my weekend doing fun, adventurous, cool things with Chris.
At first we were really disappointed that we didn't have all the girls because we wanted to take them to the cabin. Brandie has only been a couple of times and Grace, Emily and I had never been there. The cabin is situated on an isolated turn of the north branch of Muskegon River in an area that is lush, wild and teeming with river life. It has long been a refuge for Chris and his friends to hunt and fish all year around. You can only get to it by boat as there are no roads that go through within walking distance. All of which had me biting my knuckles with anticipation, I wanted to go so badly!
So, instead of hauling kids, cats, bags and wives up there, just Chris and I went. The cabin hadn't been opened, so when we got there we had a spot of work to do. I was dressed all in white (since it was a blistering hot day) but begged Chris to let me mow so I wasn't sitting there while he did all the work. So, we hauled out the two lawn mowers and began hacking through the jungle that had grown up around the cabin.
After a few hours of heavy work, we were both covered in sweat, grass and dirt. Chris suggested jumping in the river, cautioning me that it was quite cold, especially with the extra fast current brought on by the high water. I didn't care! He suggested going in my underwear, but not wanting to traipse about the rest of the day without it, I decided to just go nude. After all, Chris has done it for years and if anyone was coming we'd hear them long before we'd see them.
Chris left his underwear on as he had a change of clothes, but I stripped down to my bare skin and gingerly stepped into the swirling water. Ice cold water engulfed my feet and legs taking my breath away. I went waist deep and then began splashing water over my upper body to get off all the grass and dirt and sweat. I was actually beginning to enjoy it, Chris and I joking about him being Jeremiah Johnson and me being his Indian squaw "Poke-a-lottus" when all of a sudden he grabs me and pulls me over to him, hissing, "Honey, watch out! People are coming!" I shrieked and tried to grab the towel to wrap around my nakedness only to discover the towel had somehow shrunk to the size of a postage stamp as an innocent family of canoers came drifting down the river, paddles in mid-air and jaws hanging slack.
I ducked behind Chris and squatted down in the freezing cold river, completely overcome with giggles at the look of embarrassment and utter astonishment playing over the faces in the canoe. The wife stared stonily ahead, back rigid as her kids gawked, heads bobbing back and forth for a better look.
Chris shouted out to the canoe, "She's just taking a bath," to which the husband replied, "It's a good day for it," something which we laughed about later as it was sure to incite a tongue lashing from his stiff-backed wife. I laughed so hard I nearly fell down in the river.
By the way, you can get pretty clean with just a little Palmolive and cold current.
After our water adventures, we decided to go for a boat ride. He's an amazing river driver which was great because he's been driving the riverboat since he was in his teens; he knows all the shallow spots and logs that are hidden danger spots. He pulled the throttle wide open and I perched myself on the end of the boat in my new Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany's hat threatening to fly off at every moment. Oh was it worth it! We jetted about the river for hours and then trolled while he fished and we chatted. We were in heaven! We then went back to the cabin and made a dinner of steak, salad, French bread and grilled asparagus. Yum!
I had picked up an antique copy of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," and I read it while listening to the gurgling syrupy sound of the river swirling about me as Chris prepared our dinner on the grill. Chris thought it was creepy, and later, when we were shooting at targets around the cabin, he said he'll think twice before shooting a bird thanks to the Ancient Mariner. I can't tell you how cool it was to sit on the deck of the cabin with the sounds of the river and the smell of dinner cooking on the grill as a light breeze played over me and the archaic words of ol' Samuel Taylor C. dancing about the air around my head. Lover-ly.
It was too hot to stay in the cabin, so we ended our day with another long boat ride back to the boat launch and then a satisfying ride home. Which doesn't completely explain why I haven't posted my pictures (although I did forget my camera up on the river, damn it all!), but it does tell the story of how we spent our long weekend: playing, laughing and throwing off our cares for a much needed respite of R&R.
At first we were really disappointed that we didn't have all the girls because we wanted to take them to the cabin. Brandie has only been a couple of times and Grace, Emily and I had never been there. The cabin is situated on an isolated turn of the north branch of Muskegon River in an area that is lush, wild and teeming with river life. It has long been a refuge for Chris and his friends to hunt and fish all year around. You can only get to it by boat as there are no roads that go through within walking distance. All of which had me biting my knuckles with anticipation, I wanted to go so badly!
So, instead of hauling kids, cats, bags and wives up there, just Chris and I went. The cabin hadn't been opened, so when we got there we had a spot of work to do. I was dressed all in white (since it was a blistering hot day) but begged Chris to let me mow so I wasn't sitting there while he did all the work. So, we hauled out the two lawn mowers and began hacking through the jungle that had grown up around the cabin.
After a few hours of heavy work, we were both covered in sweat, grass and dirt. Chris suggested jumping in the river, cautioning me that it was quite cold, especially with the extra fast current brought on by the high water. I didn't care! He suggested going in my underwear, but not wanting to traipse about the rest of the day without it, I decided to just go nude. After all, Chris has done it for years and if anyone was coming we'd hear them long before we'd see them.
Chris left his underwear on as he had a change of clothes, but I stripped down to my bare skin and gingerly stepped into the swirling water. Ice cold water engulfed my feet and legs taking my breath away. I went waist deep and then began splashing water over my upper body to get off all the grass and dirt and sweat. I was actually beginning to enjoy it, Chris and I joking about him being Jeremiah Johnson and me being his Indian squaw "Poke-a-lottus" when all of a sudden he grabs me and pulls me over to him, hissing, "Honey, watch out! People are coming!" I shrieked and tried to grab the towel to wrap around my nakedness only to discover the towel had somehow shrunk to the size of a postage stamp as an innocent family of canoers came drifting down the river, paddles in mid-air and jaws hanging slack.
I ducked behind Chris and squatted down in the freezing cold river, completely overcome with giggles at the look of embarrassment and utter astonishment playing over the faces in the canoe. The wife stared stonily ahead, back rigid as her kids gawked, heads bobbing back and forth for a better look.
Chris shouted out to the canoe, "She's just taking a bath," to which the husband replied, "It's a good day for it," something which we laughed about later as it was sure to incite a tongue lashing from his stiff-backed wife. I laughed so hard I nearly fell down in the river.
By the way, you can get pretty clean with just a little Palmolive and cold current.
After our water adventures, we decided to go for a boat ride. He's an amazing river driver which was great because he's been driving the riverboat since he was in his teens; he knows all the shallow spots and logs that are hidden danger spots. He pulled the throttle wide open and I perched myself on the end of the boat in my new Audrey Hepburn Breakfast at Tiffany's hat threatening to fly off at every moment. Oh was it worth it! We jetted about the river for hours and then trolled while he fished and we chatted. We were in heaven! We then went back to the cabin and made a dinner of steak, salad, French bread and grilled asparagus. Yum!
I had picked up an antique copy of "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," and I read it while listening to the gurgling syrupy sound of the river swirling about me as Chris prepared our dinner on the grill. Chris thought it was creepy, and later, when we were shooting at targets around the cabin, he said he'll think twice before shooting a bird thanks to the Ancient Mariner. I can't tell you how cool it was to sit on the deck of the cabin with the sounds of the river and the smell of dinner cooking on the grill as a light breeze played over me and the archaic words of ol' Samuel Taylor C. dancing about the air around my head. Lover-ly.
It was too hot to stay in the cabin, so we ended our day with another long boat ride back to the boat launch and then a satisfying ride home. Which doesn't completely explain why I haven't posted my pictures (although I did forget my camera up on the river, damn it all!), but it does tell the story of how we spent our long weekend: playing, laughing and throwing off our cares for a much needed respite of R&R.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Fighting well
I have a reputation in my family as being contentious. I believe this widely-held opinion is rooted in the fact that I tend to wear my thoughts and feelings on my proverbial sleeve. Hmph.
However, as Chris can tell you, I'm not so contentious, really, as toddler-ish. I'm incredibly loving, thoughtful, articulate and self-sacrificing at times, and then at other times I can be somewhat selfish, thoughtlessly dingy, easily confused and tantrum-y. C'est moi!
Luckily, Chris happens to adore this about me.
Like how I ran back into the house to turn my sweater around the front way today. Or how I told him what a knuckle-biter that scary movie was. Or exclaimed that was the best tree fort I'd ever seen when in fact it was a deer hunting tree stand. And how when we go somewhere together with me driving, I just take random turns here and there regardless of where we are actually going. You know, that kinda stuff.
The good news in all of this, folks, is that we fight really well. Like last night, which happened to be a beautiful, fun, peaceful and relaxing evening up until the point I got jealous because he told his ex-wife on the phone that he wasn't feeling well when she asked how he was doing. Now that's childish.
But maybe not tooooooo childish.
So after getting off the phone he bopped back to our chair in the living room and invited me to snuggle up with him. After snuggling for a few moments, I felt my feelings soothed to a point where I felt the release to tell him that it was an old habit of him to confide things to her, and he needs to just break that habit if he wants me to be happy. Or something of that sort.
Chris stiffened, took off his glasses slowly, and looked intently into my eyes and said, "Where in the hell did that come from?!"
A question we'd all like an answer to, no doubt. Including me.
After petulantly explaining to him that although I'd rather she never come any closer to him than the other side of the highway, I know that it is better for us and better for Brandie if we maintain a good relationship with her, but sometimes my strong aversion to her raises its ugly head and I get that creepy-crawly feeling all over my skin anyway. The fact that she is beautiful, of course, has nothing to do with my feelings whatsoever.
My explanation didn't make him feel any better. In fact, he said, it concerned him greatly. He, of course, was thinking not of his ex, but mine.
After an hour of me pouting and him with his sometimes silence and sometimes quiet, serious talking with significant questions and statements, and sometimes staring stonily at the ceiling or wall, we came to the peaceful conclusion that we both have a little bit of a jealousy issue with exes.
After that, we took a nice respite from staring stonily at the walls to stare lovingly into each other's eyes.
And that, folks, was the contentious toddler girl in a typical "fight" with the man who changed her entire life. And made it good. And love-ly. And fulfilling. And un-lonely.
This fighting well thing has something to be said for it.
However, as Chris can tell you, I'm not so contentious, really, as toddler-ish. I'm incredibly loving, thoughtful, articulate and self-sacrificing at times, and then at other times I can be somewhat selfish, thoughtlessly dingy, easily confused and tantrum-y. C'est moi!
Luckily, Chris happens to adore this about me.
Like how I ran back into the house to turn my sweater around the front way today. Or how I told him what a knuckle-biter that scary movie was. Or exclaimed that was the best tree fort I'd ever seen when in fact it was a deer hunting tree stand. And how when we go somewhere together with me driving, I just take random turns here and there regardless of where we are actually going. You know, that kinda stuff.
The good news in all of this, folks, is that we fight really well. Like last night, which happened to be a beautiful, fun, peaceful and relaxing evening up until the point I got jealous because he told his ex-wife on the phone that he wasn't feeling well when she asked how he was doing. Now that's childish.
But maybe not tooooooo childish.
So after getting off the phone he bopped back to our chair in the living room and invited me to snuggle up with him. After snuggling for a few moments, I felt my feelings soothed to a point where I felt the release to tell him that it was an old habit of him to confide things to her, and he needs to just break that habit if he wants me to be happy. Or something of that sort.
Chris stiffened, took off his glasses slowly, and looked intently into my eyes and said, "Where in the hell did that come from?!"
A question we'd all like an answer to, no doubt. Including me.
After petulantly explaining to him that although I'd rather she never come any closer to him than the other side of the highway, I know that it is better for us and better for Brandie if we maintain a good relationship with her, but sometimes my strong aversion to her raises its ugly head and I get that creepy-crawly feeling all over my skin anyway. The fact that she is beautiful, of course, has nothing to do with my feelings whatsoever.
My explanation didn't make him feel any better. In fact, he said, it concerned him greatly. He, of course, was thinking not of his ex, but mine.
After an hour of me pouting and him with his sometimes silence and sometimes quiet, serious talking with significant questions and statements, and sometimes staring stonily at the ceiling or wall, we came to the peaceful conclusion that we both have a little bit of a jealousy issue with exes.
After that, we took a nice respite from staring stonily at the walls to stare lovingly into each other's eyes.
And that, folks, was the contentious toddler girl in a typical "fight" with the man who changed her entire life. And made it good. And love-ly. And fulfilling. And un-lonely.
This fighting well thing has something to be said for it.
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