Digging Holes

Posted on 03/31/2013 by Andrew Reynolds

I have a number of hobbies.  One that I really love is digging holes in dirt.  It’s almost as much fun as taking a sledgehammer and breaking up concrete.  It is certainly more fun than taking my brother to the doctor, which I had to do twice this week so on Saturday I starting digging a hole. The cool factor in digging a hole is that you can just look at the resulting dirt pile to see how much you’ve accomplished.

Here’s a hole I dug yesterday in my backyard:

Shoe by Hole

Shoe trying to show how big the hole is

The shoe is there to show the size of the hole.  My shadow is there because I find this whole light source camera angle thing confusing. The whole picture concept I had was kind of a failure, but I was standing there on one foot and didn’t feel like taking another picture.

Let me explain to those of you still reading – This hole is where the valves for the backyard irrigation system used to be.  One of the valves developed a leak that soaked the side of the house.

The vavles

Note the missing valve and the mess the pipes were in.

The one on the far right was the one with the leak.

I know what you’re thinking, why not just replace the valve?  Well to quote The Great Gonzo in the Muppet Movie, “Sure, if you want to do it the easy way.”  The other reason is simply that the person I paid to install the system years ago put the whole thing too close to the house, and these valves fail all the time so best to move it.  Plus we’ve added a lot plants in the back, so it was time to change how the zones were plumbed.

The whole procedure can be summarized like this: Dig out all the dirt around the pipes, cut the pipes out of the ground, replace valve, put everything back while changing where some pipes go, put the dirt back and finally call the doctor to beg for drugs to deal with the terminal backache.

Couldn’t be easier.  It just takes some work, sweat, scraped knuckles, fingers glued together, backache, twice almost falling, a trip to the hardware store for the parts – I thought I had in the shed but didn’t – and a patient wife who is willing to let her husband tear up the backyard for a couple of weeks.

Seriously, it’s totally cool – Here’s a picture of half the dirt I moved:

The Dirt Pile

Half the dirt I dug. Sorry no shoe to gauge the size by.

I didn’t get a picture of the dirt in the wheelbarrow – was too busy putting my shoe back on.  The size of the dirt pile, the amount of wrecked piping and all the tools scattered about proved that I got a great deal done.

Wish I could say the same for visiting doctors this week.  On Monday we saw a doctor and a RN.  Both were very nice.  Both were helpful.  Both helped us see another doctor on Wednesday who helped us get another appointment with a different doctor next month.

None actually said, “Here’s what you do to fix this problem.”  Not one doctor we’ve seen yet has been able to say, “Here is the scientifically proven treatment that cures this cancer.”  That’s the problem with the human body and modern medicine, little certainty and a lot of “Studies suggest…”

We do have a treatment plan in mind and have discussed it with three doctors, two nurses, a receptionist and a couple of people we met in an elevator.  So far they all say, “That is a good treatment and has a reasonable possibility of working, but you need to talk to the specialist that does that.”  There have been no, “That won’t work,” or “you’re out of your mind to try that.”  It’s been a thoughtful, sympathetic, caring and sincere, “let’s get you to the right doctor.”

It’s been frustrating taking my brother through the process.  He’s looking for THE answer, that thing that will cure the cancer and make the world right again.  He looks to me and the doctors, and all we have to offer him is estimates, theories, statistics and uncertainty.

I find it so frustrating.  I can’t fix it for him.  He’s not a plumbing project where I know I can fix it – replace the valve, dig the dirt and solve the problem in 10 simple predictable steps. With the human body there is so much uncertainty that all we really can do is to take our best guess and hope.

And dig holes in the backyard.

Till next week,
Andrew

Posted in Prostate Cancer, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Don’t Want to Think About it

Posted on 03/24/2013 by Andrew Reynolds

What’s this week been like for you?

I thought I’d ask because I don’t really feel like writing about my week today.  Parts of it didn’t work out well and it was far to busy with stuff that I don’t really remember, or likely should forget.

We went hiking today.  It was beautiful Sunday here – spring is fully here, flowers blooming, gentle breeze playing on the grass and the sun warming my soul.

Here’s a picture:

russian ridge view

The view from Russian Ridge

Yesterday we got up too late to go hiking and stayed home.  Heather worked in the garden and I made things in my workshop.  Made two things for the garden – two of these little “thermometer houses” for the little weather station thing we have and this little trellis for the vine that I never remember the name of (Heather tells me it’s a Black Eyed Susan, Thunbergia alata ).

thermometer house

Holds the wireless sensor for our weather station

 

 

Vine trellis

The left side is the little trellis I added for the black eyed Susan vine

I’ve also been working on this fret workbox:

fretwork box

Two sides of the fretwork box.

The turtle box got new pieces for the shell:

turtle box lid

Shell pieces for the lid of the turtle box

I saw my accountant to get my taxes done – there was an exciting appointment.  I was correct in taking a large Starbucks with me.  My favorite question to ask was, “can you figure that out from these papers I brought?”  I am happy to report that I brought enough paper to keep him answering, “Yes, I have what I need.”  Cool.  I am hoping for a refund (there’s still that band saw I want) but I’ve left enough reserve in the checking account in case the IRS and congress have other plans for my money.

But mostly I’ve been trying to ignore the realities of my upcoming week.

Yup, just killing time until next Sunday.  Hopefully this week just won’t happen or I’ll find that I really do have a time machine in the shop and can just skip forward to the end to see how it all turned out.

Generally I try not to project too much into the future, but there’s a big elephant on my calendar for tomorrow.  This one is in a wheelchair – no, not saying my brother is as big as elephant but his “little” problem is.

Tomorrow is the day that I get to spend all afternoon with my brother, doctors, nurses, care coordinators, and way too much information.

I’ve done it before –  for both father and mother.  When my mother’s doctors discovered the extent of her cancer – I stood at her bedside as the doctor told her.  My father was ill for many years before his death.  I was the name on the advanced directive.

Now, once more into a place where I stand by helplessly and try to guide a family member through the medical system.  I ask myself, “Do I have the strength to do this once again?”

I do know one thing to expect for tomorrow: the unexpected.  Doctors and medical institutions have a way of eluding my expectations. I won’t even venture to guess what may happen.

So, while I wait for my CPA to find the money for my band saw and the doctors to pronounce their verdict, let’s talk about you – what did you do last week?

Posted in Hiking, Prostate Cancer, Spirit, woodworking, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Of Kites and Grave Sites

Posted on 03/17/2013 by Andrew Reynolds

As a child I remember March as the windy month.  It was the transition between the rainy California winter and the sun of summer.  It also meant, flying kites.  Mother would take me to the store and she buy me a paper kite kit and a ball of string.  At home she’d cut up some old rags to make a tail while I carefully put the kite together.  Then my older brother Rick would go with me out into the street and we’d try to get the thing airborne.  Neither of us really knew what we were doing, but it was great fun.  In the end we usually managed to get it to fly for a while.

It wouldn’t be too long after Rick and I got on the street that my our friends would come out to watch or help.  Some would have their own kites and on a good afternoon, we’d have two or three flying above the trees.  We’d fly kites for a few days – until they were broken by too many crash landings, or the strings were a hopeless tangle, or the string broke and the kite sent flying off towards the next county.

The March of my youth was a magical time with puffy clouds floating overhead, gentle breezes, budding flowers and chasing dreams, as we rode our bicycles to the park.

Now my view of March is different.  With age and experience the wind is a bit colder, the clouds a bit darker and the kites harder to find.

I’ve written a couple of times about my mother (here  and here) and today she is very much on my mind.  It was six years ago this week that she died from pancreatic cancer.  My brothers Bill and Rick were very close to mother, and her loss was the loss of not only a mother, but also of a friend.  For me, mother was always my fondest childhood memory.  She taught me so much – shaped so many parts of my faith and taught me the art of unconditional love.  Sadly, she and I weren’t always as close and our relationship had it’s problems.  Still, she was important in my life and one of my best teachers.

In the end Mother taught me about how to face death with faith and dignity.  She died in March and we buried her on crisp but sunny morning.

Now each March Rick, will call me and want us all to visit the grave site.

March has changed.

Last year in March I couldn’t go as I was just finishing up my treatments for prostate cancer so we delayed to May.  The year before, I wasn’t sure we’d go at all – because Rick was still recovering from his surgery for prostate cancer but he’d recovered enough by late March to make the trip.

Our habit has been for me to pick up each of my brothers and have lunch before we drive out to the cemetery – burger and fires, or a pizza, or anything else our wives won’t let us eat at home.  We’ll remember stories of mother or of the times we had as boys or complain about the horrible state the world has fallen into.  It’s difficult to get Bill across the grass in his wheelchair, so for the last couple of years he’s asked to stay in the car.

This year March has taken another on another shadow.  Bill joined us for lunch today but not the drive to the cemetery.  It’s just emotionally too much for him now.  In the last couple of posts I’ve mentioned taking Bill to the doctor.  This last week we got the news – he is now facing his own case of prostate cancer.

So this year, for the first time, only two brothers took the drive – only two stood by the grave.

But three brothers have been touched by the same cancer and I wonder why.  Now is not the time to figure that out.

When Rick and I arrived at the cemetery I drove past our maternal grandparents’  graves before arriving at the field where mother lies.  The sun was shining and the grass had dried out from the last rain.  The sky was big with a few clouds drifting by.  There were flowers everywhere and on one grave a bright red pinwheel turned in the breeze.

We should have brought a kite. The wind was picking up and it would have been a perfect day for flying it.

Posted in General, Prostate Cancer, Spirit, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | 7 Comments

Busy

Posted on 03/10/2013 by Andrew Reynolds

It’s one of those weeks where I am just exhausted beyond belief and should skip writing.  I thought about just posting a few pictures instead of writing, but I’ve been so busy that I’ve not gotten anything done.

You see, I’ve been doing lots of things – lots of movement – but on the things I’d really like to do, nothing.  I’ve been moving nonstop and then today I lost an hour – I’ve never understood daylight savings time.  Wouldn’t it be better to just compromise and set the clocks ahead 30 minutes and leave them there – forever?

Well, I haven’t been able to figure out much this week.  I tried to do a little brain storming for today’s post (got more storm than brain) and started with my normal starting point, “What has my view of the week been?”

“Blurry,”  was my first answer.  Then I stopped thinking all together.  That’s not completely true – I did come up with a few opening lines for today. Best not to share all of those.  My favorite was, “I’ve been thinking of having a mid-life crisis…”  Sadly I couldn’t think beyond that.

I’ve been trying to think what I’ve done this week and how I’ve interacted with the universe.  Mostly it’s been work.  I’ve had a major upgrade to do at the office on one of my servers – spent most of the week on that – including yesterday and part of today.  Yup, I worked on a Saturday and a Sunday.  And no I don’t get overtime.

Have I mentioned I am tired?

Then there was Tuesday.  That was the day I took my brother to the hospital.  I’ve never been to the hospital where his procedure was to be so I made sure that he got a map, written instructions of where to park, how early to get there, name of the clinic, doctors,  and any other information that might help. I looked up the driving directions on Google and my brother told me, “Don’t worry I’ve been going to that hospital for 30 years, I know where everything is.”

You’d be correct in thinking it didn’t go well.  When we got there it turns out there is a major construction project that started about 3 months ago.  None of the maps were correct.  The written instructions were useless and the parking garage listed, turned out to be a giant pile of concrete rubble.  The roads were closed, the guy directing traffic was confused and my brother kept insisting that the building we need to get to was just the other side of that pile of rubble.

I finally found the ambulatory surgery center, gave my car keys to the valet, put brother into his wheelchair and made it to check-in with 15 minutes to spare.  Too bad it turned out to be the wrong clinic.  The medical assistant was very helpful, “Sir, you need the endoscopy clinic.  Here’s a map.  You’ll have to drive there – with the construction you can’t walk and it would be too far anyway.”

Back down.  Get the car.  Load the wheelchair.  Put brother in car.  Wait, no, put brother in car then loaded wheelchair.  Drive.  Different valet.  Ask three people where the clinic is – two less than helpful answers: “Take the escalator down.  It’s on the left.”  Ever take a wheelchair down an escalator? The third person actually stopped long enough to tell me that the elevator was just the other side of the gift shop – which was nowhere near that escalator.

It all turned out fine.  Got the clinic on time, filled in tons of forms and the procedure went better than expected.  I delivered brother back to his apartment and he’s recovering very well.

When I got home I had a bit of a collapse and before you could say, daylight savings time, it was time to go back to work.

Feels like I’ve been working ever since.  I did manage some shop time yesterday and today. Still working on the turtle box.  I am working on the final sanding and getting ready to put on the varnish.  It doesn’t look too much different from last week so the effort of getting the camera seemed wasted.

Today I’ve tried to relax a bit and rest up so all I’ve done was to go to church, grocery shop, login to the office for a few hours, work in the shop for some hours, made a big pot of spaghetti sauce, heated pizza for dinner, put gas in my car, went to the hardware store, took out the trash and stopped by Starbucks to undo my diet.

Then I sat down to write and couldn’t think of a thing to write.  Sorry that I don’t have any pictures to share.  Maybe next week I’ll get busy and write something.

Till next week,
Andrew

Posted in General, Spirit, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments