Monday, February 12, 2018

The C Word

Last April, I was having allergy issues. I was on my way into work with a sore throat, cough and my sinuses feeling like an over-inflated balloon. I have had those attacks before and, knowing the process and progression, made an appointment with the doctor. It was during the drive to the doctor that I discovered the lump. It was tiny, in the soft part of my neck just under where the jawbone meets the ear.

I mentioned it to the doctor who explained it was probably nothing. He gave me some antibiotics for it and advised me to use compresses. I was told to make another appointment if it lingered beyond four weeks. I decided not to say anything to anyone at that time. It was nothing and would probably go away and I didn’t want to worry anyone. I know people want to be there, but sometimes that just adds way more stress to the situation. I didn’t want to be asked how I was or be sent uplifting texts, I just wanted to get the facts of what was going on.

A month went by and the lump was still there, so I went to the doctor who then ordered an ultrasound. By that time, my cough had progressed to the point it was getting in the way of my life. I do quite a bit of public speaking and webinars. I could barely speak a sentence without igniting a coughing fit. By this time, I told John what was going on, but still kept it all contained. The results of the ultrasound led the doctor to believe I should be referred to a cancer surgeon.

I decided to let a couple of people in on what was going on. I still had no diagnosis and I found great comfort and escape in my everyday life. Nobody bringing it up unless I did. I finally had my appointment with the cancer surgeon late in August. He was amazing. I only knew what I had seen in movies and TV, but my doctor was personable and friendly and I was immediately at ease. Well, as much at ease as anyone can be when the conversation includes words like Lymphoma. He told me he wouldn’t really be worried about the lump on its own, but when he put that with the cough I then had for five months and a few other things, he told me there was cause for concern, but he wanted to perform a PET scan.

A PET scan involves being injected with radioactive sugar, waiting about 40 minutes and then having a full body MRI type scan. The test looks for cells that are aggressively feeding on the sugar. All I had going through my head at that time was the phrase “lit up like a Christmas Tree.” The whole process was starting to take a mental and emotional toll. I kept thinking about Ryder and how this might all affect him. He is still settling into the fact he has a forever family, that he finally has the feeling of safety that is letting him relax into his life.

I had the PET scan and then the wait for the results. I had my appointment for September 26, several weeks after the test itself. I discovered that I would pick up a copy of the lab report myself, prior to the appointment. I kept it in the envelope for a couple of days and then took a look. I knew there would be no going back once I saw the results. I scanned the report and for the most part it seemed ok. There were a few things, but it seemed there was nothing major.

Finally the day of the appointment rolled around and the doctor went through the results, telling me that while there was a tiny abnormality, he believed it was nothing and that it was something we should follow and monitor for a bit, but as of that time, no further action was needed.

After 6  months of waiting and doctors and stressing, I had my answer. I told the few people that knew and let them know all was well. A week later, my phone rang. It was the doctor’s office. There was an addendum to the report. Things didn’t look as great as they thought and the doctor wanted a biopsy as soon as it could be scheduled. The appointment was scheduled for a few weeks out. I told John and two other people. The emotional back and forth was making me depressed, anxious and short-tempered.

The procedure itself was not a big deal, I was awake and watching on the monitor as the needle biopsy was performed. It was done pretty quick and then I had another three weeks to wait for the results. A few days before the appointment, they pushed it out by another two weeks. I would not get the results until just after Thanksgiving.

And then I got laid off. The company I worked for was having issues and those issues made it impossible for me to do my job. When everything with the company happened, I expected my position to be officially terminated within a week or two. Instead, it was closer to six months. I was going to leave that position a few weeks later, they just changed my timing.

I got the results the week after Thanksgiving. The biopsy came back great, but as it was a needle biopsy, there are two things to consider; A) There is no cancer B) There is cancer but the needle didn’t get to that part. So, for now, it is assumed that I am in the clear and I will have a few appointments to just monitor and follow-up until the doctor is convinced there is nothing to worry about.

So for now, for me, there is nothing to worry about.

Monday, October 09, 2017

Vanishing Rights

So yesterday, I got into an argument with someone about what is happening with rights here in America. Gay rights, women’s rights, etc., and I was basically shut down and told that this is America and rights don’t just get taken away. I was told this isn’t a Muslim country and it couldn’t and wouldn’t happen here. But here’s the thing… It is. Happening. Here.

On Friday, October 6, Health and Human Services (HHS) made it way easier for employers to opt out of covering contraception on religious or moral grounds. That means, employers have been given a pass to discriminate against women.  And the White House will back them up. In March, Trump revoked the 2014 Fair Pay and Safe Workplaces order which was primarily meant to help working class women from workplace abuse. Now, women are more vulnerable to sexual harassment. Now we can all grab women by the pussy at work whenever the whim hits.

They have also cracked down on abortion, which means that while a baker can refuse to deliver a cake to a same-sex wedding, a woman should not be allowed to terminate her rape or molestation related pregnancy. Mike Pence wanted to change the definition of rape to include only “forcible rape.” Isn’t that term a bit redundant? He also believes that “the hard truth of our experiment with gender integration [in the military] is that it has been an almost complete disaster for the military and for many of the individual women involved.” Perhaps if the Department of Defense did not make it a point to cover up sexual harassment and assault, and if they not provide $41.6 million (according to the Defense Health Agency) worth of Viagra to the troops, perhaps the gender integration experience might have gone just a bit better. At least for the women involved.  

Moving onto gay issues and the military ban on transgender Americans. This does not affect me directly, but discrimination of any type should not be tolerated. By anyone. I don’t know what it is like to be transgender and I personally don’t understand it, any more than I understand what it is like to be a woman or a person of color, but that is irrelevant. Transgender people are just that, people. We are talking about banning people from serving their country because they were born a certain way? Let’s ban rapists. Let’s ban spouse abusers, child abusers, molesters, white supremacists and people who spread hate and intolerance. I have never understood that way of thinking. When my mom found out I was gay, she said that if I were a murderer, rapist or child molester that I would at least be “normal.” It seems Trump’s administration feels the same way.

This became more obvious when the administration argued in federal court that a 1964 civil rights law does not protect gays, lesbians or transgender people in the workplace. The law, Title VII, outlaws discriminating against workers “because of sex.” It now seems ok for me to be treated as less than a second-class citizen just because of who I have sex with. In the privacy of my own home. With the curtains drawn. And the door locked. Of course, this can’t happen here, in America, but I think someone forgot to tell that New York Skydiving company who fired an employee for being gay.

Last month, the Department of Justice backed the rights of a baker to not make a wedding cake for a same-sex marriage between two men. The baker didn’t want to do it because it went against his religious or moral beliefs, yet I am going to assume the man has provided services to adulterers, liars, thieves, worshippers of false gods, people who take the Lord’s name in vain, people who have coveted their neighbors wife and those guilty of any number of transgressions that the baker should probably smite instead of offering them baked goods. I’m fine if someone wants to make decisions based on their religious or moral beliefs, and if they don’t want to make a cake for my wedding, I’m cool with that. I am happy not to fork over my money, but they do not get to pick and choose which moral and religious beliefs they will stick to while ignoring others because they are not convenient to that person’s lifestyle. My step dad was one of those people. Go to church, pray, smile, gossip about what people are wearing and then go home and beat the children.

Pence and Trump also threw their support behind Roy Moore, a Republican candidate from Alabama who has said “homosexual conduct should be illegal” and who Trump describes as “a really great guy.” Again no surprise as the Vice President has long been open about his views on gays. He has stated that being gay was a choice – for the record, being gay is not a choice, but being narrow-minded and spreading a hate filled agenda is – and he stated “societal collapse was always brought about following an advent of the deterioration of marriage and family.” So my relationship is bringing this country down. But then, Pence also believes that “Despite the hysteria from the political class and the media, smoking doesn’t kill.” This is a man that wants to defund HIV and AIDS programs to “provide assistance to those seeking to change their sexual behavior.”

Let’s remember, the deviant sexual behavior he believes needs to be changed is same-sex sex. Not molestation sex. Not rape sex. Not abuse of power sex. But same-sex sex.

On September 1st, Trump nominated James Bridenstine to be the next Administrator of NASA. Bridenstine has stated “many studies have shown that both a mother and father are essential for raising successful and healthy children.” Not only does he attack same-sex parent families, he goes after single parents, grandparents raining their grandchildren and any other family that does not fit into his outdated picture of what that should look like. There is no typical family anymore. And the fact that someone believes my son is better off in the foster system or in an abusive mom/dad family than with us is beyond repulsive. But the good news is that none of that happens here in America. He also lacks any formal qualification in science or engineering. And he rejects the scientific community when it comes to climate change, but that is a whole other topic.

In 2017, Karen Handel was elected to the US Congress and when asked about same-sex couples adopting, stated “I have to honest – my faith calls me to a different place on the issue.” So in other words, she is openly against same-sex couples adopting and with all the rest, against my family.
While I know this is America and there is no way my rights can be repealed, lessened, taken away or eroded in any way, these things are cause for concern. And for anyone who thinks these things don’t apply to them because they are outside a certain demographic or group, think again. It won’t stop there. Today, gay people are the easy target. We are visible and for some reason, we scare some people. I don’t know why.

The thing that scares me is that it never stops “there,” wherever “there” is. And the target shifts as time moves on. Black people. Women. Native Americans. Mexicans. Chinese. Jews. Muslims. Wait and do nothing long enough, and eventually you will become a target as well. And you too can know the joys of having your rights whittled away while those around you tell you that you are being silly and overreacting. 

Saturday, March 18, 2017

The Long Goodbye

My friends, family and anyone who reads this blog knows I have a challenging relationship with my mom. My mom is a person who, for whatever reason, has chosen to fill her life with anger and resentment. For the past thirty years, I have tried reasoning, arguing, pushing, distancing and incorporating every communication model and method I could get my hands on. Nothing changed except my levels of hope and frustration. I always held hope that one day, somehow, something would happen and my mom would see all the opportunities for joy she has in her life. I held hope for her to be the mom I always wanted and needed her to be. I wished for her to embrace my nephews and also my son. She has repeatedly chosen not to. I have watched her push away friends and other family. I have been witness to her unleashing the most hateful and hurtful words on people I love. She has directed those hateful words to me as well. When my mom found out I was gay, she told me that I would ‘get AIDS and die and go to hell because that is what I deserved.” That is one of the milder statements to come from my mom.

And still, I held hope. People told me to give up and I didn’t listen. I would call or visit her for an hour and then need days to detox from the experience. For over two decades, I have been struggling with what to do. I turned it all inward, examining what I could do or say differently. I have come to realize what others in my life have known for some time. There is nothing I can do differently. My mom is making her choices.

Three days before this past Christmas, I stopped by her house for a visit. As always, I hoped Christmas would soften her just a little and as always, I ended up being surprised when it was the same experience that keeps repeating itself. I chose to stay quiet while my mom delivered her well rehearsed monologue for over an hour, berating me for being a bad person, a selfish and self-centered son who treats her as though she were garbage. I left that day and again, it was almost a week before I felt like me again. My entire life, I have watched her drive people away. Her best friend, her daughter, my niece and anyone else who comes into her life.

Just over a week ago, I received an email from her. The first line apologized for the last visit. I felt my hope rise as it always has. The rest of the email was full of the resentment, anger and hate that has come to define my mom. In the email she states that I have the characteristics and traits she hates in people. In that instance, I made a very difficult decision I had been battling for over two decades. Thursday evening I took a deep breath, exhaled and severed my relationship with her.

I feel both sad and relieved. I still hold hope that one day she will have that epiphany and chose for happiness, joy and family and at the same time, I also know that I can’t have her in my life in any capacity at this time.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Saying Yes... Again...

March 7, 2009. I wrote and published a blog post titled Just Say Yes.You can read the post for yourself if you like, but basically it was about the decision to say yes to possibilities. At some point, I moved away from saying yes and moved toward maybe or perhaps later. From there it was only a matter of time until I heard myself saying no and then later, I can’t. I have said I can’t so many times. Too many times. I have said it aloud. I have said it to myself. I have put it on a loop and let it become my mantra. I can’t became a blanket. It felt safe. Safe is good. I’ve had a stroke. That is when I can’t started. I can’t walk. I can’t type. I can’t stand on one foot. I can’t run. I can’t (insert something here. I probably said that too!)

I can’t didn’t stop there. It started oozing into other areas of my life. I can’t be fit. I can’t be happy. I can’t be a good dad. I can’t be me. Me? In many ways, I have forgotten who I am. I shelved myself.

I became the partner.
I can’t be me. 
I became the business trainer and counselor.
I can’t be me. 
I became the dad.
I can’t be me. 

In between being a partner, dad and my job, I had absolutely no time to be me. I also didn’t even realize I had completely packed away who I was to be what was needed. I needed to be a good partner. I still do and I think I am. I also need to be a good dad. I think I do an OK job there. I enjoy my job. I’m very good at it. I have a great reputation. Robb knows. Robb can do it. Robb is the guy. I love the compliments. I love the trust people have in me. And at the same time, they have trust in a version of me. Me, and yet not me.

Just over a week ago, I hit a wall. I felt confined and suffocated. It wasn’t really triggered by anything and yet it was everything. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I started to feel scary things. Thing that were tinted with, I hesitate to even type it out now…

I love my family. I take great pride in my family. My family means the world to me. Ryder is the greatest love of my life. Ever. And yet, there it was. It wasn’t even really there. It was more like when you have a dream and you know someone is there even though you never actually see them. You just feel their presence. Yes, there it was, lingering just outside the edge of the picture. Resentment. When that word popped up in my head, it was shocking. It was scary. It was shaming.

How could I have that feeling when I am so in love with my family? My husband?  My son? My awesome-sometimes-frustrating-always-fantastically-perfect-just-as-he-is-son? It was a horrifying revelation. And since I have a very vivid and active imagination, I immediately projected decades into the future and saw how my whole family had fallen apart and John hated me, Ryder was in jail and I was miserable and alone and it all started at that moment. The moment I let my family down. The moment that slight tinge of resentment came into my life. Our lives.

Years ago, I was doing business with a company in Seattle. It was on a training visit that I got meet Deli and Halley. I had spoken to Deli many times on the phone and every word she said would sing through the phone with such authenticity, passion and so full of, well, Deli. Before meeting her, she became one of my favorite people. I loved her calls. She had me at hello, putting my spirits in a good place. I met her wife, Halley on that visit in Seattle. We spent a brief amount of time together and since then, we have always stayed in touch in that Facebook sort of way, liking updates, commenting here and there and then having the occasional conversation in Messenger. One thing I have come to LOVE about the universe or life or whatever name you want to give it, is when I can look back at seemingly insignificant moments and see those moments as the first steps toward something yet to be.

Halley and Deli have both been AMAZING sounding boards and my go-to people when parenthood rears it's overwhelming head. I knew Halley had been working on a book. Life, Incorporated: A Practical Guide to Wholehearted Living. I actually pre-ordered it months ago and it landed in my hands the morning following my resentment meltdown/revelation. I was still reeling from the shame and shock of it all when I opened to read the first few pages during a break at work. I was stunned. It was like Halley had channeled me. One of the first things she talks about, is the bullshit term of work-life balance. How we have so many places where we spend our energy. So many buckets to fill. Work. Marriage. Family. Me-Time. You get the point. Halley goes on to talk about how we attend to each one on an as-needed basis often times never getting to the Me-Time bucket. That was me. Ryder needs me more than anyone. And I gladly and freely give him my time. Time with him is my favorite time in the world. Even when I am at the end of my frustration rope, he is still my favorite person. His nose makes me smile. It would make you smile too. It’s so small and covered in freckles. He hates the freckles. I think they are spectacular! Anyway, Halley then goes on to talk about how, when she and Deli had their son, how she threw everything into being a mom and provider. And nothing into just being Halley.

I looked around for the cameras. Had she been watching me? Watching my life? I was only a few pages in and already I knew the reason for my meltdown. I had no Me-Time. ME-time. Not getting Ryder to bed so I could be alone for two minutes before dozing off to sleep time. I mean the Me-Time that charged my batteries. Fed my spirit and gave me joy. The Me-Time that let me be Robb. Just Robb. Not Robb the dad – although that is my favorite label! Not Robb the husband. Just Robb. I realized I had not only been neglecting the Me-Time bucket, I had put myself in a box and sealed it with duct tape. Not cool duct tape. Plain, boring, gray duct tape. I neglected and ignored myself. It was making me cranky. It was making me less patient. It was making me wade into the swamp of resentment and that was one place I definitely did not and do not want to be.

As much as I was loving Halley’s book, something was wrong. Something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I set the book down for a few days to let things simmer and to see what would emerge. Enter Cindy. Cindy is one of the people I have been so blessed to know these past two years. I don’t get to see her as often as I would like. She lives about a two-hour drive away in St. George, Utah. But, she was in Vegas this weekend and we had lunch yesterday. As always, the conversation was wonderful and her energy infectious. I told her about Life, Incorporated and the epiphanies I had already in the first few pages of the book. Conversation drifted and "Year of Yes", by Shonda Rimes came up. I had seen it. I never read it. Cindy has. We talked about Christina Yang. Christina was my favorite character on Grey’s Anatomy. When Christina left the show, so did I. Inwardly, I am a lot like Christina Yang. I related to her more than anyone on the show. Something in me decides I need to read that book. Now. Before I read anything else. Before I finish Life, Incorporated.

I bought the e-book and the audio book just before leaving work and started it up as soon as I got in my car. Within a couple of hours, between the audio and e-book, I was over half way through the book. I realized what was missing when reading Life, Incorporated. I was reading saying maybe, possibly, and a few other things. But I wasn’t saying yes. I realized I could read that book all I wanted to, but like anything, if I didn’t say yes, it wasn’t going to do anything.

Like I did all those years ago, I decided I am going to say yes. Not just to possibilities, but to things that scare me - thanks Shonda – To things that will fill me with joy – Thanks Halley – To things that will make me a better dad and a better husband. I am going to say yes to Me-Time. I will say yes to playing more games. Playing more in general. Yes to being silly. Yes to being a badass. Yes to being me. And yes to saying no to I can’t.

Now I am off to restart Life, Incorporated. Because… Yes!