Childhood Magic

Since writing that last blog post, I have been in a bit of a down mood. The past three weeks, I have spent a lot of time with my niece and nephews, and being around them helps me shut out the rest of the world. I leave my own issues behind as we play, swap stories and just hang out. They really are the best remedy for whatever ails me. Evenings are usually the quiet times, the kids go to bed and I like to sit outside alone, looking up at the sky thinking and pondering life.

Sunday, feelings I had been keeping stashed away came to the surface and then after I wrote that last post, all those emotions just seem so “there” and I have been feeling a bit fogged in. I know it’s just temporary and that it will pass, but being in it right now makes it all seem so vast and unending. I am feeling sad, disappointed and disillusioned. I am doubting myself and I hate that.

I want to talk about it, but then I don’t. I write about it and then feel a bit of regret for putting it out there. I try to keep it inside and it just simmers and expands. I do things to distract me and yet it is all around me, the not so quiet ghost keeping me company. I can’t really sleep even though I would love to just escape everything for a good eight hours or so. I’m not feeling depressed, just sad. I am also trying not to do anything to numb the feelings, but really go through it and experience the whole thing. Not sure that is the best decision, but I feel it is just something I need to do for now.

Today the boys were free from school, and instead of doing what I thought I wanted, and staying in my mood and just kind of being alone, I decided to take them out for the day. It was an amazing day during which I spent much of it lost with them in the land of make believe… We walked some nature trails and every mark in the dirt was a T-Rex or Velociraptor track to be investigated and pigeons became Pterodactyls to be feared. Chase is in a werewolf phase and kept sniffing the air and telling us that his senses were speaking to him. After that, it was time for lunch and as Chesney decided he wanted to try sushi and Chase has to do pretty much whatever Chesney does, we were off for some California, Tempura and Tuna rolls. Chesney dove in while Chase decided he hated sushi… That is, until he tasted some and then he declared it was his favorite dish. After lunch, we went to another park which is located at the base of a mountain and then there were more werewolf adventures while also keeping a lookout for meerkats and mountain lions.

I love how being around them really forces me to stay in the moment, to be present and just be. I am in awe of how anything and everything is so possible, even when it is not. They don’t let the impossible get in their way. Whatever is in their minds just is, and it is usually cool and magical and awesome! I wish I could tap into that thing they have, where problems vanish after a short time and anything goes including hunting dinosaurs, being werewolves or Spiderman or invisible, they just do it with no question. 

And if all else fails, there is nothing like fart noises to get the giggling going and make everything else just fade away.  

In The End

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships lately. Not necessarily any one particular one, but more my relationship experience in general. More specifically, why they always come to an end. I understand why the earlier ones did. I didn’t really know what I was doing. I would try and change for the other person or I would look for someone to make me feel complete or validate who I was, and I learned that just never works. Later, I tried to do things differently. I was clear about what I wanted and didn’t want, but it always seemed to result in an end to something I thought was much more permanent or lasting than it turned out to be.

I am not really sure what I am doing wrong. I know I have my flaws, but that is what makes me human. I am working on them, or trying to and some of the rough edges I have definitely smoothed out, but there are still some sharp points here and there and hopefully, those too will soften. In the midst of all my broken attempts at love and the desire to have something that lasts, someone to share my life with, I see other people that it just seems to work for and I wonder what that did or are doing that I am not. My Godmother, for example, has been married to the same man since before I was born and they are still together. Ulco’s foster parents. His sister Paula. It’s the same thing. And I know they had to fight, get on each other’s nerves and at times probably even detested the constant breathing in and out of the other person, but somehow, they found a reason to keep going and they made it through.

I wonder if it is just that some people are lucky enough to find that one person that just fits while some of us are trying to force the pieces together only to discover at some point that they just don’t go. I used to dream of love and a relationship that would last. I’ve dreamt of finding that one person who would just be there. Not complete me, but share my life, cheer me on and not walk away no matter the storms that came along. In some ways I have found that person. Ulco. But even that did not work out the way I imagined it would. When I got married, I got married for forever. I never had a moment’s nerves or doubt. Not a second of cold feet or wondering if I was making a mistake. I never once thought that we would just get a divorce if it didn’t work. Our not working was not even among the most minute of possibilities in my mind and heart, and yet it came crashing down. We have managed to rebuild something different, and maybe better than it was, but not the dream I had.

There have been a few since Ulco – Manuel, Baris and then David and each time when I felt I had met my person, I let myself go, I jumped off the cliff with no thought to what might happen if I hit the proverbial ground. And I did hit the ground, each and every time. And it hurt. A lot. It still hurts in many ways and I wonder how to not hit the ground next time, if there ever is a next time.

I still dream of finding my person, but as I get older and as I crash and burn more and more times, I wonder if love is really meant for me. Not in any ‘poor me’ way, but I wonder if I should just give up on it and pour myself into my hobbies and travel and just be totally selfish in my life. I really don’t want to be hurt anymore, but I know and understand that even in the best relationships, hurt is a part of it. It’s the fire that either burns everything up or makes everything stronger than it was before. I just don’t know if I have it in me anymore. I don’t know if I can give my heart out again because I really can’t seem to get it right. Yeah, I know some of the things I have done wrong and could have done different or will do different in the future, but I don’t understand why I keep ending up in this same place when I keep trying different things, each time hoping for a different outcome and each time being surprised and hurt and alone in the end.

On Being an Uncle

I have been in Vegas the past week. As it looks, I will stay here for some time. David and I decided to end our relationship and that is all I will say about it here, only mentioning it to answer the obvious question. I have very mixed feeling about being in Vegas. On one hand, it is really not my city. I don’t really gamble and have no need to get falling down drunk, make an idiot of myself or do stupid things just because I am here.

What I love about being in Vegas is being near family. My sister and I, while we didn’t really have any issues between us, we didn’t have a relationship that went any deeper than the occasional email or seeing each other here and there with years in between. Now we see each other everyday and it has been really great reconnecting. So far so good, but I can imagine she is going to get tired of seeing my face all the time.

But my favorite part, I have to admit, is spending time with my niece and nephews. They are just amazing and if I am feeling sad or low, just a couple of minutes with them picks me right up and puts a smile on my face.

In the past week I have been here, my nephews have decided to become little versions of me. It is amusing, humbling and scary. I am not used to being idolized, watched and copied. The want to use my toothpaste as they told me it is just better than theirs. They want to get their hair cut like mine and now every morning, I have to put product in their hair so they can take their mohawks to school, which is how they put it. The other night, Chesney and I were in the car and I was playing Lana Del Rey. He decided that “Radio” is his favorite song and a couple of hours later he suggested I take him to see her when she comes to Las Vegas.

Chase, being a year younger, has to do everything Chesney does, so I have two little versions of myself running around, competing for time and attention, each one asking me here and there if they are my favorite. The other night, I took Chesney to a concert against bullying, to kick off anti-bullying month and Chase was devastated that he couldn’t go. To add insult to his injury, Chesney and I got free t-shirts at the concert and he has not really taken it off in the past two days.

Today, I will take Chase out for some one-on-one time. First, we are going to the shark pool at the Golden Nugget, as he has never seen a shark in person. But the main thing we are going to do is go to the car museum and see Ferraris, Lamborghinis and other super expensive and cool cars. I also made sure Chase has a camera so he can take pictures, which he loves to do He likes to use my camera and at seven, he already takes his time and thinks of what he wants to shoot. Perhaps another photography buff in the family? I would love to be able to take all of them of photo safaris here and there.

This morning, I came outside to spend some time alone and write and predictably, within five minutes, Chesney was at the door asking to come out. I am surprised how paternal I am. It is chilly and I made sure he had long sleeves, socks, and all those things on before coming out. Chase followed within another five minutes and now they are sitting next to me composing some masterpiece in GarageBand.

Tomorrow, I am hoping to do something with Bentley. I would love to go out to Death Valley super early in the morning and shoot some pictures. She has a dance tonight, so not sure she will be up for that this weekend. I am also looking to see how I can hook up my camera to her telescope so we can both try our hands at space photography. I am not sure how much she really is going to embrace photography. It seems to come and go in phases, but maybe she just needs someone to encourage her and drag her along, which I am more than happy to do. Tomorrow will depend on how tired she is and what she wants to do, but Death Valley is on the agenda for sometime very soon. Maybe next weekend.

So these days have been a mix of feelings, but there are definitely many good things happening while I am here. I love that I get to b a part of their lives and a part of who they are becoming. I hope when they look back, they don’t see me as the uncle who bought them things, but as the uncle who loved them, spent time with them and introduced them to some very cool stuff. I love being Uncle Robb.

First Steps

Sometimes, just when I think I have things figured out and under some sort of control, things smash and break. And just when I think I know myself, that I understand myself, I realize I don't know myself as much as I thought. The past month has been an intense personal experience. And when I had the opportunity to step up and be the person I want to be, I took the complete opposite approach and now there is just a lot of emotional debris around.

I have written a little here about my life growing up, being told I was nothing and nobody and that I wuld never be anything and nobody would ever love me. As an adult, I ran from that and tried to distance myself from it in every way possible. I dove into therapy, books, teachings, meditation, travel and anything that would help me improve myself. The past month, I have really been dealing with the concept of letting go and letting things be what they will. The problem with that is, that I was focused on letting go of what was happening right now, today. I didn't realize how tightly I was and am holding onto the past. I didn't realize how much I still buy into or believe those things about myself even though I “know” things to be otherwise.

This morning, I was having a conversation with someone who reminded me that the past is in the past. I say it is and it isn't. In time it is, but inside me, it isn't so far away. I guess it has been such a big part of my identity for so long that to let it go would be like leaving behind an arm or a leg. I am not sure I know who I am without it. But what I do know, is who I am with it, and that person is not who I want to be. That is a person that hurts people. That says things he knows will cut someone off at the legs. That person is someone who destroys the very things he wants, and worse, he does it on purpose.

So now, I need to focus on letting go of the past. I just don't know how to do it. I have tried ignoring it. I've tried running from it, controlling it, taking about it, writing about it, but still, it is there. I don't want it anymore. I really don't want it anymore. I want to look in the mirror and see myself as I am, with no judgment, no dislike, no hate and no anger. I want to see the person the people who are important to me see. I want to see the person they talk about when they talk about me. I see glimpses of him, but I don't see him.

When Rich died, I thought it would be over, but that seems to have intensified my thoughts. He is no longer here, has not been a part of my actual life for over twenty years, and still, I give him the power and the control. And if I am honest, I do it willingly even though I know it is the wrong thing. I don't know how to really let him go. I don't know how to truly and permanently leave things in the past. I know I can never forget, but how can I make them mere memories instead of letting them have an active part in my life?

I can't play the victim card again. I don't want to. It isn't who I want to be. When someone who knows me well can look at me and tell me they don't know me at all, that is beyond scary. And when I look at myself in light of the past few weeks or so, I don't know who I am either. I wonder if I do and I just don't see it right now, or if I really don't and need to figure all that out. I don't want to be this Jekyll and Hyde person anymore. I just want to be the best version of me, whoever that is.

I don't know how to do it, so I will just focus on what I want and take a step. And then another.

Making Friends

I have been feeling a bit odd lately, like something has been missing and I haven't really been able to put my finger on it. Not until the past few days, at least. Now that I know, I am not really sure how to go about changing it.

When I first moved back to California, I stayed with Ken and Charise and their children. It was wonderful spending time with people that I have known so long and mean so much to me. I was only going to be in the US for two months before heading to Brazil. I spent time with them, my sister and her family and a few other friends in Colorado and San Francisco. As everyone knows, I ended up not going to Brazil and well, I now find myself in a situation that is really starting to wear me down.

I don't really have any friends here at all. I have David. I have my roommates, but aside from them, there is nobody to phone for a drink, a cup of coffee or just to chat. I didn't really realize this until David left for Burning Man, where is has been out of touch since Monday and will continue to be for a couple more days. I was with my sister for a few days, so didn't notice it, but when I came home, I realized I was alone. And, of course, having limited mobility means I can't just grab my camera and go. I hate the fact my social life is tied mainly to one person, something I really don't think is healthy for either of us. On top of that, it is making me feel isolated and alone and I really don't want it to bring me down.

I did actually get a job at the beginning of August. I went through training and broke my ankle on my first day of work. I was hoping to meet people that way but then I ended up not working. I still have a job, but the reality is I am out until at least the end of September. And we are still in August. And even then, most people live quite spread out and you only see them every once in a while when scheduled to work together.

I went online to see if there were sites to meet local people. There are, but even the ones that say they are for friendship only, end up being about sex and dating. I thought about Craigslist, but looking into the platonic section of the site, I saw that for most people, platonic means dating and “fun”, neither of which I am looking for.

Living abroad, it is super easy to make friends. Either, there are local people that love to interact with and befriend foreigners, and then there are the other foreigners that you run into everywhere and end up hanging out with. To make casual friends when abroad often takes no more effort that walking out the front door. Within a week of arriving in India, I was invited to weddings, over to people's homes for dinner and had a full social life, just like that. In Turkey, I made friends the first day there with other teachers. In Tanzania, Ulco had a little party when I went for a visit and again, I knew people. Here in the US, it is not that simple. People are in the place they are comfortable, they are not actively looking to bond with others. I don't want to hang out at bars, and hanging out at Starbucks means sitting with a bunch of people with headphones in, engaged completely with their laptops and iPads.

So now, I am trying to figure out what to do. I have looked for clubs in things I am interested in, and there is a photography club that meets once a month quite close to me, including this coming Wednesday, so I will give it a try and see how it goes.

That still leaves the next four days full of nothing and nobody. If anyone has any ideas, I am happy to hear them.  

Casting Call

Three weeks ago today, I broke my ankle. I thought the most annoying parts of the whole thing were the emergency room, the insurance hoops to jump through and adjusting to life in a cast and on crutches. But I was wrong. The most annoying part of breaking my ankle and being in a cast, is that it seems the cast compels anyone and everyone around me to tell me their broken bone story. Or that of their cousin. Former roommate. Grandparent. Next door neighbor. Serial killer who lived down the street that nobody suspected. I hear them all day long.

I hear about how old they were, how they broke it, how many places and how bad. I hear about the orthopedic specialist getting it back in place or inserting pins, bolts, screws and other hardware and how they can still feel it when the weather is bad or they step, turn or sneeze just so. I have learned more about the skeletal structure from random strangers in the last three weeks than the rest of my entire life.

I have learned about the problems with plaster casts and how I should be so happy to have a fiberglass one. And everyone has tips on how to handle the itching, something I have not yet had to deal with and hopefully it will stay that way.

I have tried headphones and dark sunglasses, but people just won't let my cast pass them by without sharing. And I already can't stand when total strangers need to share parts of their life with me. I don't care and I don't want to feel obligated to nod, agree, smile and reply. I think someone intruding into my space when I am obviously occupied with something and forcing me to engage is rude. I just want to listen to my music or read my book or have a root canal.

Maybe some people find comfort in the fact that other total strangers they would never speak with in any other circumstance now have a reason to come talk to them and share a moment of their personal history. I am not one of those people. If you have never met me, please, just let me do whatever it was I was doing before my cast inspired you to share. Feel free to include me in your personal story when sharing with another random stranger or friend later, but otherwise, I don't want to know because I honestly do not care.

On Doing Acid

Today, I did acid. I didn't mean to, it kind of just happened in the way that surfing the internet often leads to using dangerous chemicals. It wasn't planned. When I woke up this morning, I was just looking for a solution, something to help get through the day. And let me tell you, the acid worked. But not without a scary side effect and a few moments of panic.

Let me explain...

I currently live with three other people; David, J and BP. A couple of weeks ago, we received some uninvited guests in the form of drain moths. Drain moths are those little black flies that at first glance seem like fruit flies as they invade the kitchen where fruit is often kept, but then they also invade the bathroom where we don't tend to store fruit. At first, it is no big deal, a single solitary fly. And then there are hundreds. On the cabinets, the counter, the dishes and toothbrushes. We have tried to get rid of them, but to no avail and this morning just before leaving for the day, David says he is going to look online to see how to get rid of them. Being laid up and with not many options for action right now, I volunteered for the task and started my research. I learned things I never knew I was lacking and before I knew it, I had identified the culprit not as the fruit fly, but as the drain moth. Drain moths are commonly called that as they tend to breed in the drains of kitchens and sinks, feeing on the decaying flesh and slime that lines the inside of most, if not every household drain. They are annoying to get rid of, because you have to kill the eggs, and to do so is no so easy.

One solution was to use a non-toxic drain cleaner and insecticide to both get rid of the attracting scum and slime and also kill the unhatched eggs. Just as I found the solution, J yells at me to come talk to her so she can complain about the flies and I, of course, happily offer up a solution and my bank card for her to go to the corner hardware store to pick up supplies. She does just that, but instead of bringing back a biologically friendly and safe solution, she brings back something that contains sulfuric acid. The plastic bottle is wrapped in another protective bag and there are skulls and crossbones all over the label. I don't have the best feeling about. That is some serious stuff, and people on CSI have been known to use it to get rid of a body. When I mention that I said biologically or eco-friendly, she told me it was all they had and that the guy told her it would work.

Being on crutches with a questionable balance at best, I decided to leave it up to J to carefully pour the liquid in the the drains, wait fifteen minutes and then rinse thoroughly. I remind her to open all the windows and make sure the dog is secured. I also give her some sunglasses just to make sure she doesn't accidentally blind herself. I am in my room, and I can hear her shouting out random updates. “Wow, this stuff is amazing!” “Oh my God, this is really working!” “This stuff smells like rotten eggs!” That last thing she said as the unmistakable smell of sulfur wafts into my room. Then I hear her scream “Robb! Robb! Get in here now!” I have visions J melting like the witch from Wizard of Oz. What would I tell the police? Would they believe me? Would I need to give DNA? And I had no alibi except that I was in my room. Alone. That never goes over very well.

I decide to hop my way across the hall and in the bathroom, is a formerly white bathtub that has turned the color of poopy brown. My first thought was that J had poured acid all over everything, but it turns out, it was a reaction to the fumes. It looked so bad, I made the immediate decision that all future showers would be done outside, under the hose. We rinsed and rinsed, filling the bathtub and letting drain. The color lifted slightly, but not to where it made any difference. J went back to the hardware store and they gave her those magic eraser sponges. I can tell you with certainty, they don't work. At least not on bathtub stains caused by a chemical reaction to the sulphuric acid fumes. All I could think was that I did not want to buy a new bathtub, and I started thinking up all kinds of plausible excuses to give the landlords. 

We knew right away that we would need some sort of detergent, but the acid liquid is not to be mixed with any other chemical, so we filled and drained the tub. Making sure all the acid was rinsed away and then tried a tiny bit of the toilet bleach gel, the kind that sticks to the sides. We tried a tiny little spot and it worked perfectly. We filled the bathtub with water and put a little bleach in it to let it soak. That combined with a little of the gel bleach to get the higher areas and the tub looks better that it ever has.

As of now, the flies in the bathroom are gone and hopefully, they will stay that way.

Whoever said dropping a little acid couldn't be a good thing?

My Near Death Experience

If you're planning on having a near death experience such as breaking your ankle or any other bone, I would suggest doing it in a country other than America, because the processes and red tape and all that makes up the healthcare system here drove me close to insane. It went something like this...

Friday, August 9, I was standing outside Trader Joe's in Long Beach when I took a little step, my ankle rolled and popped three times. Cut to me on the ground saying a few choice words at high volume that had mortified moms covering their children's ears while my ankle instantly begins to inflate. The paramedics arrive, put on ice and tell me I need to get to the hospital. They called an ambulance, and while I was enjoying the overly dramatic Grey's Anatomy feel of it all, and it was all about me. Then they told me it would be really expensive and since I have no idea how insurance works here and I was close to home, I called David and he took me to the emergency room.

In spite of the lack of dishy doctors and slutty interns that TV emergency rooms seem to be overflowing with, the process in the ER went pretty quick. I was immediately shoved into a wheelchair and within a short time they were snapping all sorts of pictures of my leg, confirming that it was indeed broken, not sprained. The doc said that this break is better than a sprain, less painful and it heals better. Yay, I thought. They put on a temporary splint, told me to see an orthopedic surgeon on Monday, August 12, and shoved me out onto the angry, wild streets of Long Beach all wobbly on my new crutches. I had very little pain over the next few days and didn't really need anything stronger than an Advil. So far, so good.

Monday arrived and I called my doctor first thing in the morning for a referral to the orthopedic surgeon. I was informed my doctor can't refer me unless he sees me and he had no opening for over a week. I finally convinced one of the nurses there to contact the ER, get my x-rays and go from there. They do and then I am told that an approval first needs to be obtained from my insurance before they can refer me. Cool. No problem at all. That was Monday. A few scattered phone calls during the week and suddenly Friday morning I am told the insurance company needs six to eight months – yes, months – to approve a referral so I can get a cast for six to eight weeks. They then told me to go to one of two ERs and start all over. Their actual advice was to take a blanket, pillow and cooler with me as it would be a long wait. I thought they were joking, so I headed to UCLA Harbor Medical Center.

On my way there, I get a phone call from the Workers Comp rep telling me they will be handling everything. By this time, I am on a bus half way to UCLA Harbor and she said that was fine, just go with it and she gave me all the information. I get to UCLA Harbor, hobble around to the ER entrance, all but disrobe before passing through the metal detectors and then stand in the line to register. To say the ER was busy doesn't come close to describing the number of people. And with the pillows, blankets and coolers, it looked more like a bunch of sick people camped out for a music festival than an ER. I finally got to the counter to register and was told it would be at least twelve to fifteen hours before I could even be seen, much less have anything really looked at or arranged. The man at the desk told me I should go to Long Beach Memorial, which is close to my house and get taken care of there. As it was already three in the afternoon and I didn't have any camping supplies with me, I took his advice and hobbled back to the bus stop with my less-than-happy face on.

On the bus, I called the ER I originally went to, which is close to LB Memorial. They don't do casting at the hospital. What? So they gave me two numbers to call. Both were no answer and so I decided to call LB Memorial before schlepping all the over there only to find out they would not do anything. The nurse on the phone said they didn't have an orthopedic surgeon on staff, but they call them in as needed and suggested I come on over. I take the metro to the hospital, go in the main entrance dripping in sweat from the hot day and the upper body workout that comes with crutches only to discover that the ER is on the opposite side of the hospital, at the end of two seemingly endless corridors.

Once I got there, I signed in and was taken in immediately and within thirty minutes of arriving, I was once again on an x-ray table ready to have more pictures done. The tech asked me if it was my right ankle. I thought the temporary splint and bandages would have made it pretty self evident, but confirmed her Nancy Drew-like suspicions. And then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I was on the x-ray table, but nothing was going on. Turns out, the system needed to be rebooted and it was not coming back up. I really didn't care. I was so exhausted, it felt great to lie down on the cool table. Twenty minutes or so later, we head to another x-ray room, pictures were taken and I was sent to the transitional waiting room where I was almost thrown up by some big guy with obvious stomach issues. I passed the time looking around for steamy doctors and interns like on Days of our Lives or ER, but there were none. They must have all been hanging out in the cuter wing of the hospital. Even a dead body on a gurney would have made things more interesting, but that didn't happen either. I started talking to the guy next to me. I asked what he was in there for and he told me a chihuahua bit him on ankle. While his girlfriend started laughing, I looked at it, saw nothing but commented on how lucky he was to even be alive.

A few minutes later, they took me out of the hospital to a bungalow that had been set up as I guess their regular ER is now too small. The nurse comes in to inform me I will be getting a tetanus shot. I told her I was pretty up to date on those things and was pretty sure I had been given one just about two years ago. Then I heard them at the nurses station complaining that a tetanus shot had been ordered for the wrong patient. I had heard about these things happening and it didn't really put me at ease.

Tetanus shot never happened and they gave me the good news that while the bone was broke, all the tissues and muscles were perfectly fine, just sore from the break and that no surgery would be required. A nurse which was about as close to heavy breathing material as I would see that day put on a new temporary splint and sent me home with a referral for an orthopedic surgeon on Monday.

Monday morning. I call the doctor they referred me to and a rude woman answered the phone and told me that since it was workers comp, that they needed the rep to phone them and then fax over a letter. I called the rep but she didn't answer. I called her a few times during the day, but always got voicemail. Another office called me back from the calls I had made Friday and I gave her the info and she said she would try to sort it on her end and get me in later in the day. I never heard back.

This morning, I called the workers comp rep who is really very sweet and she had been out ill all day Monday. She called around and got me an appointment for Thursday. So, finally, two weeks after breaking my ankle, I finally get my cast! Yay.

If this had happened in India, Tanzania or most other places I have been in the world, it would have been sorted and taken care of with no hassle at all. My experiences with doctors, emergency rooms and hospitals abroad have always been amazing. People give me looks of shock and horror when I mention stays in hospitals in India and Tanzania, but I can honestly say the experiences were fantastic, well, as fantastic as a hospital stay can be, and MAX Healthcare Hospital in Delhi is probably one of the nicest hospitals I have ever been in. The room was more like a hotel than a hospital. And the staff in Tanzania after my stroke were beyond amazing. Even the ladies from housekeeping would bring me fresh fruit and then came to say goodbye when I left.

I wondered if maybe I was expecting too much, but I think when someone needs medical help, it is already stressful enough. Throw in the hoops, long waits, and what seems like being given the run-around when all I wanted was just to get things taken care of and it gets incredibly aggravating. Most people have been really nice, but the process itself is a mess. And there are just no eye candy distractions to make any of it worthwhile.  

Forty-Six For My Forty-Sixth

Yesterday, I turned forty-six. I remember a time in my life when that sounded like such an old and wrinkled number, but now that I am here, it doesn't feel that way at all. The past few years have been amazing, difficult, challenging, incredible, magical and infuriating to use but a few adjectives. I have decided to start this year off with a list of things, people and events I am thankful for. Instead of going into the year on a slippery slope, I want to start from a base of thanks and then go on from there. Here are forty-six things I am thankful for, some on-going, some just happened once, but they are all amazing and valued... And in no particular order of importance.

1. Ulco
2. Getting to know my sister Laura and her amazing family
3. Meeting David
4. Learning to ride a bike again
5. Being able to hike in the Grand Canyon, Bryce, Zion, Arches, Valley of Fire and Joshua Tree
6. Long talks that begin with “I have a question...” or “If you...”
7. Sharing red wine
8. Feeling inspired again to pick up my camera
9. Taking pictures with my talented niece who I hope falls in love with photography
10. Early morning Garageband sessions with my young nephews
11. Spending a week at my sister Ava's house
12. Losing thirty pounds :-)
13. Being able to drive again
14. Walking to the beach from my front door in just a few minutes
15. Seeing dolphins while walking on the beach
16. Thrifty ice cream
17. Having a beer under the stars in the desert
18. Having people who believe in me, especially in those moments I don't
19. Falling in love
20. Reconnecting with people I had lost touch with like my Godmother and my aunts, who I can't wait to see again in person
21. Impromptu morning dances and plays performed by Christina's gorgeous daughters
22. Feeling like myself again
23. Being able to say “I'm sorry” and rebuild relationships
24. The realization that an old dog (me) just might be able to learn new tricks
25. Being Uncle Robb - Officially and unofficially
26. The people who have been there and helped me, even when I was too embarrassed to ask
27. Learning to ask for help
28. Rooftops
29. Friends around the world
30. Life – I have had a close call, but I'm here
31. Being able to laugh at myself
32. The courage to let someone else see who I am
33. In and Out... How I have missed you all those years!
34. Having a marvelous kiki in the car
35. Skype and FaceTime – So I can see the people I miss
36. My health
37. Weekly calls with Laura
38. Feeling good about the future
39. Learning to be more me
40. Caring less what other people think
41. Better music selection on my iPhone – Thanks David ;-)
42. Warm summer beach days followed by cool evenings
43. The moments I can sit calm and just be
44. The ability to stop and really look at things, not just pass them by in a hurry
45. Having more than forty-six things to be thankful for
46. The knowledge that there are a lot more things to be thankful for heading my way

A Little Further Down The Road

It is almost almost eighteen months further down the road since the stroke. A lot has happened. And a lot hasn't. Yesterday I had one of my “off” moods, the kind I used to have all the time about a year ago. The moods that would make me want to stay under the covers, turn off my phone and just hide out until everything passed. As usual, I have no idea what triggered it. Nothing major happened. I actually woke up in a very good mood and had a great morning. And then, like so many times before, I felt the gathering of the emotional clouds and the slight change in myself. I tired to ignore it and occupy my mind with other things. I cleaned a room. Vacuumed the house. Went for a walk. Watched some videos and even took a nap, but nothing helped in any way and soon, I felt the all consuming mood swing I still don't understand or know what to do with. While I wanted to hide out and avoid people, I decided not to. Everyone could tell something was going on and so I just said I had a bad stomach and left it at that. I don't know how to explain what happens and that makes it all the more frustrating.

To make it worse, when those moods hit, I feel I am back to the beginning. The fear of another stroke, the before and after comparisons. My balance goes and I find myself having to hold onto walls when I walk. My vision makes it hard to read and I find it difficult to concentrate. The mood swings come by very rarely, but the intensity hasn't let up at all. What has changed is now there are people around and it really scares me. I wonder what they will think and how they will react and I find myself getting angry at them for not understanding something I myself don't understand.

The mood has passed now, but not the memory of it or the fear of it coming back. I know it will come back since it always does, but I really don't know what to do when it is happening. I don't know how to avoid it. I don't know what I need to do to get through it faster. Logically, I know what is going on, it is the emotional part that baffles me.

A year and a half ago, I thought this would all be over with by now. I thought I would be back to me but instead I am still discovering who that person is. I still catch myself doing things or reacting in ways the “old” me never would. I mis parts of myself and I want them back. Aside from the ability to feel hot or cold on my left side, I want parts of my personality back. My confidence seems to have gone someplace and I wonder where the guy is that went to Iraq on holiday or did so many other things people said were not possible.

I have written a lot about vulnerability and being out there emotionally and open to things, but so many times I don't know if I really believe it or if I am just using it to try and give some sort of meaning to the things going on around me. I am trying to find an explanation and there just isn't one.

And what really gets me, is that I know how far I have come in the past eighteen months. I have gotten back so much and again, the logical part of me knows this, but the emotions just don't always connect. Kind of like when I get hurt on my left side and I know it should hurt, but I don't feel it. Its both there and not there all at the same time. I am starting to feel like I might be alienating people or maybe just alienating myself and I really don't want that to happen.