Out Of The Closet...

My wife has been reading my blog but denying it. I thought using THIS photo in my last post might flush her out. I was right (surprise, surprise).

She voiced displeasure that I would use a picture of her with her tongue sticking out and wearing reading glasses. I responded, "Photos don't lie, except the ones where you use Photo Shop to remove the wrinkles."

I asked her which photo she would have preferred. She said, "The one of me and Michael Douglas."

So here is that one.

I feel obligated to let my reading public (both of you) know that the "Michael Douglas" in this photo is actually a waiter at the Hofbrauhaus in Munich, Germany. He too could carry many mugs of beer. Mmmm!

My Wife Is Leaving Me...

Not really, but it's a catchy title.

Actually, we were talking last night and she brought up her best friend who had gone through a bout with breast cancer a few years back. In the midst of the battle her husband broke camp and left.

My wife, now facing a hard few years with me, said she couldn't imagine how a spouse could abandon someone in their darkest hours.

I asked for at least two weeks notice.

See, I still have a sense of humor.

Dove of my Life....

A few weeks ago I was taking a walk on the trails on my property when I came across this broken bird's egg. I always take my camera on these walks because I never know what I might see. I snapped a photo but thought it was kind of sad and didn't use it until now.

I'm always looking for some metaphorical relationship between my photos and my blog. This time there is no need.


I was walking on the same trail, in the same spot a couple of days ago when I came across this little guy. Lucky paid him no mind. It was nice to know that there was more than one egg in the nest.

Life goes on.....


Of course you know to click on images for larger view!

Mother's Day Blues.....

My parents were mere adolescents when I was born. The good news is that I still have them in my life. They live about 100 meters from my home in a house that my Grandfather built. I see them nearly every day, if even for a couple of minutes, and feel guilty if I don't (Mom sees to that).

I told my folks about my diagnosis early on but spared them the details. Thankfully neither of them knows how to "google." My Mother however has been watching me with that eye that only Mothers have and as my symptoms become more obvious she becomes more motherly. (I can only eat so much).

This past Sunday I told them I needed to sit down with them about their affairs. There is a real possibility that they may outlive me and I wanted to make sure they had wills, funeral arrangements, and insurance in a place that was easy to find.

The conversation went well and I was pleased to find they were well prepared. Then they took the opportunity to turn the tables on me. They drilled me for half an hour with questions about my illness. I answered them in my best clinical voice...... then I began to crack. Then my Mom began to crumble. I went for a glass of water. I took a long drink, composed myself, and went back into the room.

My Dad said, "You always try to beat me at everything." It was an uncomfortable attempt at humor though true in every way. He taught me chess at age five and never LET me win....I had to beat him on my own.

I hugged my Mother like I always do. She wouldn't let go......I sobbed, "I'm so sorry. "

I live in dread of losing my parents but I can not bear the thought of what my death would do to them.

Whew! These things are killin' me!

Non-Sissification....

After yesterday's rather depressing piece, I feel obligated to let everyone (both of you) know that things haven't always been this bad. In fact one day my Dad and I caught 27 fish. Here's the photo to prove it. I usually became impatient rather quickly on these fishing trips, but as I recall we hardly had time to eat our customary Bit-O-Honey.

I thought I would share a rather humorous anecdote that ended in a freefall (not to be confused with a free-for-all).

My baby sister (two years my junior) was always the risk-taker amongst the four of us (as demonstrated in the baton twirler photo). I was the oldest and had two brothers younger than the two of us.

As we grew old(er), had families and careers she continued to confess a desire to skydive. As in jump out of a plane from a very high altitude, falling at a high rate of speed, planning on a large piece of fabric to break your fall enough to survive, thus experiencing extremely high doses of natural adrenaline. I was all for the high without the plane and such.

For her birthday one year I (who then lived in Memphis) went online and purchased her a skydive package at Perris Valley, California (She lived in San Diego).

I flew out a few months later on a casual visit and she squealed, "This is so great! We can skydive together." I was caught in the manhood dilemma (an instance where you know you are about to do something fundamentally stupid to avoid the sissy word).

So we drove to the desert, took a five minute introductory class, watched a 30 minute video of their lawyer telling us the papers we were signing meant if we so much as slipped on a banana peel in the parking lot they could not be sued, and then got on the plane.

It was a twin engine plane carrying about ten other jumpers and a pilot with a bucket of KFC between his legs (could I sue if the pilot choked on a drumstick.....NO). My sister and I were jumping last because as novices we were tethered to other (non-sissy) professional jumpers.

It took several looong minutes to climb to the required 14,500 feet. We then leveled off as one jumper after another leaped enthusiastically out the open door. My sister was woo-hooing.....I was near sensory overload. As my new best friend (strapped to my back) and I made our way toward the door I reached a point where I could see the jumpers as they fell away from the plane. Let me take a moment to alert any of you who have watched films of skydiving and thought, "Boy that looks like fun!" BE ADVISED: All those films are in slow-motion! You do not float gently away from the plane. You fall like a freakin' rock! I mean fast. Ahem... I digress.

My sister, and her new best friend, position themselves, rock three times, and leap. I hear the scream I've known since she was two for about a millisecond and she is gone. Out of sight! We get into position, then my BFF pulls us back in and announces, "We missed the drop zone, we'll have to go around." I have just spent 1 1/2 hours driving to the desert, 45 minutes of earthbound build up, fifteen minutes of ear popping ascension to walk to the door of my manhood and was told WE HAVE TO GO AROUND AGAIN!

The next three minutes went by very slowly. We again neared the door, I forgot to count to three (sensory overload thingy), and we were out.

It seemed like 30 seconds before I could breathe and I was not prepared for the noise wind rushing by at 125 mph makes. I did maintain consciousness and just about the time I thought I had a handle on falling like a rock the chute went up and the deafening roar changed to silence.

One minute later.... we landed! Manhood intact!

Window to the future....

I have worked for the same employer for nearly 16 years. We started with one little tire & auto service store, seriously wondering how we were going to make the first week's payroll. Today we have two companies, eleven retail stores, and a sizable wholesale division. I have been the General Manager for over seven years. It has been a helluva ride!

I informed the owner of the company of of my diagnosis shortly after entering 2009. We work together everyday and have been a successful team. the problem is.....He is in complete denial.

He asked me recently what medication I was taking. I said, "Nothing now, why?" He said he noticed I was having difficulty when we were having lunch with a couple of vendors. I explained that it is a normal symptom of CBGD and that things will get worse. He thinks I should change doctors.

I am already having difficulties in some job related areas but I have developed coping mechanisms. I'm becoming pretty good at typing left handed and I keep Word open on my desktop to jot down notes that would normally end up on a yellow post-it. During phone calls when someone gives me a quick phone number, I type it into my calculator.

My biggest concern, at the present, is stress induced tremors. When I get into a stressful situation my right leg goes berserk. I've been a public speaker for years and though speaking before big crowds made me nervous, I was an expert at masking it. Now I even feel some tremor just writing this. A nice glass of Australian red wine seems to help, but I do have to drive home from work!

Right after I was diagnosed, I joined a support group on Yahoo that automatically forwards any emails posted to the group. Ninety-five percent of these are posted by caregivers supporting CBGD patients that are in latter stages of the disease. It gives me a window to my future. It is ugly and I often delete the emails without reading them.

The real dilemma is do I live all out now while I can or do I resist the temptation and spend all my resources preparing for the future. Most people have trouble not living in the past.... I have trouble not living in the future!

Well, THAT was depressing! I promise a counterpoint soon.

A few weeks ago I posted a photo taken in my yard in a post about "Gettin' Small" to better appreciate nature at the micro-level. I have a camera that has great macro settings and allows for great detail. I was looking back at those photos and realized I wasn't getting as small as I thought I was.

I missed seeing this guy!Click on image to view larger.

Click here to view perspective.

Creeping Tension....

Blogging comes with a great deal of responsibility. On one hand there is the obligation to write (especially if your blog is called The DAILY something-or-other). On the other hand there is a desire to not post a load of crab just to be posting.

I get explosions of divine inspirations, then by the time I get off the freeway and boot up the laptop, they appear lame in fluorescent light. The whole purpose behind this blog was to leave a breadcrumb trail that I and others could follow should we wish to view the past as I dealt with my illness. I have often departed from that theme but I assure you that my life has not. You might just say the breadcrumbs come from a variety of loaves. Some days sweet bread.....some days sourdough.

Since my diagnosis of CBGD on November 14, 2008, my symptoms have progressively worsened, but not in a dramatic fashion. Most noticeable to me is my walking gait. It is not quite a limp to look at but there is an audible difference in my footfall. My thigh muscles in my right leg are in a constant state of "creeping tension." I must make a conscious effort to tell it to relax. This works for a few seconds then the tension returns. The bright side is I'm getting some exercise even while I type this. The bad news is: I know that if this "creeping tension" follows the expected path I will eventually loose the use of the leg. Right now, I'm thankful for cruise control.

Cozumel in 3 minutes or less....

My first attempt (and maybe my last) at posting a video in my blog. I do have a web cam but they are not very flattering. Just know that in April, 2009, I am still able to do these things.....that is a blessing!

Flying Dreams.....

The night after I returned from my dive trip to Cozumel I had "Flying Dreams."

These are vivid dreams in which I can fly. No arm flapping needed. Just push off and up
I go, slowly as I climb and faster when I swoop toward the earth. The sensation is incredible and the views are more realistic than I can imagine while awake.

Historically I've had these uplifting dreams when I have been at peace with my life. I'm not at a place right now that I could call peaceful, so I believe the dreams were carryovers from my dive trip.

Ninety percent of the diving in Cozumel is "drift diving." Incredibly peaceful and nearly effortless. The boat drops you off at one end of a reef formation. You drop to the bottom, assure that you have good neutral buoyancy, and let the current propel you along the reef. Take a deep breath and you begin to rise, exhale and you sink. Nearly an hour later, after gently sailing above beautiful peaks and valleys containing amazing wildlife, without the sound of a human voice (maybe the voices in your head), you slowly ascend back to the surface and the waiting boat.


An hour of weightlessness with only the sound of breathing in air and exhaling bubbles is as close to flying as I'll ever get......while awake!