Category: fatherhood

We have a match!!

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Time is fleeting and days roll by like road signs on a freeway. Moments consisting of only a glimpse, a stare, are gone as fast as they arrived.

We are counting down days as this weekend rapidly approaches. Tuesday Jacy readmits herself for another round of chemotherapy. 5-7 days hospital bound. So this weekend is all about family. Cody is home and all of the kids have been pestering him, hoping for one on one time with their older brother. To Cody’s credit he has taken the time, spending it carefully with each one of them, letting them do what they want to do and fostering a fun, over the top attitude. We are proud of this boy, he went off to college and came back just a tad bit grown up and is becoming one heck of a man.

Counting and counting, days, hours, minutes and seconds. One more day till chemo, many more days till total sickness, and a few more days until blood transfusions; then just as you start to feel like yourself again, hives! Or headaches, or difficulty breathing, or the inability to stay awake because you need Benadryl for the hives, or blood transfusion or because you just need to sleep.

Once all of these medical cocktail concoctions are hammered out, it is time to throw in a Bone Marrow Transplant. Speaking of a Bone Marrow transplant, we learned on Thursday of this week a match had been located, identified, notified and accepted! Not just any match mind you either, this match was a 10 out of 10!!! Pretty super great news! Some really awesome person took the time to get swabbed and now will inevitably change the course of both their life and my wife’s forever! Thanks to this angel, Jacy now has the best recovery chances yet! In case you were wondering or asking yourself right now; what does ten out of ten really mean? 10/10 is part of HLA matching for a suitable donor and here is everything you need to know about matching and the importance of that donor via my favorite web site: Be The Match!

HLA MATCHING

Human leukocyte antigen (HLA) typing is used to match you with a donor for your bone marrow or cord blood transplant. This is not the same as ABO blood typing. HLA is a protein – or marker – found on most cells in your body. Your immune system uses HLA markers to know which cells belong in your body and which do not.

Be The Match Registry® is a listing of potential donors and cord blood units and their HLA types. The best transplant outcome happens when a patient’s HLA and the donor’s HLA closely match.

HLA matching basics

Half of your HLA markers are inherited from your mother and half from your father. Each brother and sister has a 25%, or 1 in 4, chance of matching you, if you have the same mother and father. It is highly unlikely that other family members will match you. Under very rare circumstances, family members other than siblings may be tested.

About 70%, or 7 out of 10, patients who need a transplant do not have a suitable donor in their family. If you do not have a donor in your family, your transplant team may look for an unrelated donor or cord blood unit for you on Be The Match Registry. When a search is done on the Be The Match Registry, it includes a search of more than 22.5 million potential adult donors and more than 601,000 cord blood units on lists from around the world.

Role of HLA matching

HLA matching is important because a close HLA match:

  • Increases the likelihood of a successful transplant.
  • Improves engraftment—when the donated cells start to grow and make new blood cells in you.
  • Reduces the risk of complications after transplant, especially graft-versus-host disease (GVHD). GVHD is a potentially serious complication. GVHD occurs when the immune cells, which are part of the donated marrow or cord blood, attack your body.

HLA matching requirements

There are many HLA markers. Each HLA marker has a name. The names are letters or combinations of letters and numbers. Doctors review at least 8 HLA markers for these minimum requirements: two A markers, two B markers, two C markers, and two DRB1 markers. Some doctors look for an additional marker, called DQ, to match.

An adult donor must match at least 6 of these 8 HLA markers. Many transplant centers require at least a 7 of 8 match. Because cord blood cells are less mature than adult donor cells they have less strict matching criteria. A cord blood unit must match at least 4 of 6 markers at HLA-A, -B, and -DRB1. These guidelines are based on scientific studies of transplant results.

Example A shows that the patient’s markers match the donor’s. When HLA markers A, B, C, and DRB1 from the patient and the donor match, it is called an 8 of 8 match. When A, B, C, DRB1, and DQ markers all match, it’s called a 10 of 10 match.

Example B shows that one of the patient’s A markers does not match one of the donor’s A markers. Therefore, this is a 7 of 8 match or, if the DQ marker matches, a 9 of 10 match.

Confirmatory HLA Typing

HLA typing is a complex process that can be done at different levels of detail. Patients always have HLA typing done at a high level of detail. Blood is tested using laboratory methods that check the exact HLA markers.

Every potential donor has a special type of detailed HLA typing (also called confirmatory typing) done before being chosen as the best match for a patient. Confirmatory typing is done to make sure the patient and potential donor match at a detailed level.

 

 

Other factors for a successful transplant

HLA matching is the most important factor but not the only factor that can affect your chances of having a successful transplant.

  • The number of blood-forming cells needs to be suitable for the size of the patient. Larger patients need more blood-forming cells. Cord blood units have fewer cells than adult donors. Sometimes, more than one cord blood unit is needed for a patient.
  • Different donor characteristics have an impact on a transplant’s success. These include the donor’s:
    • Age
    • Gender
    • Blood type
    • Body size
    • The number of times a female donor has been pregnant

If more than one well-matched adult donor is found for you, your doctor will look at these factors.

  • Infection history can also affect transplant outcomes and choice of a donor. Before transplant, doctors test patients and donors for a common virus called cytomegalovirus (CMV).

Finding donors for patients with less common HLA types

Transplant centers may face a greater challenge finding a match for some patients because some HLA types are less common. HLA types are inherited, so the best chance of finding a suitable donor may be with someone of a similar racial or ethnic background. Some people have very diverse tissue types that reduce the chances of finding suitably matching donors.

You can see how a “10 out of 10” match is pretty darn great!!! We also learned the tentative date for her transplant is scheduled for the 22nd of June. Then things get turned a little further upside down here on the ranch. We as a family had a long talk about everyone’s responsibilities while mom was away this summer. Three months is an eternity in a child’s mind and that time frame really hit Parker hard. Through a few tears and a lot of hugs he came to realize the importance of mom’s latest adventure, and even though he didn’t like the idea, he agreed to be the best strongest little dude he could be. I cannot imagine being a young guy trying to process all this information in conjunction with your mom declaring she will be absent for the entire summer.

Other than one small emotional blip, everything else seems to be coming together just fine. We all know our roles, and Jacy know hers is to do nothing more than heal, get better and come home to her family.

Only time will tell what our summer brings..

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A Mystery is afoot!

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Two days ago while speed shopping through our local grocery store, my eyes cruised the ever dreaded ice cream isle. Now being one that doesn’t particularly follow any diet fad, weight loss program or calorie counting insanity. It has come to my attention that this particular body no longer holds that stealthy shape once honed through hard work and persistence previously acquired prior to Leukemia invading our household.  Although my weight does fluctuate pre and post beer consumption the true curse ensnaring my ever rising muffin top is ice cream! MMMMMMMM Ice cream! That frozen tasty, melty goodness oozing with everything from strawberries (a fools trick towards health) to salt, caramel and chocolate! If it wasnt a frozen item I would believe the devil conjured its ingredient infusion himself.

Staring at a thousand or so manufactures of ice cream, much like micro brews these days it seems everyone is an ice cream perfectionist and or connoisseur. This steely glare caught a reflection of something different, something attractive and suave. Its packaging reeking of taste and elegance. Gelato!

Oh yes, I have heard of you gelato! Many a times while strolling some special event or walking through the inner workings of our local college town this confectionary dream buzzword arises! Gelato! Have you had some? Oh my goodness I just paid $5.50 for a teaspoon sized scoop but it is soooo worth it!!! Gelato; Its Italian obviously, so therefore anything Italian must be good right? No wait, anything Italian must be GREAT! Italians are the true inventors of exceptional culinary delights much to the chagrin of all Frenchman everywhere! Of course being an Italian creation, backed by the mass consumption of anyone either in college or living superbly, comfortably inside a tax bracket that none of us will ever see, well then Gelato must be that river of gold we should all heartily dip our cups into while the dippin’s good!

Oh by the way before I go any further, Gelato is just Italian for Ice cream, so drop all the pretentiousness while eating it in front of your friends. It was and is pure marketing genious but from an Italians standpoint (uh me) it just makes you look really dumb. Although amusing, dumb none the less..

Gelato it is; my wife is craving some ice-cold sweet goodness for her throat which remains sore from having a breathing tube inserted during her operation. It is also just the excuse I need to purchase me some fat building frozen calories! Hey its bulking season and that waistline isn’t going to grow itself!!

Two tubs purchased, one for me and one for her. Both lovingly cradled and carefully placed inside our freezer on the top shelf for all to see. That is right little Timmy we dont have ice cream here at our house we have Gelato!!! Hee hee..

A few days go by, my wifes tub of caramel and sea salt goes unmolested. Placed neatly below her popsicles it is very clear this tub belongs to her and no one else. On the other hand my tub of strawberry (yes I fell for the health trick thing) chocolate truffle is decimated. Empty container lying in the trash, there is no hiding the fact you can probably hear my fat cells expanding, bursting as I walk through the kitchen.

Then comes yesterday. A text, just like the thousands of texts I receive on a weekly basis pops onto my phone. Casually glancing my phones direction, its (the texts) words confuse me, as though I am four years old trying to learn the alphabet my eyes blink rapidly working overtime at shape recognition!

Jacy: Did both ice creams get eaten?? I’m craving some and its gone??

Ok no time to panic, you got this, a simple answer, I mean it was there last night right? RIGHT? Oh yes I remember, My middle son grabbed it and asked for some, seeing it was unopened he was asked to put it back and remember that particular bucket of Gelato (said with a snobby undertone) was for mom!

Betty: No the other one was there last night unopened.

Phew, maybe she just didn’t see it.

Jacy: Its gone!!! I can’t find it!!

There is no way its gone! What the hell is she talking about!! Maybe Leukemia or Benadryl has her seeing things, maybe the freezer has become like the Mojave desert and she is only seeing a frozen mirage!! It was there, unopened, sealed tighter than fort Knox, at eleven o’clock last night!!!! Crap what do I say?

Betty: Ah second shelf? It was under the popsicle??? (Three ??? means sheepishly asking)

Jacy: GONE!

And so the mystery began! First order of business was find where the ice cream went or at least where the remnants (the body if you will) of the ice cream was disposed of. The body was found sometime later in the downstairs freezer, the top portion of Gelato mercilessly scraped away leaving nothing but the soft underbelly exposed for consumption. I now had something to go on.

After throughly questioning myself without a lawyer present because I hold no guilt and really I am not much of an interrogator anyways, it became clear we had two main suspects.

Middle son and youngest son.

Now the daughter was off at science camp but I was fairly certain somehow her name would arise as a suspect regardless. Both boys when questioned held to their stories.

Youngest son: uh, I was asleep? Plus I am scared of the dark so there is no way I am going downstairs into the dark kitchen to eat ice cream. No way!!

Middle son: why would I steal it? I would just tell you I ate it and take my consequences!

Both held compelling arguments.

The youngest had opportunity but no real motive as fear restricted his very movement. The middle child had motive and opportunity yet the whole owning up to it portion threw us for a loop! Could it be a ploy? A distraction keeping us from the truth?

We threw every tactic we knew the middle boys direction; from good parent bad parent, mom sweet and innocent; you wont get in trouble honey, honest, just tell mommy the truth, with me scowling in the background, arms crossed ready to slam my fist on the table at any moment! (I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!!!) To confused Jimmy Stewart parents; Well, well gosh little buddy none of this is making sense; shucks you got us in a real pickle here; maybe, just maybe you could help a feller out with a decent explanation? We even resorted to consequence parents; Just tell us you took the ice cream, oops I am sorry, the Gelato and we will just chalk it up to poor judgement on your part. If you dont tell us you took it, you can’t go to State for rodeo. NOTHING!!!!!

None of it worked! Nothing worked on either of them!!! Holy crap, either we live in a house with the very best liars in the world (seriously we couldn’t get a read on either one) Or a ghost ate it, then levitated the Gelato to the freezer downstairs where it was carefully placed to look like it had been there nestled amongst the Ego’s all along! These boys should work for the CIA!!!

Of course the best explanation offered came from the youngest. Maybe just maybe the middle child was sleep walking, (yes he does sleep walk to the amusement of the youngest and myself) his sleep walking self finally figured out how to get downstairs where he opened the freezer door, took out the ice cream (we are calling it what it is now) opened it, found a spoon, then took it downstairs to eat it amongst the laundry in the basement where no on would find him sleeping and eating. When he was finished he placed it back into the freezer so he could sleep walk to it later? Yep that sounds plausible. All I could picture was the sleep walking scene from Stepbrothers and sorrow for the future wife of said middle child. images-5

In the end the investigation hit a dead-end.  We determined someone ate it, someone moved it, someone tried to hide it, and Gelato is really just dumb old ice cream.

Rubbing my head the case is placed into the unsolved files.

Maybe somehow my daughter teleported her ice cream eating skills from 200 miles away really did do it!!! Stranger things have happened right?

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Another crazy week

theycallmebetty1 Comment

A week gone bye.

What’s in a week? 7 days, Mon-Sun, 5 days dedicated to the working machine, school, children, and so on. This last week has been one hell of a ride let me tell you! Starting the Friday before last Jake and I packed the rig with gear and horses; pointed east we headed off for the last CHSRA D-3 rodeo of the year! Jake was looking to score at steer wrestling and maintain a second place standing in cutting. His team roping partner Breanne and he were hoping to finish the year without another goofy mishap!

Saturday and Sunday went by in the blink of an eye. When it was over, no steers hit the ground, Jake slipped from second to fourth in cutting and he and his team roping partner finished the year the way they started, laughing at each other’s crazy luck. Now it seems as though the weekend could be interpreted as a bummer, but nothing could be further from the truth! All the kids had a great time, points were tallied and when the dust settled Jake made state finals in Steer Wrestling, Cutting and earned the Rookie of the year All Around Cowboy award! To say he was excited would be an understatement! He put on a tough face, but smiled his boyish smile all the way home.

Speaking of home, the wife had enough strength to take our daughter to her softball game on Saturday. This of course left her drained on Sunday, but it was a great outing as she finally was able to see and converse with people wondering about her condition and how she was doing overall.

Monday arrived leaving us scrambling once again as fair time was upon us. Being a ranch family all three kids had entries in the fair. Jake-a lamb, and a welding project, Jessica-a pig, Parker-two pairs of meat chickens! Washing, trimming, cleaning tack, moving equipment and working horses were all part of a very long or short depending on how you perceived it, day.

Tuesday, we moved all the animals onto the fairgrounds an so began a long week of 6am to 8pm days. Feeding, fitting, showing, and generally watching our children have the time of their lives! Nothing beats fair time when you are a child. I remember quite well how I looked forward to fair week, showing my lambs and hanging with all my friends from around the county. It’s a time of freedom, competition, hard work and all the corn dogs you can shove into your gullet! If you are lucky at the end of the week your animal sells at auction, leaving you with a budget for next year’s project.

Jacy couldn’t attend the fair as our fear of contamination from an unknown source lingered like a dark cloud. It was hard for her to stay home, not able to participate in her children’s adventures during the week. I tried my best to send her pictures and keep her updated, as did every other person with a camera from our loving little town. She had planned on attending show day with a HEPA mask, but other people from medical places had different plans for my wife unbeknownst to her. So pictures continued arriving via text from many of the moms wanting to ensure house ridden Jacy wasn’t missing a moment with her children. Small towns are a blessing.

Now if being stuck at home for this week wasn’t enough; Jacy’s doctor called to say her results from the last marrow draw we good. Residual Leukemia remained in small numbers so the best course of action was to move up the hysterectomy by a week!! Wait? A week? Yep you guessed it? That placed the surgery day smack dab on top of show day at the fair! The “other people” had spoken! Dream killers! So with a phone call, Jacy’s mom took the day off work, dropping everything to ensure her daughter was taken care of and her grandchildren had their father by their side on show day! I love my mother in law. Not many guys can say that I think. But I do. I think she is a pretty cool, whacky, funny lady who would do anything for her children.

So that brings me to the real gist of my reflection. The hysterectomy.

Hysterectomy is the surgical removal of the uterus. It may also involve removal of the cervix, ovaries, fallopian tubes and other surrounding structures.

Usually performed by a gynecologist, hysterectomy may be total (removing the body, fundus, and cervix of the uterus; often called “complete”) or partial (removal of the uterine body while leaving the cervix intact; also called “supracervical”). It is the most commonly performed gynecological surgical procedure. In 2003, over 600,000 hysterectomies were performed in the United States alone, of which over 90% were performed for benign conditions.[1] Such rates being highest in the industrialized world has led to the major controversy that hysterectomies are being largely performed for unwarranted and unnecessary reasons.[2]

Removal of the uterus renders the patient unable to bear children (as does removal of ovaries and fallopian tubes) and has surgical risks as well as long-term effects, so the surgery is normally recommended when other treatment options are not available or have failed. It is expected that the frequency of hysterectomies for non-malignant indications will fall as there are good alternatives in many cases.[3]

Oophorectomy (removal of ovaries) is frequently done together with hysterectomy to decrease the risk of ovarian cancer. However, recent studies have shown that prophylactic oophorectomy without an urgent medical indication decreases a woman’s long-term survival rates substantially and has other serious adverse effects.[4] This effect is not limited to pre-menopausal women; even women who have already entered menopause were shown to have experienced a decrease in long-term survivability post-oophorectomy ~ Wikipedia

That’s right, in the middle of all we as a family had going on this particular week, combined with the fact my wife was just starting to feel better, a hyterectomy was thrown into the mix! Why? Because she cannot have the Bone Marrow Transplant without it! Why? Because she has Polycystic Ovary Syndrome!

I know right? So what is Polycystic Overian Sysndrome?

Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), also called hyperandrogenic anovulation (HA),[1] or Stein–Leventhal syndrome,[2] is a set of symptoms due to a hormone imbalance in women.[3] Symptoms include: irregular or no menstrual periods, heavy periods, excess body and facial hair, acne, pelvic pain, trouble getting pregnant, and patches of thick, darker, velvety skin.[4] Associated conditions include: type 2 diabetes, obesity, obstructive sleep apnea, heart disease, mood disorders, and endometrial cancer.[3]

PCOS is due to a combination of genetic and environmental factors.[5] Risk factors include obesity, not enough physical exercise, and a family history of someone with the condition.[6] Diagnosis is based on two of the following three findings: no ovulation, high androgen levels, and ovarian cysts.[3] Cysts may be detectable by ultrasound. Other conditions that produce similar symptoms include adrenal hyperplasia, hypothyroidism, and hyperprolactinemia.[7]

PCOS has no cure.[8] Treatment may involve lifestyle changes such as weight loss and exercise. Birth control pills may help with improving the regularity of periods, excess hair, and acne. Metformin and anti-androgens may also help. Other typical acne treatments and hair removal techniques may be used.[9] Efforts to improve fertility include weight loss, clomiphene, or metformin. In vitro fertilization is used by some in whom other measures are not effective.[10]

PCOS is the most common endocrine disorder among women between the ages of 18 and 44.[11] It affects approximately 5% to 10% of this age group.[6] It is one of the leading causes of poor fertility.[3] The earliest known description of what is now recognized as PCOS date from 1721 in Italy.[12]

When you have a bone marrow transplant in conjunction with heavy doses of chemotherapy the whole “heavy nonstop menstrual cycle” has life threatening consequences. So no argument to be had, out with that Uterus! Buh bye!

Now this particular operation seems simple enough, it is an outpatient procedure after all. Go in at 2pm be out and home by 8! Whoo hoo, like going out for dinner, only there is no food, no wine, no husband and only 6-8 of your not so closest friends turning your guts into a Jacy frappe!

8 pm became 2am when she arrived home it was obvious she was dealing with incredible pain. After helping her upstairs, getting her settled into bed, I knew it was going to be a rough night for us both. She slept most of the next day as the children and I ran back and forth from the fairgrounds. But with her mom at her side she was well cared for. Day two led to a Pit Viper like attitude due to swelling, pain and a resurgence of hives covering her body or more specifically the incision sight. Day three brought a few smiles and a lighter attitude. Today the swelling remains, her body aches and the hives just refuse to subside.

So we continue to take each moment one day at a time. It sounds as though once healed up from this latest procedure she will head back to the hospital for five more days of chemotherapy in preparation for the bone marrow transplant which should take place sometime in June.

That was our week, glad I could bring everyone up to speed. Just another notch on the old day to day, week to week, month to month belt. Our spirits are still high as we march forward towards complete remission.

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A trip to Stanfords Cancer Institute

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Sitting in traffic wondering how anybody could possibly live in the Bay Area without owning an urban assault vehicle reminiscent of something from Mad Maxx for redemption cast upon rude idiotic drivers I will never know! While commuters are frustratingly obnoxious my focus channels instead towards taking that initial step into Stanford’s Cancer institute.

It will be emotional for sure, Jacy is nervously anticipating our meeting with the Bone marrow Transplant team. There are so many unknowns in regards to facilities, rooms, and living arrangements for both pre and post-transplant. What will her doctor be like? How many people will be involved in this process? Has anyone determined if her brother is a match? If he is not, what is the prognosis for a match and how long until we know? What is or is not covered under our insurance since we are leaving the Kaiser system? What is the real number in terms of time away from work?

I am nervous too. It has been a very long time since I set foot in this place, I hoped to never come back here again so I am praying for the best. Will I be strong enough to keep her spirits up if we hear things we don’t like? Do I have the ability to keep quiet and listen, truly listen to all the information while reading my wife’s responses and emotions ensuring she gets the most out of this meeting while feeling my support?

Once on campus it’s clear this will be no easy arrival, there are multiple construction projects in various stages of completion. No parking what so ever, and traffic complete with traffic monitors moving us slowly from one place to another. Finally after being directed from one street to the next we come upon the front of the Cancer Institute. Carefully pulling up I let Jacy get out to check in since we are border line late thanks to 35 minutes at the Bay bridge toll plaza. As I circle around I find the front entrance is for valet parking. Yep that’s right valet parking! This place looks more like an entrance to a 5 star hotel complete with black jacket, bow tie wearing servants. Turning the car over and receiving my return ticket, in my best dry humor tone I let the valet know to take it easy in the corners, not many can handle a car like ours and temptation is great! He nods, smiles, says thank you and slowly pulls away in our Honda Odyssey. Pretty sure he had no idea what I was talking about or mumbled asshole as he drove away. Either way good show old boy, for keeping that beaming professional appearance.

Walking inside the Cancer Institute my impression has not changed. Glass, marble, wood, brass, and staff members dressed professionally. It is a sight to behold. Making my way down to our appointment area I also can’t help but notice how busy it is! This place is vibrating with expectations, anticipation, and exasperation; seriously this place is buzzing with intensity! Cancer has become a business for sure, and business is booming! Meeting up with my wife, we are called into an exam room where we are introduced to one of Stanford’s social workers. She is a doll, who asks us questions covering our lives at home, where we live, how we live, how many children we have, is there a solid support system in place, do we have any animals, what kind of animals, what do we know about transplants? Jacy and I have both done our best to be informed on all aspects of Leukemia and it showed during our interview.

Dr. Muffly walked in and introduced herself. We both liked her immediately! She is very kind, warm and friendly. To be honest, not what I expected, I don’t know why, there is no real reason why and even as I am typing this it bothers me that my predisposed expectation was somewhat skewed. Needless to say we had a wonderful meeting. When we asked about jacys brother being a match, she picked up the phone without hesitation and called her assistant who after a few seconds of looking through data informed us he was not. My heart sank a bit, but Dr. Muffly insured us it was going to fine. Only 25% of full siblings are an actual match anyways, so the odds were already against us.

We talked about Jacy’s form of Leukemia, what it meant for the short and long term. We discussed the process, where I also learned that actual bone marrow is only used in specific cases. The latest advancements are centered on Stem-Cells through an Allogenic Transplantation.

“In an Allogenic Transplantation, a person’s stem cells are replaced with new, healthy stem cells obtained from a donor or from donated umbilical cord blood. Chemotherapy or a combination of chemotherapy and radiation therapy is first given to eradicate cancer cells, to suppress the patient’s immune system, or both. The new stem cells are then infused into the patient’s bloodstream through an intravenous catheter, in a procedure that is similar to a blood transfusion.”

Very, very cool stuff! The donor is given a shot to hyper activate their system, creating active stem cells released from the donors marrow. After a week to ten days that blood is collected from the donor and shipped straight to its recipient. No more pain or discomfort from the actual bone marrow procedure. Once the infusion is complete the patient is kept for another five days in the hospital then seen on an outpatient status. Here is the caveat. Once in outpatient status the patient cannot live more than an hour away. We live two hours away so home is a no go. The hospital provides housing both near its campus and in San Jose. Jacy needs to be close for monitoring. A fever, severe nausea, or what they refer too as graft vs host disease are all issues to be diligent through observation.

“Graft versus host disease (GVHD) is a common complication following an allogenic tissue transplant. It is commonly associated with stem cell or bone marrow transplants but the term also applies to other forms of tissue graft. Immune cells (white blood cells) in the tissue (the graft) recognize the recipient (the host) as “foreign”. The transplanted immune cells then attack the host’s body cells. GVHD can also occur after a blood transfusion if the blood products have not been irradiated or treated with an approved pathogen reduction system.”

Any signs of these and she needs to come right in, day or night. The total time frame for being away from home is 3 months.

Let that sink in for a moment. Your whole world is feeling out of control, statistics flying left and right, in the hospital then out of the hospital in combination with a gigantic fear all will fail leaving you to die. You are told you cannot be home with your children, family, for three months. It is easy to be reassuring, it is easy to scoff and ramble off witty lines like: it’s only a blip in time, you will get through this, be back home and never look back! But when it is you, trying to wrap your mind around missing more of your children’s activities, seeing and interacting with our farm and everything you know. It is a tough to understand, which leads to the invariable; why me?

When she comes home, she now knows, she will not be able to work for a year and even though she is home, no animals (dogs exempt) for up to six months. During this time (from graft to home) she will wear what appears as Darth Vaders entry level mask. This HEPA or High Efficiency Particulate Respirator should keep all viruses and organisms from entering her body. She must also have nothing but fresh food prepared by her caretaker for every meal to ensure no contamination. Wait! I said caretaker! That’s right! She will need a 24 hour a day caretaker, someone preferably a family member to monitor her, feed her, and drive her (yep banned from driving for 4 months) to all her appointments.

This was quite a bit of information and even though we knew most of this from doing our homework, it was more than we were really prepared to acknowledge.

The kicker through it all? The one thing that stuck with me? Was those damn statistics again! I have always said; Statistics are to a mathematician what a lamppost is to a drunk. Just something to lean on. But for some reason hearing straight from the doctor’s mouth, it is a 50/50 chance for recovery. Hit me really hard. I never let it show, but like a sock in the gut is just kind of took away my air and left me sitting there for a moment. I know there are millions of factors, (read my last blog) I know my wife is a fighter, I know all the positives one can spew, but until you have sat there, focused on the words coming from your doctors mouth it just isn’t the same.

It was a long painful car ride home. She cried, we held hands, I did my very best to comfort this woman I love. The prognosis still remains great! But nothing hurts more than hearing your wife tell you she feels as though she has been handed a death sentence. She has a right to feel that way, she has a right to be sad, and she has a right to be angry at everything. This is something I cannot fix, this is something we need to have faith over. This is something that will strengthen our marriage even more. She will come away from this in remission. I just know it.

This morning we received some great news! There are four donors that are a match! All four have been contacted for further blood work! Our first step to winning this battle, the hardest step that so many never get to take! We have a match! I urge you, any of you to please register with Be the Match! You may have the honor of saving a life. In this case someone did, and it will save my wife’s life!

She also called me this morning to tell me she is back in the zone! All positive thoughts from here forward! A little time in church did a woman of faith wonders!

God Bless everyone for the continued support.

keep calm

Pythagorean Theorem=Boobs????

theycallmebetty4 Comments

Over the years my wife and I have spent countless hours helping our children to succeed through both word and deed.

It takes no shortage of creativity, knowledge, a sense of humor and occasionally some good old-fashioned ass kicking to solidly seat things into our children’s thick know it all skulls.

A week ago a new low had been reached in our household, the bottom if you will. All was going reasonably well, homework becoming finalized before an upcoming work week, and yes I can hear a collaborative parental moan now: why wasn’t the homework done Friday night? No excuses, no answer other than it is just the way we roll here at the BCR (Black Cloud Ranch) if it isn’t last minute well then it wasn’t worth doing!

One of our boys, oh hell why beat around the bush; it was the fourteen year old! Anyways he just doesn’t seem to grasp the importance of Algebra! Seriously Algebra! Algebra is the very basis for all math we will NEVER EVER USE AGAIN IN OUR ENTIRE LIVES!!! It might as well be stinking cursive! Who the bloody hell uses cursive or ever thought cursive was so freaking imperative? Isn’t Cursive like the Beta video of language expression? Oh sure I have seen many hybrid versions, you know a mix of block lettering, plain print and cursive. But really in the end it is as useful as a chocolate tea-pot!

Algebra was the very bane of my existence as a freshman in high school, and it appears to be a genetic learning disorder! Yet Jake has one glaring ace in his pocket for which he refuses to take advantage that I never had at my disposal! His mother teaches math! I know right? Mom teaches math! HELLLLOOOOOOO????? You say you don’t understand math, ask your mother politely for assistance and well, 1+1=uh an easy freaking A! But no, Jake stands before his mother, arms crossed as though he was in the center of a Law and Order episode awaiting his lawyer! This boy, this hard-headed, rodeo driven boy, has been given a free ride for way too long based upon his dimples and charm, yet at home his mother and I see the poop thrower from three years of age. His dimples purchase no currency at the parental store of effort and trust. Mom continues teaching, Jake continues fighting the process. My teeth are grinding and my inner voice hears our beloved dentist God Bless her soul telling me to let it go before irreparable damage is done!

Finally after many witty and not so witty exchanges take place mom has hit the wall, this lad has more excuses for why he cannot learn the Pythagorean Theorem than a desert has sand! Who doesn’t understand the relation of lengths in three sides of any right triangle! Right? RIGHT! Ah Duh!!!! (Ok truth be told I didn’t know what it was either until this fight, but hey enough about my adult ignorance!) Yet a no learning wall is up, affixed, complete with eye rolls, heavy sighs, and the occasional slack-jawed look of stupidity.

This entire process of enlightenment and denial was finally broken when my wife, teacher of equations and mentor with wit, creator of interesting theory and conclusions nonchalantly threw out a reference as to the design of her latest mathematical problem looking a tad bit like boobs! Yes you heard me right BOOBS! Brought forward in that casual oh look what I accidentally drew they resemble BOOBS, kinda way! Every teen boys dream! Men and women alike can agree that BOOBS are pretty freaking cool! Right? Hey I won’t lie, I looked! She said BOOBS for Christ’s sake!!! But instead of a chuckle, juvenile laugh or smirk our sense of humors, no matter how imperfect for the moment (seemingly appropriate I might add) were greeted with teenage loaded snide sarcasm and cynicism!

NICE! Now I am not referencing “NICE” in relation too, eyebrows wiggling, crooked grin, hey there look at that or creepy stalker nice; oh nooooo. This was a thoroughly disgusted, grossed out, want to vomit because my mom referenced a girls private parts “nice”.

What the hell! Its boob’s son, no matter how big or small all girls have them! Even some men! How in the hell can you treat it as though it is a dirty word? BOOOOOOOBBBBBSSSSSSS! See rolls off the tongue! Remember when we had the sex education talk and we made you say PENIS, PENIS, PENIS- VAGINA, VAGINA, VAGINA? You thought that was a freaking riot! Red cheeks and all! So what gives? Wait is this because you think we are automatically referring to you moms boobs? Well heaven forbid your mom, a WOMAN has boobs! Or is it because you cannot stand looking at boobs in front of your mom? Well then we have done something wrong if you are ashamed of the female body and all its glorious shapes, curves and dimensions in front of another woman! What is it? No son of mine is going to ramble on with some form of weird embarrassment over a hand drawn set of circles that look conspicuously enough like a set of boobs! (+)(+)

Then it dawned on us, he saw two circles, we saw two circles, he still remained steadfast in his attempt to thwart any assistance given by his mother, his mother remained steadfast in breaking down that wall. Hence forth two circles that once were nothing more than an equal equation in a math problem became the nucleus for an excuse. By acting as though we had stained his little eyes, burned an unwanted image into his brain, leaving him to die upon the sword of our humor amidst an assumed embarrassment. He believed homework time would be over, a byproduct of our apologies for such inappropriate behavior on our parts. Crying at the table, head in our hands, relished to failure as parents for our poor lack of judgment, he could leave the table thusly going about his evening bypassing another painful night of math while feeling as though he finally got the upper hand!

Hmmmm in retrospect, quick thinking young grasshopper! I am impressed at how fast you grabbed ahold of an opportunity to exploit a situation hoping for instant benefit and gratification… In many instances this quick thinking may have brought forward a prosperous outcome. This would not be one of them!

BOOBS, BOOBS, BOOBS (+)(+) Do you see them???? BOOBS, BOOBS, BOOBS!!!!!

Now do your damn homework!

 

 

So you want to become a dad?

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This holiday season our family has been surrounded by our dearest family and friends. During this festive spectacular there has been ample time for Betty to ponder the meaning of or too my life.  Now we all know there are many theories in regards to the meaning of life, and each one of us has a different feeling about how life relates to us as individuals. One such couple who I care about immensely has left me befuddled, challenged, and as though there is a damned up reservoir of advice for which I should be sharing. But also with the knowledge opening these flood gates to soon would unnecessarily drown them both.

These two love birds are about to jump off the relationship cliff by getting married. Hurray! We are seriously so happy for them both!!!!

But a topic continually arises in regards to the more domestic side of two lovers joined at the hip. CHILDREN! Should they procreate? Shouldn’t they? How many little genetic markers should they raise? Can they handle the unpredictable, emotional strains friends say children may bring to their lives? Would they even make good parents?

Then the question that always precedes the sigh of frustration; If you were to do it all over again would you still have had children?

First and foremost because they are worried about a future with children shows they care and is definitely a GREAT sign! So many children are brought into this world with no plan, no understanding of the responsibility, and no real physical or emotional commitment.  Many times children are born with the best of intentions, until one or both parents hits their first giant wall of emotion without the ability to seek out help or ask for assistance. Then everyone in the family suffers.

This future husband is a caring kind-hearted man with a spectacular sense of humor who values family. He is so worried about this one aspect (children) of the upcoming relationship solidification, and I personally find it to be sweet.

It dawned on me that no man should have to have to worry this much! No one explained parenthood to me other than to say it will happen if I didn’t provide protection! I was only given the generic description of events to come, as in late nights, no sleep, no friends, poopy diapers etc! After our nuptials were completed grief from every family member we ever encountered in regards to when we were going to have our own little clones was all we received! Not one conversation started with general pleasantries or curiosity into how marriage may or may not have changed our lives, oh no! Every talking point was always the repeated squealing of a broken record; when ya gonna have kids (skip) when ya gonna have kids? (skip) when ya gonna have kids? (skip)

Sad….

So after 3 years of writing this little blog, trying my hardest to share a Fathers side of marriage and raising children, it is time to help a fellow brother out! Give him some cred and lift him up! Let him know it is ok to wonder, it is ok to be scared, and I am here for him when ever he needs me. How am I going to help this man you ask? Well how nice of you to ask! By explaining what being a parent IS and what it IS NOT! Of course this is purely from this fathers perspective. (there might be a few marriage tie inns as well)

WHAT BEING A FATHER IS NOT

Glamorous; No matter how anyone tries to sell parenthood there is nothing glamorous about being a dad.  There are no Ward Cleaver moments, Eight really is enough, The Brady Bunched things up for you and its open season on Partridges! Things are quite simply never tied up in a neat little bow in under 20 minutes and 9 times out 10 you can’t fix everything with a hug. You will never be able too juggle your job, after school activities, dirty diapers, runny noses, and the occasional vomit then expect to come home slide ever so carelessly into a $5000.00 dollar tuxedo, expect the misses to look like a Bond girl ready for the taking while you fire up the Aston Martin for a night at the Casino. Martini’s shaken, not stirred!

Easy: Don’t ever believe for one moment you have it all figured out, because if you do, it hurts twice as hard once you realize you don’t! Parenting is hard work, every single second of it is hard! Rewarding, but hard! You can’t just turn parenting off, set it down and go shoot hoops with the guys down the street! Throwing your child in a locked room while you watch Monday night football with the boys down at Hooters is also out of the question! Just because you taped a daycare placard upon the closet door doesn’t make it so!  I know you think the kid will be fine, rooms dark, he should sleep and wont even know you are gone right? NO! BAD, BAD, BAD! It’s not even an option moron! From late nights rocking junior to sleep,(that’s right buddy its your job as well as the wife’s) to cleaning everything, fixing scraped knees, doing homework, forcing yourself to actually become smarter than a fifth grader (yeah you will quickly learn your degree don’t mean shit). Parent teacher conferences, rashes, sickness, crazy questions, arguments, sleepless nights, bratty friends, good friends, snobby parents, caring parents, children’s sports, children’s obnoxious sport parents and so on, and so on, and so on… There will be days you will feel so numb from exhaustion you may find yourself at the park napping on a concrete bench only to be mistaken for a homeless man.

Scheduled: If you are a person who lives and dies by your calendar you are doomed my friend! Who needs everything to fit in a nice neat little box of time or emotion anyways right? You will fail and its ok! Toddlers don’t run on a clock trust me! You can have nap time at the same time everyday, but it doesn’t mean you will get that entire block to yourself! And it only gets worse as they get older! Between school and sports you will re-learn the importance of HAVING a calendar while ignoring the time boundaries for which that very same calendars foundation is formed! Layman’s terms? -LEARN TO GO WITH THE FLOW MAN!

Sanitary: In the early days you will clean more strange, smelly substances than an Emergency room orderly! Heck some days you may even have a touch of something spewed, sneezed or wiped, stuck directly to your clothes! (Hopefully your James Bond Tux has a great dry cleaner)There will even be a time when you notice people have begun standing a bit away from you during conversation. Now while you are understandably perplexed by this newly found distance, wondering if it’s a coincidence or not, trust me when I say it is you!

Don’t worry about those people anymore,anyways, because after a while you will stop caring! Also you will quit looking over your shoulders, sleeves or sniffing your clothes for baby remnants! It just wont matter! Around the three to six month phase you will stop caring about the fact you are wearing the same clothes day after day, and the smell of every possible baby stench in the world will no longer resonates within your sniffer! Nope you are now a true entrenched father! 5 O’clock shadow, JC Penny sweats, disheveled hair and all. It is a disgusting badge of honor, it is the first step to never having a real wardrobe again and it will in the end bring a certain peace to your egotastic vanity; so wear it proudly.

Without conflict: You and your spouse will fight over the stupidest things! I know she folds the towels all wrong and refuses to turn off the bathroom light! But believe me the fights will reach a new level of stupidity! Rivaling a group of ten-year old boys engaging in verbal judo on the ball field! Yes you two are best friends, the two amigos, this is your best bud, your party girl, the woman who drinks beer one night like the boys then classes it up in a knock out dress while caressing a glass of wine the next!  But put a bun in that oven and all bets are off! Her body morphs faster than a Decepticon, her opinions change by the minute, her maternal instincts take over, the baby begins sucking the life out of her and blam! Your ship of freedom has sailed! You being the stubborn man you are continue searching for your lost buddy with boobs, your amigo, your sex with my best friend high-five afterwards partner in crime! But guess what pally? That ship has sailed! Blame it on exhaustion, brooding, misunderstandings, low blood sugar, what ever! Having a child will test the very meddle that is your relationship!She is still there, trust me, and you will find a whole new beauty to the woman you love, but get ready to shed your former life. I know it sounds bad right now, but it is so worth it in the end.

There will also be times where your parenting is nowhere near on the same page, when the two of you will become ships in the night, passing casually from time to time with nothing more than a horn for bellowing at each other. You will feel at times disconnected from one another. It sucks! It really sucks but it is the way it is! You can put each other first, put the children first, do what ever it takes or do nothing at all, but you will need to figure out how to raise this child together and you will need to work on your relationship all the time! If you don’t, you will suffer and so will your children. There will also be conflict as your children become teenagers. It’s what I call “poking the bear”and you better be ready! Oh they start poking the bear early on, challenging your parental authority, your patience, your mental acuity and your ability to recover. But it really hits hard once that nasty angry, hormone raging, puberty comes around. I have found over time that anger and yelling is definitely not the answer when dealing with this teenage metamorphosis. Staying firm and direct always wins when dealing with untamed emotions! Teaching your children to have a good sense of humor about their minor transgressions is also a good thing. There is an old saying I have plagiarized for years; He who yells first looses.  They can be absolutely disrespectful little shits that you want to beat within an inch of their lives as venom spews from their massive unrestricted pies holes. But staying calm while talking with a very firm almost terrifying tone wins each and every time. Once things have settled down, talking about what they were trying to accomplish also helps their young minds expand and become one with a future in adulthood.  Teenagers have wild emotional swings that are really not their fault, if we as parents can remain calm both parties win.

WHAT A BEING A FATHER IS

Humbling: I don’t care how tough you think you are, how many bullets you took in a gangland rumble, shrapnel from Afghanistan, bucking broncs you rode at NFR, Harley s you’ve built, Bulls you wrestled! MMA fighter, Doctor, scientist, Police Officer, Fireman, Garbage man, banker or lawyer.  I don’t care if you are this years Nobel Peace Prize recipient! The moment you hold a child, your child for the very first time, unless you are a piece of shit heartless bastard it will bring you to tears. Look into the face of that little wrinkled, pale, writhing, shaking life that now depends on you. That’s right buddy this human is a part of YOU! A baby’s cooing will make even the strongest mans knees buckle. That emotion never changes either. I cried just as hard as the day he was born on the day he left for college, you see in my eyes this one child had taken everything there was to give and now off into the world he went. I was spent, I was proud, I was filled with love, I was humbled by what God had entrusted me and my wife with. A life…

Full of mistakes: Hey big shot guess what? You are not perfect! Sure you scored four touch downs in a single high school game, went to college on scholarship, dated the homecoming queen, and now own the most successful flooring business in the tri-state area! Being a father is all about making mistakes and you sir are going to make them whether you like it or not! You are going to make huge, gigantic and at times what feels like irreversible mistakes! SO WHAT!!!! Do you know what separates the good dads from the bad ones? The ability to recognize those mistakes and act accordingly! Everything you have accomplished in life to this point doesn’t mean shit! You are now the CEO of a new company!  Corporations have merged creating a new entity and you need to give this start-up 100%! These people we bring into this world learn by watching and they are watching from the very minute they are born. If you act like an ass don’t question why your kid acts like an ass! If you treat people like shit expect the very same in return as they grow older. If you continually show compassion, empathy, creativity, solid ethics and an ability to communicate effectively you, your wife, and your children will all win! You wont always be perfect at it, but winners you will become. I have said this before many times but learning to say you’re sorry when you are wrong, sometimes even when you don’t feel as though you should apologize and your child will grow doing exactly the same. Being a dad is about setting a good example, but that example is not set by being perfect. It is set by being perfectly honest with yourself.

Rewarding: For every twenty set backs to your selfish life. (of course you didn’t know you were selfish until you had kids and your wife points it out to you. Over and over and over again) There are those moments. Moments that will stay with you forever. Moments that stir emotions within a man suppressed by modern-day society. Moments like the first time I saw my child walk on his own. Or when they draw you a picture and write; daddy I love you on it. When they climb in bed with you in the middle of the night or laugh at your impressions while reading a story. The first time they ride a bike, or sing on stage and to you looks like Travis Pastrana jumping buses or sounds like angels harmonizing in heaven. A solo with the clarinet, your daughter who was terrified riding a horse, now doing so with perfection and loving it! Letting them catch-all the fish on a day trip or helping them tie their shoes. It’s all the little things that make up the day. Its remembering not to let your shitty day fall upon their tiny shoulders because their hearts are so big they will gladly carry that burden for you without even knowing they are doing it. Coloring, legos, playing on the swing-set or jumping on the trampoline with them. Camping, smores and scary ghost stories. Watching them grow and evolve, change shape and voice tone. I once came across an old voice mail as we were changing out the system in my firehouse. It was my 14-year-old when he was 8. The sound of his little voice politely asking my voice mail for his dad to answer the phone please had me bawling like a baby. I hadn’t realized just how much this child had transitioned to almost man status until I heard the lost squeaky voice of his prepubescent age. It is still getting a hug and an; I love you dad, after they’ve turned 18. For all the freedoms given up, conquests never taken,  and selfish time disappeared there isn’t a moment I would trade, a second I would change or give up, for five minutes of being surrounded and loved by my children.

To my friend, I hope this helps your decision, I hope it made you laugh and puts you at ease.

If Love conquers all… Loving your children is the greatest reward.

family

 

 

 

 

 

2015- I cant wait to meet you.

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AND NOW A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE…

On January 1, 2014 I wrote this piece, posting it on the 2nd. My 2015 post is at the bottom of the page..

The Face of Leukemia 2014

Posted on January 2, 2014 by

images-10

2014 Day 1……..

364 days to live.

364 days to wake up every morning, count our blessing and live. 364 days to write a new and exciting story! You see my dearies pontificating New Years resolutions involving the standard fare of weight loss, higher education, finding love, spending more time with our children, adding onto the house, finding a better job, saving more money, vacationing more, visiting family and friends and so on and so on is just not my style this year. But watching my wife live is.

364 days, until I can count 365 more days of life lived, 365 days written into the history books of our family. Cancer has this funny way of cheating you from a reality lived by so many others, changing the way your life story is told.  Cancer also has a way of sticking in your craw like an annoying persons laugh or an itch you just cant scratch.  It’s there, no one else can see it, no one else can feel it, only those who have it, or love someone burdened by it understand, yet the rest of the world just goes on with its business of worrying about resolutions for which a majority will sadly never achieve.

A new year a new fear.

We are winning this battle! Jacys superwoman body has done incredibly well! The last bone marrow draw showed no signs of Leukemia swimming in her blood, lurking in the darkness like an evil monster. Consolidation therapy starts on Monday and she will begrudgingly return to the hospital for 5 days of chemotherapy.  Her strength is back, she is feisty as ever, feeding horses in the morning and an occasional walk in the afternoon! (rumor has it she was spotted jogging on a levee, but its only a rumor) The next round of therapy will knock her down again and from what we understand recovery gets harder each time she finishes a session. She will come home weaker and a little sicker. Chemotherapy is not for the light-hearted, these patients (my wife included) are my heroes as I have witnessed the strain it places on the human body.  Yet Super Jacy has never deterred from her mission. Kicking cancers ass one cell at a time!

A fear still remains though. What if it (Leukemia) comes back? What if her white blood cell count doesn’t recover? What if she catches a common cold during these periods, (something that could kill her) what if?????? These are fears we will live with for the rest of our lives.  Every cough that arises, every sniffly nose, every fever, every-time she feels run down, for the rest of her life she will need to go have blood drawn and see the doctor. 3 more times to go, 3 more week-long sessions, three more weeks of hell.  In the end, a small price to pay to live. Jacy promised me she loved me enough to beat this, she is keeping her word.

Day 1…. Today began our 2014 journey and Jacy spent it the only way she knew how.

It was a day filled with visiting friends, making her children laugh, planning a birthday party for her son and wondering whether or not to shave the small patches of hair fighting against the laws of chemistry. Little strands hanging on for dear life, trying their very best to make my wife look like a chia pet. Biggest decision of the day? Shave the head or let those little hairs grow only to meet an untimely death in 4 days.

With the beginning of a new year I wonder about the thousands of other spouses, significant others, and children all living and loving someone close to them with Leukemia. I worry about the ones who struggle to support their loved ones without the means of expression such as writing brings to me.  Do they lay in bed at night afraid of the darkness, wondering how long, why them, all while scooting a little closer to the one they love just to feel their body heat. Are they ok, do they know its ok to feel the way they feel, can they find peace? I am sure they do and I am just rambling, but its in my nature to worry about everyone and everything.

So welcome 2014! I welcome you with open arms (and Betty’s arms are plenty big enough) for the hug of a lifetime! 2014 we hope you are filled with many misadventures, happiness and love! But most of all 2014, we pray you don’t leave us reeling like your bastard predecessor 2013 did! But if you do, not to worry, the story you tell will be interesting none the less…

364 days… The story begins right now…

images-18And what a story the year 2014 became.

2014 was indeed a year of highs and lows and yes I embraced it all with open arms.

Leukemia, sickness, emergency rooms, a torn up knee, a hurt back, a bum shoulder, my horse injured yet again.  An old friend lost while other old friends struggled to understand why?

A senior headed off to college, a Freshman headed to Nationals for rodeo, a daughter no longer scared of horses and trying her hardest to train them herself. A littlest son, discovering his love for art, painting, drawing, and creating.

Hundreds of new friends, family members united, a wife who Kicked Cancers Ass and cheated death!

2014 was indeed a challenge; it has left myself feeling many years older than my earthly age. I am tired, worn, raw, broken and quite frankly even though there were scattered good times, very glad to see it go!.  This year found me working hard at remaining mentally strong throughout the first half while floundering physically during the second half. It was indeed a struggle to keep a positive attitude at times, but thankfully I had an entire village of people supporting me, something I will never forget.

Highs and lows, isn’t that what its all about? Highs and lows?  We travel this pathway of life learning, absorbing, growing and hoping one day we understand what it all means. Changing, evolving, sculpting our little piece or niche that we can point to and claim as our own, our destiny, our end game.

I don’t know what’s in store for this year 2015. So many things swimming in my head about life, the future and what it may or may not hold for myself and our family. What direction our lives should take, both personally and professionally. What lays around the corner, hiding in the darkness? Are more demons waiting to rear their ugly heads, further terrify our souls or is this family finally going to see a silver lining surrounding us for some time to come? My fingers remain crossed…

Either way there is one thing I know for sure, I am and always have been a believer in new beginnings; that each day you arise from slumber a fresh day awaits you like a clean chalkboard, an empty etch a sketch, or a blank canvas just waiting for your creation.  No matter the pain felt inside, no matter the physical or mental limitations holding you down, and no matter the baggage carried by others in your name. A new day awaits. But one must remember, with a new day comes a responsibility to create, otherwise it is just that and nothing more. Only your vision achieved through hard work and positive thinking can mold an unforgettable day, a brighter week and eventually with time and practice a spectacular year.

No one can hand you these skills, no one can will you an outcome, steal success for you or force you into making changes you need to succeed. Just you, only you, and only through an ability to let go of the past and look forward to a brighter future.

So even though I am tired, worn, raw and broken, a new year is on the horizon and with it, anticipation for 364 more days of creation…

Betty thanks you for following me in 2014 and wishes you all the very happiest of New Years…. 2015 here we come!

 

Party on man….

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santa

Christmas time is here my darlings; time for good tidings and fellowship! Time to praise God, celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and reflect upon another year gone by! A reflection that includes ones own growth or demise along with those cherished most. Family and friends.

One problem. After a long year filled with many activities, surrounded by a multitude of generations, families, friends, strangers, covering from here in California to as far East as Iowa. I have been fortunate enough to make new friends, meet, watch and cheer new kids playing new sports and revile as children I’ve known from childhood into adulthood move on with their lives.  Being the ever astute observationist it has come to my attention a certain (middle) age group believes entitlement should be afforded regardless of the fact they are not law-abiding adults.  It is also becoming rather apparent after witnessing such behaviors, looking on FB, Instagram and such this entitlement issue is expanding at a rapid rate, further propagated by the lackadaisical attitudes of the very same law-abiding of age adults that are supposed to be prohibiting such behavior!

What behavior would I be referring? Drinking alcohol, chewing tobacco, smoking cigarettes.

To say I am shocked would be a lie.

Oh yes I hear the groans now for this has been the very same argument passed from one generation to the next. The same question tossed forth year after year. Is this generation really worse than the last? Isn’t this the very issue we dealt with ourselves as young adolescents? Come on, whats a drink  here or a drink there anyways? A dip never hurt anyone and jeez our parents smoked all the time! Not everyone gets cancer right? Seriously, as long as it’s happening in my home under my watch its ok!

Now before I ramble on in some parent/wet blanket/buzz kill tirade lets clear the air.

I had my first drink at 13 and was a pretty proficient drinker by 16. Let that sit for a minute.

There was never a time, I turned down beer, California coolers or wine. If it showed up on friday night, I drank it, partied hard, then drove, where ever and when ever I pleased. I was hell on wheels and there was no stopping me! My parents tired of the fight and I think at one point short of just yelling at me every time they saw me, they gave up. I never came home at curfew, I stayed out way too late, put myself in situations I should never have been in, and I survived.  During the school week it was not uncommon to place a few drops of Everclear in a can of Copenhagen and get royally stoned during class. I snuck (gulp hard here) Black Velvet during the day replacing it with water in hopes no one would know, then hid in my room for hours on end staring at the ceiling wondering why I hated my life.

I was lucky.

My parents DID NOT condone this behavior. My parents tried everything they knew to stop me, but it didn’t work and do you know why? Because there was always somebody elses parents who did condone drinking. Someone else’s Uncle or Aunt who believed the law was stupid and as long as the drinking was held inside their home it was ok. If that didn’t work there were students who looked like adults and could purchase alcohol at 7-11, and there were students who worked at stores where alcohol was available, thus bringing it home for Friday and Saturday night parties on the hill, in a field or out at the sloughs. No Student drinking task forces with underage buyers to bust the stores, no one to stop the wheels of intoxication from turning and a law enforcement group that still believed a ride home or following you to your house with a stern talking too or speech to your parents was sufficient. We were just a bunch of really young kids with no common sense doing things that could (and in some cases did) change our lives forever.

So where am I going with this?

Today life is so much more complicated. Laws are tougher and enforced with vigor. Lawsuits are the norm as opposed to a last option. We as parents have much more to lose and so do our children.

It (temptation) is around us everyday, enveloping our moral compasses; Drink Budweiser and beautiful girls will flock to you. Stay thirsty my friends is touted as gorgeous twenty something’s caress the most interesting geezer in the world. Coors light can only be consumed by sheik sexy men who climb mountains to provide that ice-cold freshness for only you. Copenhagen is for the only the toughest of Cowboys, baseball players and such, and if you want to be the sexiest, coolest, darkest most brooding social misfit then light up! There is a multitude of products for you to burn down those lungs of yours.

Don’t worry though, thanks to the errors of your parents (such as myself) we are also drowning in advice, direction, and choices provided from the likes of MADD-Mothers Against Drunk Driving, TATU Teens Against Tobacco Use, AA-Alcoholics Anonymous etc.. yet despite this barrage of media saturation both in schools and on the street through social media outlets etc. Our kids continue to laugh it off as if nothing will ever happen to them! Do you know why they laugh it off, shrug their shoulders and continue to do as they please? Because we allow it, as parents WE are not unified. We are not setting the standard. WE never learned from our mistakes and are now in some instances relieving those glory years through our children without any thought about the ramifications within our modern-day justice system! ITS NOT 1983 ANYMORE PEOPLE!!!!!

Here is where my problem grows larger.

In the logical sense I am a hypocrite for telling my 14-year-old son not to drink solely based upon my torrid past.(Regardless of the obvious under 21 reality) Recently he was busted partaking in a bottle of beer with a friend. No doubt both of them were covered in AXE body spray, sipping their micro brews just waiting for Victoria’s secret models to fall from the sky on angels wings. I mean seriously they had 2 out of 3 of what advertising agents are gleefully promising the male species on television! So who am I to say he shouldnt do this? Drinking beer with friends; being one who went out of his way to do so at his age it is a conundrum for sure? What is the big deal anyways, its one beer right?

I can see it in his eyes, when his mother and I talk with him about consequences for his actions. The same genetic eye roll, the same blank stare, the very same I dont know what the hell I am talking about tone in his voice! Then just as my blood begins to boil and my teeth cant clench any tighter as I suffer through watching a smaller version of myself reincarnated! I think fine let him head down this path, let him learn the hard way, the same way I learned to become a complete failure! Her you go! Have at it! Your future will now consist of never being able to chase your dreams as a young man because once the party bug bites it’s a hard infection to shake! It’s all you will think about and everything else WILL SUFFER!

But I can’t do it…. I cant let him follow a path leading eventually to the possibility of losing everything he and his parents have worked so hard to achieve. Having been there, walked in those same old alcohol/barf soaked shoes, living through it was an exhausting personal, internal struggle to overcome and the time lost, I can never retrieve.

Like I said I was lucky. Not everyone is so…

Today our children not only risk losing their identities through alcohol/tobacco use, but with social media girls are at the highest risk ever of sexual impropriety. illicit photos taken, shared with god knows who, advances that would be thwarted otherwise, even rape.  The same goes for our young men, temptation is too great for their VERY underdeveloped minds! Hormones raging, social media at their finger tips, throw in peer pressure, some alcohol and a full-fledged conflagration is brewing. We expect them to act like men, their bodies begin to look like little men, they carry themselves in some case like men and yet we forget their minds are still that of a child!

So my worries continue; not just for my child (which is why I am rambling so), but for all our promising young adults. I don’t know how to fix this problem, I don’t know how to get other parents on board, I don’t know the answer when it comes to keeping my child on the straight and narrow. But I do know from what I have seen, a storm is brewing, our children are at risk, and it seems as though we are all living a life as if it (something horrible) will never happen to us, our children, or our families.

I will leave you all with this.

Last night I sat my boy down and told him as calmly and directly as I could.

Son, I know you are going to do stupid things, its genetic! (Insert laugh here) But I want you to know if that idiocy ever leads to you becoming inebriated or climbing into a vehicle with a drunk friend you need to call me. I will come and get you and your friends anywhere, anytime. I never want you to be so afraid of being punished that you make the wrong choice hoping you wont get caught. But let it be known, the very next day you will face your mother and I to answer for what you have done the night before.

He agreed then wondered why it was so important, that I drill this knowledge into his head. In his mind all he could correlate our conversation to was the fact he had drunk ONE lone beer the week before and I was seriously overreacting.

I looked him in the eyes, leaned over the counter and in a dead calm voice asked him. Have you ever been there when a mother is being informed her son was killed in a vehicle accident with a few of his friends and alcohol was suspected?

He looked at me and said; (sullenly) no

I placed my hand on his and told him I had, it hurts really bad. (my throat tightens and hurts as I type this)

Then just as calmly said; please dont ever put that responsibility upon someone else because you made a bad choice. It’s not fair, it never goes away and it can never be taken back.

I am hoping he understands….

Talk to your children about drinking, talk to your children about tobacco use, follow-up on their extra curricular activities, its your job to NOT be their friends, its your job to MAKE them hate you at some point, It’s your job to drive them crazy and when it’s all done hopefully with a little luck they turn into outstanding adults who will always remain your child, but have now earned your friendship.

Then sit back, reflect on another year gone by while enjoying watching the very same traits you instilled in them trickle down to their children, your grandchildren.

norman rockwell santa

 

The man in the mirror, the dad staring back….

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man in the mirror

Every day starts out exactly the same. Rising from my bed, a slow shuffle carries my hurting body into a bathroom where I come face to face with the one person I fight with the most.

Me.

It doesn’t matter whether I am at work or home, this process is exactly the same. Some days I like this person more than others, but for the most part we argue and fight constantly. I don’t know where my inner animosity arises but it is a part of who I am, what I will become and it stands in the way of every decision ever made in my life.

And I wonder.

Am I the only person fighting this inner fight? There is no guide book to a person’s life. Yes there are numerous books one may immerse themselves in to obtain information, but a reality remains that we as human beings spend our entire lives accumulating information making informed or by the gut decisions. Then we log our successes or failures away in that little brain of ours for which we only use a tenth of its actual power only to repeat the process all over again. Some will triumph and some will continue to flounder, drowning in the very mediocrity forced upon ourselves through a lack of conviction and confidence. Many will rise above, hearing the honesty associated with help offered while others will hear only what they want to hear. The wall of pride and stubbornness combined with an ever increasing annoying little voice in a man’s head telling them when they to look in the mirror; they are doing it all wrong!

I am a combination of both.

Pride, unearned, inexperienced, accumulated pride has kept me from growing to a potential that for some strange unexplained reason I know is within my reach. So how do I overcome this mountain placed before me?

There is a yearning deep inside my soul to help people, it has always been there, whether through deeds or a good story which may make them smile. My need to make someone feel better, help them through a crisis, fix a problem and carry their weight has indeed been a blessing and a curse all at once.

Since I was a small child fear ruled my life. The fear of failure, embarrassment or someone calling me out publicly kept me largely in the shadows. As I grew I found storytelling to be a release from the doldrums of my normal life. Real stories, occasionally twisted and spun with colorful exaggeration enticing a listener to pay attention, find something they could relate too or swim within the humor associated. As an adult there was more than storytelling needed as I began to feel a yearning to “walk the walk” instead of merely talking the talk. More action, challenges, more times I was told; you can’t. This of course only drove me to prove not only “I could” but I could do it better and faster sharing my experiences along the way hoping to entice others into taking a chance.

Writing came back into my life (Thank you Pam Adams SVHS creative writing teacher) and awakened something left for dead a long time ago. Words, the English language, a glorious medium to share, read, listen in one’s own voice and learn. Where else but through the written word can one interpret their very own story or piece of advice and come away with a mental picture that belongs solely to them? Definitely not by having it prepared for the recipient by a producer or videographer. That is left for the movie makers who wish us to just sit and absorb. Never questioning what we are witnessing with our eyes, for we are their captives, listening, absorbing exactly what ever feeling, emotion or storyline they the producers wish us to walk away with. Slowly becoming mindless drones.

So here we are today. Before I sat down, I was yearning for a story, any story, I have over ten written and carefully placed in file and yet not a one of them in my opinion are good enough for anyone else’s eyes. Walking into the bathroom to wash my hands before sitting down this afternoon and type, I find myself staring once again at the man in the mirror. A Walter Mitty like expression cast upon my face. But what does this man staring back want from me?

It is a known fact this man doesn’t have all the answers, he stares back with the very same intensity thrown his direction. Brow scrunched down, eyes on fire, wrinkles now taking the place of what was once smooth, chubby skin. He no longer feels any burden to prove anything to anybody but instead wants desperately to help someone, anyone, learn from all his mistakes (and there are plenty). The argument begins! How do I do it, why do I want to share and does anybody really care?

Then like a slap across the face it comes to me; what if there were fathers like myself, men staring in the mirror trying to find an answer, tired of listening to educated prophets explain what their inner most thoughts should be. Exactly how you are supposed to behave, picking roads you are supposed to travel, explaining the experiences and stages of life you are supposed to partake. What if dads or soon to be dads just wanted to hear from someone who has experienced portions of life that in fact may relate to them on a more personal level? Made mistakes and found answers the HARD way and although success is a measurement only you as a person can scale. Maybe just maybe someone might learn something that sounds reasonable. Not contrived or demeaning.

Stories and advice that are important and ring true; not because someone holds a Master’s degree and spent $100,000.00 dollars doing so (something I haven’t nor ever will do). But advice given and received in turn from someone simple, someone struggling, someone who believes the best knowledge gleaned comes from a hands on approach, a set of listening ears and a kind heart.

Someone who stares into the distance and wonders why?

That is what drives me to write, what I personally want to share, and that is why I started this blog, started chronicling the journey my family has taken through my eyes.

Please share your experiences on my blog, please share so others may share too. My wish is one day this blog has so many dads, moms, parents talking and expressing themselves over every decision, choice, rant, story involving our lives, our children that we can all laugh, cry and share our time as one, as a virtual family, then maybe there will be a few less men staring in the mirror, looking at the deep lines in their faces and the grey hair upon their heads wondering if they have done it all right.

The man in the mirror will be someone they really want to see…

man in the mirror two

 

#dads, #stayathomedads,#sharinglife

I may be a parental failure.

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Today my dears, a realization hit with the ferocity of a hammer.

I am a horrible father….

Since becoming a father on July 11, 1996 nothing has been more important for myself personally than becoming an extremely successful father (yes I am competitive). No books, no mentor following me around pointing out the do’s, don’ts, and why’s along with sharp poignant strategy to overcome even the smallest of situations. Nope just me and the wife figuring things out as we go.

Along this journey there has been incredible highs, overwhelming lows and obstacles thrown my way that far exceed anything one could ever have imagined in the parenting realm. Work, friends, my personal time and space all cast aside sometimes begrudgingly, but cast aside none the less because my eye has always been on the prize. That prize of course, becoming a great father with absolutely wonderful well-rounded children who outside the home are polite, practical, hardworking, giving, with empathy for their fellow-man, a strong social conscience, a definite awareness of right and wrong and a complete understanding that all actions bear consequences both good and bad. I don’t think it is too much to ask as a parent for your child to meet this glaringly obvious criteria before entering our revolving wacky, social populous. It is after all my job to help them become successful in life. As one half of this parenting equation and after time spent giving up on my own selfish wants and dreams it is with great sadness that I must report. I am indeed a horrible failure of a father.

A Horrible father you say; why how can this be true? I mean we all see the Instagram perfect Brady Bunch family pictures you post almost daily on Facebook! Is that all a lie?? Well my darlings its like this; after dealing with the emotional distress of graduating one child from high school while walking another warily through the very same gates. Struggling to understand the wants and needs of my, not quite but almost teenage daughter who balls her fists up whenever things don’t go her way like DeNiro in Raging Bull. Then standing slump shouldered and befuddled while my 9-year-old refers in the third person repeatedly to his “being” in the afterlife to avoid putting down the iPad and read an assigned book for the evening that I realized something is amiss. The whining, the complaining, the hatred or mean looks cast our way whenever we investigate, disseminate, initiate, propagate and communicate, well, it all just seems wrong. My parenting is missing something, I must not be reaching out to the children in a way they understand. Are my ways to old and antiquated, am I expecting too much? After doing further investigation I have determined the answer to be yes! I have gone about parenting all wrong, way, way wrong. Thanks to the internet, the Disney Channel, Snap-chat, Instagram, askfm, and Yik Yak I feel the needs of all children everywhere and it has nothing to do with my plan of attack or game plan as it were. No sir I was not only WAY off base I wasn’t even in the same ball park!

So from this point on it is with great trepidation that I must announce a new game plan, a winning formula for parental success! It has taken hours of deciphering the aforementioned comments, concerns and wickedly smart one liners thrown at us parents by our own children, both in person and on the internet. But seriously I think I got it down and failure is not an option!!!! So here goes..

From this point on I Betty declare here and now to my children that I will no longer:

  • Tell you what time to go to bed or care if you even “make” that bed.
  • Remind you to do your homework
  • Let you know you need a shower
  • Expect you to care about your grades
  • Expect you to study and achieve good grades
  • Expect there to be good grades when I check the schools web-site
  • Expect the teacher to give me a glowing review when I ask about your grades
  • Aw hell, even expect you to go to school
  • Limit your time on the x-box, Nintendo, or Playstation to the weekend only after your chores and homework are completed.
  • Have any chores for you to do at all. I apologize for the burden of work we placed on you.
  • Expect you to clean up your room
  • Lift the toilet seat before you pee
  • Put the toilet seat down after you pee
  • Clean up the god damn pee!!!
  • Flush the toilet
  • Brush your teeth
  • Do your own laundry
  • Fold your own laundry
  • Put away your own laundry
  • Even give a shit about what freaking clothes you are wearing!
  • Make you wash your hair again (of course this is if you are still showering)
  • Ask you to pick up after yourself
  • Feed your animals
  • Clean up after your animals
  • Hell even care at all about YOUR animals, set them free!
  • Care if you talk back/smart mouth your mother. It is open season from here on out!
  • Ask to see YOUR phone, even though we pay the bill I fully understand possession is 9/10ths the law. I am sorry for invading your privacy.
  • Look through your phones apps-once again apologies for the privacy invasion. My bad…
  • Punish you and take away your phone for inappropriate texts, pictures, and comments left on your phone by not only you but your friends as well. (That’s right you little bastards I know who you are and I have seen body parts that I cannot erase from my brain)
  • Set limits on your use or interpretation of the English language. No more G rating expected and all forms of slang are now allowed! Got it playa! I know sick huh! Word…
  • Monitor the television shows you watch.
  • Make you go to church
  • Ask you to help elderly people, such as grandma and grandpa. They are just gonna die anyways right?
  • Expect you to do the dishes after dinner
  • Expect you to help with dinner
  • Expect you to eat dinner. Your mother and I are hiring a professional eater for you.
  • Care whether you spend the entire day inside lying around or outside, lying around.

That was just a few examples but as you can see young children, fruit of my loins, this world is all yours for the taking! No more stupid old parents and their even stupider rules to bog you down! Dope huh?

This new winning strategy is sure to be a hit! I will no longer hang my head in shame as that of a failure! No more confrontation, no more irritation, no more aggravation, it is all yours, all three of you left in our house and you will chant the sonnet that is my name from the mountains high and it will ring sound from the hills below! It will be glorious, magnanimous, there will be parenting books written about me for decades to come as others soon follow my lead!

Things shall be written like, visionary, mind bending genius, a parenting guru! I shall grace the cover of People magazine and the View will book me ASAP!

Yes a new brighter future awaits!

Let the children live I say! Let them be free to express themselves anyway they see fit, do whatever they want to do and experience life in a way only our youth can admire! Imagine! Imagine the adults they will grow to become, the leaders, the thinkers, the pillars within their communities all because WE took the time to release them from the parental chains that bound them from true expression!!!! Yes….Yes… YESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!

Wait…….. Maybe I am not failure after all……

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