Why?

Frustrated.  Mad.  Upset.  That's been my feelings the last two days.  My recovery from foot surgery seemed to be going along swimmingly.  I was feeling pretty good, even able to lose the boot for a few hours at a time.  Well, not so much anymore.  Just when my foot was feeling better, I was feeling better overall, it decided to kick me back down again.  Friday morning I woke up and it hurt a lot more than it had but a few painkillers and I was able to tackle the day again.  By Friday night though, it was another story.  I took a few of the stronger painkillers, iced it, and tried to sleep.  It hurt so much I called my dad, who was in bed, for advice.  By 5 o'clock in the morning, the pain had woke me back up and I took some more stuff for the pain.  Which turned out to not be the best idea, to take it without food, and I regretted the decision later.  I called the surgery center and had my doc paged (lucky for me, he was on call).  He suggested I rest it and keep checking for redness and swelling.  My parents showed up a few hours later and by then, my foot was very swollen and red.  Infection.  :-(  I couldn't even stand to put weight on my heel anymore and crutches are the only way I can get around.  I've kept heat on it, been taking antibiotics, and have spent the entire weekend on the couch.  My foot is so tight that when I stand up, the blood rushes down and it feels like my skin could tear under the pressure.  Not exaggerating.  I'm mad.  Mad at the sudden loss of ability to get around.  Frustrated to have my recovery derailed.  And upset because, well, this sucks.  I'm supposed to call into the clinic tomorrow and see what they want.  If they want me to come in, I'm 2 hours away and unable to drive.  That means finding a friend here or asking my parents to drive 2 hours here, then 2 hours back.  And I'm afraid because worst case scenarios always come to mind.  One of the perks of having a doctor in the family.  So, if you're reading this, say a prayer.  I'd appreciate it.  My foot would appreciate it.

I'm reminded to praise Him when it's going well and praise Him when it's not.  Lord, I certainly have no idea what you're doing here, but I'm going to trust in it and since I don't feel like trusting, I know that the trust comes from You too.

Norman, the "Special" Kitty

Everyone who's ever been to my house has probably met "Norman".  Who's Norman?  He's my cat.  He's.....special.  Very special.  Why?  Well, let's back up a bit in the story to tell you his background.  Norman came to us as a barn cat, along with his brother, Baghera.  Baghera was like a dog.  He was one of the best cats I've ever been around.  Followed you everywhere, jumped on the bobcat and rode next to you while you threw hay, and loved cuddling in your hoodie sweatshirt pocket.  Unfortunately, he loved everyone and we think he jumped in someone's car from the weekend and went home with them.  Bye bye Baghera. So we were left with Norman and our other two cats, Manuella and Irving.  One day I went down to feed and I found a trail of blood on the barn floor.  I traced it first towards the tack room and found a pool of blood in the corner, but no source.  So I followed the trail the other way and found a very scared kitten, Norman.  I scooped him up, put him in a bucket and on up to Amie's house I went.  We cleaned him up and found that most of his injuries were to his neck/head area.  I took him to my house to recuperate but he grew weaker each day until he couldn't stand on his own, eat, or drink.  He shook and wobbled and he had a pocket of infection in his neck area.  I took him into the vet expecting that he would probably not survive.  They gave me some antibiotics but their fear was that he was already neurological and that hope was slim.  I took him home and began nursing him.  He couldn't stand up or eat or drink.  So I bought canned food and fed him bits at a time.  I used a dropper to give him water.  And I changed the towels in my laundry basket twice a day as that was his home.  I kept thinking each day that he wouldn't last.  That I was doing it for naught.  But at some point, and I don't know when, he started to recover.  Little by little, day by day.  And eventually he was let loose around the house, although his ability to use a litter box was questionable.  He walked around with his head cocked to the left all the time.  He couldn't jump well so I had to lift him onto the dryer for him to eat.  He ran frantically around the house, either chasing something or running from something.  He has obsessive compulsive tendencies (ex. scratching the side of the tub for minutes at a time) and he's usually scared to death of everything.  And he's mostly deaf.  He drives me nuts when he knocks over stuff, Duke and Seuss have to be so patient with him as he likes to surprise attack them for no reason at all, and I wonder why I keep him.  First off, he's got no where to go.  He'd never survive the outside world and no one would probably want him with all his quirks.  The two times he's gotten out of the house and been gone for days.....I worried so much even though the house was so calm without him in it.  Even though he's scared of everything and everyone, he is really a love bug.  When I sit down, he likes to nestle down into the crook of my arm and he'll stay there until I move.  He spends every night on my bed and sometimes I'll wake up and he'll be right next to my head or curled up in the same manner I am.  He'll always have a home with me, he'll always be safe.  My furniture and knick knacks may not survive him, but I will.

Playing Angry Birds with me

Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother

As I grow older, while I am, in several ways, different than my parents, I also have several qualities from each of them that I possess.  So, in another way to honor my parents, I thought I'd share some things that I think I inherited/picked up from them.

Let's start with my dad.  My dad, the logical man with the straightforward thought process.  Great qualities of a doctor.  While my line of thinking may not seem clear to others, there is almost always a very clear line of logic going on in my mind.  I'm very capable of doing things spur of the moment and I'm not a big planner for the future.  However, when I do go about something, there's an "A to B to C" line of thought.  But I'm not going around with blinders on.  I'm capable of taking a turn off the course and there will probably be a reason why.  Also, my dad is a huge reader and he's fast.  While my mom loves to read too, she will tell you herself that she isn't fast.  I'm fast.  If I get the time to sit down and read, I'll have a book gone in a day or two.  My dad and I like to know why and how something happened.  That's probably why we both took an interest in the sciences.  

My mom....oh my mom.  I am so much like her in more ways than I would have ever thought.  My mom is a very giving person.  She will do anything for anybody and never expect anything in return.  I saw that growing up and I'd like to think that it rubbed off on me.  The way I'll drop anything when someone calls and needs help or see a chore (folding laundry, doing dishes) and do it for them, but never really wanting anything in return.  Always working, always doing something, hating to be still, and not letting an injury or illness keep her down (at least not for long).  I try to let myself "be still" at times, to rejuvenate, but I'm on the go too.  My mom's a doer for sure.  And the last thing I got from her.....definitely the sense of humor/sarcasm.  Oh yeah, I definitely picked that up.

And some things are a blend of the two.  My dad's emotional and he shows it on the outside.   I saw my mom as such a strong person, who didn't let anything get to her, and she didn't show it on the outside because we all needed her to be so strong.  While growing up, I told myself that I didn't want to be called a "cry baby" anymore (as tears came so easily) so I started trying to hide it so that I could be considered strong and to show no weakness.  I'm realizing it's okay to be in the middle.  Something else that's from both of them?  A very strong sense of country, of patriotism, a deep seeded respect for our military, and love for the country we live in, no matter how screwed up it is at times.

As much as I may or may not like it, I am my parent's child. Of this there is no doubt. I'm moved out now, have been for several years.  I'm still to honor them.  I'm not necessarily honoring them how I used to when I still lived under their roof, but I'm honoring them differently.  Being to them what they were to me.   Honoring our family. A help, patient, loving, kind, influencing the world around me.  (For example:  Being patient when showing them the capabilities of their phone and computer.  I mean, how patient were they when they taught me to ride a bike, read a book, shoot a basket, finish homework.  The hours spent taking me to sports practices, 4-H meetings, etc.  :-) ) They have done so much for me, much much more than I could ever repay.  So what will I do?  Honor them, make them proud, and then raise my kids, God willing, to be good, hardworking, God fearing, respectful, caring young people who will go out and change the world in their own way.

Celebrate? Why not?

In case you haven't seen on facebook recently, a good friend of mine, Ben Gleason, won a halftime contest at a Purdue University men's basketball game.  What's crazy about all of this?  Everything!  His video on youtube?  Over 5,000 views.  Number of people who "liked" the Purdue Athletics post about the contest?  69 people.  Number of shares of the video on facebook?  24.  And that is just through the Athletics FB page.  Then there are all the shares from those who posted it to their own page from our own personal FB pages.  The crazy number of posts on his own page.  The Journal and Courier, Ben's own hometown news station back in New York, and our local country radio station have all contacted him for an interview and have since aired.  So what's the big craze?  That he was chosen out of an unknown number of those who entered the contest?  That he made all three shots on the first attempt?  That he did the "Tebow" afterwards?  That he won a $5,000 diamond?  What is the one thing that is getting all of the attention?  Honestly, we don't know.  But does it matter?  Let's go back.

Ben and his father-in-law, Larry, were at the Purdue vs. Illinois basketball game on December 31st and they announced that you could enter a halftime contest to win a $5,000 diamond from Stall and Kessler's at a future game.  If you were chosen, you had 20 seconds to make a layup, free throw, and three pointer with you getting your own rebounds.  Being that Ben is someone of our group that enjoys the limelight while Amie and I tend to avoid it, he takes those kinds of "risks" and entered the contest.  He found out that next week that he had been chosen.  Ben was no stranger to basketball but it had been a while since picking up the ball.  He was able to use a school's gym and get in some practice over the next few days.  Ben's a good shooter, a good athlete, but we all knew that the "kicker" in all of this was what if he missed?  Would he be able to get the rebounds in time?  20 seconds isn't much time, especially if you have to go chase down your own balls.  It's one thing to be able to shoot around and hit those shots but quite another to do it under pressure, in front of thousands.  But only time would tell.  Ben and Amie bought tickets for the Purdue vs Wisconsin game on January 12th.  He practiced, but not too much.  He was ready for it.  As Ben usually is, he was calm, cool, and collected.  As halftime came up, they decided that Amie would not go down to be with him as he shot but would stay in the stands.  This turned out to be a neat experience for her to see everything from as the crowd saw it, especially as they realized that the guy who had been sitting next to them was suddenly on the court.  (Hey!  Wasn't he just here in front of us?)  As he got ready, Ben tried getting the crowd into it but the energy was lacking a bit.  Who knows if they were really paying attention or they'd seen all these contests before and more often than not, people don't hit all three.  Either way, he only got a few cheers.  The announcer asked if he was ready, he gave him the thumb's up, and the 20 seconds were on.  First shot was the layup.  Perfect.  Some clapping and cheering.  Second shot was the free throw.  Nothing but net.  Now people were paying attention.  He just might do it!  In 7 seconds, Ben had gone 2/2 and only needed the three point shot to win and he had 13 seconds left.  The crowd was cheering and yelling.  He calmly sets up, takes a breath, and........SWISH!  A little "Tiger" fist pump, hands pointed to the sky, and a point to the ring finger for Amie's benefit and the crowd was going crazy for him.  Then he knelt down and did the "Tebow".  Now Mackey Arena was rockin'!!  Maybe they underestimated him based on outward appearances and then he surprised them, maybe because the prize was so big, maybe because he did it with so little effort, or maybe because, in this day in age, people needed something, anything to cheer about.  In reality, it's not that big of a deal.  But, maybe....it is.  Maybe it really is a big deal.  What did Ben do?  He went 3/3 in less than 20 seconds and won Amie a new diamond.  He ignited the crowd with his "Tebow".  And he gave them a distraction, something to be happy about, to talk about, to cheer about in a day when all we hear on the news are bickering politicians, war and death, ungrateful folks doing protests, bad economy, sickness, and crime.  It's a bright story in the midst of so much negativity.  People all around Amie were asking, "Hey, wasn't that the same guy who was just sitting here?"  I was responding to people on facebook in "real time" who's statuses were asking, "Hey camp folks.  Was that just Ben Gleason on ESPN?" to which I responded, "Yes, yes it was our very own Ben", and from there, it spread so fast.  You can now say, he's gone viral.

Amie and I have both been amazed at the amount of attention yet it still brings a smile to our face every time we watch the video.  Why?  It's fun to see Ben handle the publicity.  It's fun to have folks talking about it.  It makes people we don't even know excited.  Within the Camp T Facebook network, the news spread like wildfire.  There were several people he knew that happened to be at the game.  Videos we posted were re-posted by people in California and New York, Amie and Ben's home states respectively, and states in-between.  And it makes us wonder why we don't celebrate more.  Does it have to be a huge accomplishment in order for us to get excited and tell others?    When you ask someone how they are doing or when someone asks you, what do you say?  Do you just say things are fine and go on?  (Or do you dwell on all the bad stuff going on?)  What about the cute thing your child said before they left for school?  The things that maybe you have accomplished personally or noticed in your own life and recollections?  Maybe they aren't news makers, but they affect you and to you, they matter.  Then, do you listen to others when they tell you how things are going and do you get genuinely excited for their little things in life because they matter to them?  I don't think it's necessarily bragging but celebrating.  Does it have to be just graduations, weddings, and babies?  We're not talking about celebrating every tiny little thing but let's celebrate more.  Less focus on the negative things in life.  Maybe we can forget about our money and work woes and let a little joy into our lives.  Celebrate.  Be happy for others.  Rejoice with them.  Have fun.  Life is short.  Times are tough.  Be joyful.

Watch the Shots for the Diamond Now


  

Being Part of the Team

The Gleason clan and I went to a West Lafayette girls/boys varsity basketball game Friday night and it brought back lots of memories of spending Tuesday and Friday nights either watching my brother play soccer and basketball or myself playing my own sports (volleyball and eventually basketball).  If there was one thing I regretted about where I went to high school was the lack of sports options (never mind the superb education!).  It took me several years of asking our principle, Mr. Ice, (from elementary years on up) to get him to organize a girls basketball team.  While I played volleyball the most, basketball was my love.  My parents can attest to the fact that I would practice on our court all the time, rain or shine, cold or hot.  Making up last second scenarios, pretending to be the hero hitting the winning shot....ah, I probably spent hours just practicing my ball handling skills.  I can still see myself helping in the sports field someday.  I even thought about an advanced degree in exercise physiology (after dismissing being a physical therapist who concentrated with sports teams).  I love sports.  I love the competition, the drive to make yourself better, and being a part of a team.  Sometimes I wonder about the path not taken.

The point of this was when I realized how "badass" those of us on the athletic teams thought we were.  I leaned over to Amie at one point during the game, asked her if she ever felt that way, and we both chuckled yes.  Then she pointed out the "strut".  You know what I mean.  I remember wearing the uniform, having the jacket, looking all cool before/during/after the game.  You were the boss.  You walked with confidence.  You were an athlete.  You ruled.  People came to the gym to see you and your team play.  And I chuckled as I saw those athletes walk by.  I'm not putting those kids down by any stretch of the imagination.  I chuckle because I was them.  And it's fun, for those moments in time, to be cool, to feel like you're top dog.  Obviously you don't want to put others down and it was hard because athletes did get to do cool/awesome things like miss school for a tourney, skip out of class early, etc.  Yeah, we thought we were boss.  Especially when you were on the All-Tourney team or were voted Most Improved Player.  Yeah, I was pretty proud of those awards.  ;-)

And I think that whenever you belong to something, you tend to get that feeling.  For instance, working at camp you can develop that "strut".  You belong here, you have access to the "behind the scenes", and you know the workings.  I see kids who look at us, going into rooms they can't go into, in essence, seeing us with power.  And I think that's part of it.  When you feel like you're a part of something, you have confidence because you think you have power.  And not that it's a bad thing.  As always, with power comes responsibility.  Do right by it.  Treat others well.

Relief!

It all happened so suddenly, yet it's been in the making for 2 years.  Two years ago I injured my foot after hitting it against a piece of wood.  While it hurt a lot for about 3-4 days, it started to get better.  Therefore I decided to let it continue getting better and not go to the doctor.  It continued as a nagging pain through the spring and summer and hurt too much to run, jump, land heavily on it.  It was like a stabbing pain inbetween two bones in my foot and left my toes with a numbing feeling at at times.  I decided that next fall, after seeing that I was wearing out one side of my shoe more than the other since I was walking on the side of my foot, that I would head to the doctor, a podiatrist.  His thought?  The tendons.  Three appointments later, a dose of prednisone, and I was wearing a big bulky boot that only served to hurt more than help.  I decided that he wasn't on the right track so I headed to an orthopedic doc in Lafayette.  After x-rays, he thought it was a stress fracture so it was on to one month of physical therapy.  While the therapy helped strengthen my ankle and such due to the year of walking differently, it never got to the source of the pain. They released me telling me it would get better.  After another month of not getting better, I went back to the doctor who ordered a MRI which told them nothing.  A cortisone shot later and his diagnosis?  Tendonitis (for a year, really?).  So I went on home and continued to deal with the issue in any way I could.  I used non medicated callous pads to help cushion the area (on the advice of my chiropractor) which helped.  Ice packs, wraps, whatever.  In March, I got into a doctor from Muncie on the advice of my dad.  He now thought it was a Morton's Neuroma but recommended me to another doctor in the same building.  However he had a long wait so it was going to have to wait until after camp was done.  So two days after camp was over I was back to the doctor and his thought was that I tore the ligaments in my foot which led to scar tissue.  That scar tissue was more than likely irritating the nerves in my foot.  He injected with a different combination of drugs and he injected deep into the foot.  It was to be a more diagnostic tool than a cure.  For if it worked, it meant that we were on the right track.  If it didn't, he didn't really know of a next step.  Obviously, I was praying it worked.  And worked it did.  For two months, I was basically pain free.  A few twinges every now and then but I could run and do most everything.  When did that end?  Right before I left for Yellowstone.  The days of long hiking were not very fun.  I was able to get back to the doctor in November and although he gave me another shot, he only gave me a half strength one due to the limited amount of fat and tissue in my foot and his recommendation was that surgery was the next step.  I decided to not go for surgery right away as, well, that's just not something to rush into.  However that second shot didn't work as well and although it took away some pain, it didn't take away all.  So I called the doctor's office about three times trying to get a hold of someone to talk through options.  I didn't hear back for two weeks and just as Amie and I were talking about it, they called back (literally just as we were talking).  I talked through options and it appeared surgery would be it.  And as we were talking, someone cancelled their surgery for that Friday (this was a Wednesday) and I agreed to get it done sooner rather than later.  In my line of work, winter is a good time to be off.  I'll admit to being very nervous but I found a very willing best friend (Amie!) who would drive me to Muncie and back.  Here we go, the end to a 2 year ordeal that left me frustrated and depressed at times.  Constant pain that no one could fix.  We left early Friday morning to head to a pre-op appointment then bummed around Muncie till the 3:30 surgery.  Thankfully I was not going to be under general anesthesia, just an ankle block and some "happy juice" so I wouldn't care.  I remember that after they injected the "HJ", I thought to myself, "I don't feel anything.  Wait.  Whoa.  I'm dizzy.  And it tastes bad."  :-)  The worst part were the 6 injections to make my foot numb.  They wheeled me in and 17 minutes later, wheeled me out.  I remember every part and even could "feel" them working, although I felt no pain.  I remember the room being very cold and telling them who my dad was (and they knew him).  After spending a little time in post-op, they wrapped up my foot, put it in a boot, and sent me and Amie on our way.  A stop at Taco Bell, CVS, and Dairy Queen on the way home and finally, home.  It hasn't been too terrible.  A lot of time on the couch.  The painkillers definitely wipe me out a little more than I'd like.  While I can't do much now, I am looking forward to see if this will work once and for all.    I remember the doctor coming in after the surgery asking if I felt better because I look relieved....if only he truly knew how relieved I felt.

For now, just call me "gimpy" or "hop-a-long", I've responded to both.

I've seen a lot from this angle.

My pretty foot 2 days post surgery.

2012

2011 is over.  2012 is here.  I have no idea what it'll bring but I'm hoping it'll be good.  I don't typically make new year's resolutions but I do have a few goals in mind.

First off, follow through and finish projects.  What typically happens around us is that we get a project going, get almost to the end where we need one more piece or tool to finish and we don't have it so the project stops....and so does the motivation.  Don't think, "I'll get back to it tomorrow or I'll go by the dumpster tomorrow to drop that off."  Do it while you are thinking of it.  That's a goal for the EQ department and me personally.  For instance, my coat rack that I made is ready to hang.  I just don't have a level.  ;-)  Almost done, but not quite.

Another goal?  After wrestling with foot issues the past two years (yeah, way too long), I have got to finally put an end to this craziness and somehow get it fixed.  Yes, I've been to several doctors and had lots of things done but I think the end result will be surgery.  (Tore some ligaments and the scar tissue is irritating the nerves in the foot)  I haven't been able to really run or exercise without it bothering me so to get it fixed and be able to return to that will be a boost.  Running is very therapeutic and after spending 2 years hurting, I've been frustrated, mad, and downright depressed at times and feeling sorry for myself.  It really wears on you and I'll be so happy to get back to running and exercising.

Unplug!  Unplug the computer a little more and get into books a little more often, including the Big Book.  I will confess that I haven't been in the good Book much lately so I'm not sure where to start.  But we'll see where it goes.

Finances.  I made the move to use cash for almost everything about halfway through last year.  Now it's on to working on reducing debt and reducing impulse buys.

So these goals weren't made for 2012.  They were things I started working on last year.  Resolutions shouldn't have to wait till January 1st.  Change can happen any day of the year.  If you made a resolution, good for you.  Just try to keep with it all year long.