But it's time to start writing again. I was reading back on my old entries. This was so much fun. Stay tuned, ya'll.
The Lord of the Rants is back.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Anyone out there?
The last time I wrote anything on this website, it was 2011. I was on the verge of becoming a father for the first time. A lot has changed in the years following the birth of Andersen, now a beautiful and amazing toddler.
But it's time to start writing again. I was reading back on my old entries. This was so much fun. Stay tuned, ya'll.
The Lord of the Rants is back.
But it's time to start writing again. I was reading back on my old entries. This was so much fun. Stay tuned, ya'll.
The Lord of the Rants is back.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
10 Minutes is 9 min. 50 seconds Too Many
Hey everyone, SHIT! (So Happy It's Thursday)
Hope you're all having a wonderful day. T-minus 2 months and counting until Baby Andersen arrives. Trine and I are very excited about the birth of our son. Not sure how much blogging I will be doing for a while, so I am just trying to get some thoughts down before all of my thoughts are consumed by the baby. Here's a few of them!
Ke$ha $uck$
Hope you're all having a wonderful day. T-minus 2 months and counting until Baby Andersen arrives. Trine and I are very excited about the birth of our son. Not sure how much blogging I will be doing for a while, so I am just trying to get some thoughts down before all of my thoughts are consumed by the baby. Here's a few of them!
Ke$ha $uck$
This morning at the gym, a Kesha song came on the overhead speaker. As I vomited just a little bit into my mouth, I thought of something I read recently:
On Ultimate-Guitar.com , there was an article about how Kesha, despite actually making music that I wouldn’t force a deaf person to sit through, is actually a big rock n’ roll fan. Ok, so am I supposed to be impressed by this? On a website whose main audience is musicians and fans of rock n’ roll music, why should we care about this, especially when her music is the furthest thing from rock n’ roll. She could be the biggest metal head out there, she still makes horrific music. If you ask me, her main influences seem to be Lady Gaga and the sounds of a sick cat being tortured through auto-tune.
In full disclosure, I have only heard 2 or 3 songs from Kesha, so about 10 minutes, which happens to be 9 minutes and 50 seconds more than I needed to realize this woman’s music is the soundtrack to being eaten alive from the inside out by some sorta of horrifying bacteria.
Oh speaking of bacteria, if she brushes her teeth with Jack Daniels, I can't imagine her oral hygeine being all that good.
By the way, what exactly does it mean to wake up feeling like P. Diddy? How does a white girl wake up feeling like a rich black man? Did she wake up missing Biggie Smalls? Did she perhaps wake up thinking about sampling a classic rock song into some awful inane hip hop song? I’d like some clarification. Wait, no I don’t. I just want her to go away.
Motorcyclists Need to Watch out for Me
So after the gym, I began driving to work. On my way I saw a bumper sticker saying “Watch out for Motorcycles”, which reminded me a bumper sticker I saw that said “Look Twice for Motorcycles” and sometimes electronic billboards on the highways display similar warnings. I shake my head at this. I don’t know about other places in this country, but down here in lovely south Florida, motorcyclists do not give a flying fuck. The weave in and out of traffic at 90 mph, they drive in the breakdown lane, they avoid and break traffic laws, and many of them don’t wear a helmet while doing so. Now I have no desire to cause any accidents, but I guess I just chuckle at the idea of being warned to take care for the safety of these people, when they obviously don’t care about their own safety. Am I reading it wrong? Maybe the bumper stickers are to warn those in cars to watch out, i.e. "Watch Out for Motorcyles Or You Might Get Killed."
Can you google "Guilty"?
So down here in Florida, there is a trial going on for a woman named Casey Anthony who allegedly (and in this case “allegedly” can be swapped out with “obviously”) killed her young daughter. This is, oddly, not the worst thing that I’ve heard of a parent down here doing to their child.
Now, young Caylee went missing in June 2008 after leaving her grandparent’s house with her murderer…err, mother. Her grandmother reported her missing in July 2008. Casey Anthony, in between clubbing and hot body contests, told police that her daughter was taken by a babysitter…one that no other friend or family member had ever seen. In fact, the so-called babysitter denies even knowing Casey or Caylee Anthony. Oops.
An old boyfriend testified that during the time Caylee was supposedly missing, Casey never mentioned it to anyone. An entry in Casey’s diary at around the time the child would have died talks about having no regrest and finally being happy, but hoping everything turns out ok. Now, they can’t 100 % confirm Casey wrote it, or that it was in reference to the death of her child, but come on, seriously?
Caylee’s remains were found that December near Anthony’s house. Duct tape and pastic bags were also found in Casey Anthony’s home. They also found traces of possible human decomposition and chloroform in the trunk of her car. So she obviously called up Scott Peterson for some advice on how to avoid detection. In addition, her computer apparently had google searches of the terms "neck breaking," "how to make chloroform," and "death". She should have googled "getting rid of evidence".
On Ultimate-Guitar.com , there was an article about how Kesha, despite actually making music that I wouldn’t force a deaf person to sit through, is actually a big rock n’ roll fan. Ok, so am I supposed to be impressed by this? On a website whose main audience is musicians and fans of rock n’ roll music, why should we care about this, especially when her music is the furthest thing from rock n’ roll. She could be the biggest metal head out there, she still makes horrific music. If you ask me, her main influences seem to be Lady Gaga and the sounds of a sick cat being tortured through auto-tune.
In full disclosure, I have only heard 2 or 3 songs from Kesha, so about 10 minutes, which happens to be 9 minutes and 50 seconds more than I needed to realize this woman’s music is the soundtrack to being eaten alive from the inside out by some sorta of horrifying bacteria.
Oh speaking of bacteria, if she brushes her teeth with Jack Daniels, I can't imagine her oral hygeine being all that good.
By the way, what exactly does it mean to wake up feeling like P. Diddy? How does a white girl wake up feeling like a rich black man? Did she wake up missing Biggie Smalls? Did she perhaps wake up thinking about sampling a classic rock song into some awful inane hip hop song? I’d like some clarification. Wait, no I don’t. I just want her to go away.
Motorcyclists Need to Watch out for Me
So after the gym, I began driving to work. On my way I saw a bumper sticker saying “Watch out for Motorcycles”, which reminded me a bumper sticker I saw that said “Look Twice for Motorcycles” and sometimes electronic billboards on the highways display similar warnings. I shake my head at this. I don’t know about other places in this country, but down here in lovely south Florida, motorcyclists do not give a flying fuck. The weave in and out of traffic at 90 mph, they drive in the breakdown lane, they avoid and break traffic laws, and many of them don’t wear a helmet while doing so. Now I have no desire to cause any accidents, but I guess I just chuckle at the idea of being warned to take care for the safety of these people, when they obviously don’t care about their own safety. Am I reading it wrong? Maybe the bumper stickers are to warn those in cars to watch out, i.e. "Watch Out for Motorcyles Or You Might Get Killed."
Can you google "Guilty"?
So down here in Florida, there is a trial going on for a woman named Casey Anthony who allegedly (and in this case “allegedly” can be swapped out with “obviously”) killed her young daughter. This is, oddly, not the worst thing that I’ve heard of a parent down here doing to their child.
Now, young Caylee went missing in June 2008 after leaving her grandparent’s house with her murderer…err, mother. Her grandmother reported her missing in July 2008. Casey Anthony, in between clubbing and hot body contests, told police that her daughter was taken by a babysitter…one that no other friend or family member had ever seen. In fact, the so-called babysitter denies even knowing Casey or Caylee Anthony. Oops.
An old boyfriend testified that during the time Caylee was supposedly missing, Casey never mentioned it to anyone. An entry in Casey’s diary at around the time the child would have died talks about having no regrest and finally being happy, but hoping everything turns out ok. Now, they can’t 100 % confirm Casey wrote it, or that it was in reference to the death of her child, but come on, seriously?
Caylee’s remains were found that December near Anthony’s house. Duct tape and pastic bags were also found in Casey Anthony’s home. They also found traces of possible human decomposition and chloroform in the trunk of her car. So she obviously called up Scott Peterson for some advice on how to avoid detection. In addition, her computer apparently had google searches of the terms "neck breaking," "how to make chloroform," and "death". She should have googled "getting rid of evidence".
They defense has already started playing the “She was sexually abused” card saying she was diddled by her dad. Sad, and all, but not a defense for killing her child. This is probably right before they bring out the big guns: the pretty white girl defense. Nevertheless, I am curious to see where this one goes.
So there you go. Why I hate Kesha and why I would make an awful juror.
Have a nice weekend everyone!
So there you go. Why I hate Kesha and why I would make an awful juror.
Have a nice weekend everyone!
Monday, May 16, 2011
Organ Donation & Transplantation: Separating the Myths from the Facts, or Don’t Believe Anything You See on Grey’s Anatomy
First off, I need to thank my wife, Trine, for supplying me with the information here. She’s a med student, and has been immersed in the world of organ donation & transplantation since she received her liver transplant at age 2. I am relatively new to this whole business. Long story very short: I was born with a liver disorder called Biliary Atresia, had surgery has a baby, and it held until I was 26 years old, in the summer of 2007. Then everything changed. My liver began to fail, and I was told I needed a liver transplant in order to save my life. In May 2008, just about three years ago, I received my transplant. I had about 6 months of post-transplant complications, but have been doing great since then. I’ve gotten the chance to talk to a lot of folks about my experience and about organ donation in general. Many of these people have sick or transplanted children, and it’s pretty cool to be able to offer inspiration or helpful words to people going through what I went through.
But there’s a lot of bullshit out there, especially in the way organ donation & transplantation is portrayed in your favorite medical dramas on TV. For example, Grey’s Anatomy. I start throwing things when I see doctors on TV screaming at a dead boy’s parents about how they have to donate their dead son’s organs right now, in order to save the life of a young girl, etc, etc, I just turn to Trine and say, “Well, we just lost another bunch of organ donors.” Sadly, many people believe what they see on TV. Right now, I am trying to say that when it comes to organ donation & transplantation, please DON’T.
Myth: I am too old to be a donor.
Fact: Anyone can be a potential donor regardless of age or race. Each potential donor is referred to the local organ recovery agency to evaluate if they are medically eligible to donate. Currently, patients with a history of malignancy, HIV, or Hepatitis B Surface Antigen are not eligible donors.
Myth: Only abdominal organs can be transplanted.
Fact: Transplantable organs include: Liver, Heart, Lungs, Kidneys, Pancreas, and Small Bowel. You can also donate tissues and bone marrow.
Myth: If I’m an organ donor, the doctors won’t work as hard to save me.
Fact: If you are sick or injured and admitted to the hospital, the number one priority is to save your life. Organ, eye and tissue donation can only be considered after you are deceased. No investigative or oversight agency has ever found evidence of poorer care in organ donors occurring. It is not standard procedure for the paramedics or emergency department doctors to look for a donor card. Though, they may steal your Dave and Buster’s card. A patient cannot be considered for organ donation if they don’t have a breathing tube in place and stabilized blood pressure.
Myth: Saying, “I’d like to donate my organ to her, if you know what I mean” is a hilarious and clever way of saying you’d like to have sex with a woman
Fact: Is it not.
Myth: They’ll take out my organs before I’m dead.
Fact: Donation is not offered to a family until a patient is dead by every clinical definition. “Brain death” is the medically, legally, and morally accepted determination of death. That means that there is no blood flow or oxygen to the brain. The brain is no longer functioning in any capacity and never will again, not unlike the audience at an average Oprah show taping. Two licensed physicians must make the diagnosis before the organ donation process can begin.
Fact: There are two types of cadaveric organ donation– donation after brain death and donation after cardiac death.
Brain death is defined as the complete and irreversible loss of all brain function including the brain stem. Donation after brain death is the classic model of organ donation and what most people think of.
Donation after cardiac death is offered to families after they have made the independent decision to withdrawal artificial support of their loved one. The patient is brought into the O.R., artificial support is withdrawn, and asystole ensues. Several minutes after asystole, the organs are recovered for transplantation. Asystole is a fancy-pants way of saying “the patient has flat lined.”
Myth: Rich and famous people get moved to the top of the waiting list.
Fact: When you are on the waiting list for an organ, what really counts is the severity of your illness, time spent waiting, blood type, and other important medical information. The system of allocation does not factor wealth or social status. Race, gender, age, income, or celebrity status is never considered when determining who receives an organ. Please note this does not apply those in Arizona. If you live in Arizona, and you need a transplant, and you are not rich, then you are screwed.
Myth: Criminals steal organs to sell on the black market.
Fact: It is illegal to sell an organ. It is possible to give a kidney, liver, or lung while living. However, as George Lopez’s wife is finding out, you can not ask for it back in the divorce. A doctor found performing a transplant of stolen or sold organs would have their medical license revoked. There are no documented cases of stolen organs and there is not a black market for organs in the United States. There is, however, an active market in other countries. So, if you have functioning organs, it’s best not to travel outside of the United States.
Myth: My religion doesn’t approve of organ donation and transplantation.
Fact: All major religions in the United States support organ, eye, and tissue donation and see it as the final act of love and generosity toward others. Also, some made-up religions do, too. May the Fonz be with you.
Myth: I want to have an open casket funeral, therefore I can’t be an organ donor.
Fact: An open casket funeral is possible for organ, eye, and tissue donors. Through the entire donation process the body is treated with care, respect, and dignity. Which is a nice change, considering people who are alive aren't always treated with care, respect, and dignity.
Myth: Organ donation will add to my hospital bill.
Fact: There is no cost to the donor or their family for organ or tissue donation. Sadly, I know someone who was told this for years by a friend, and it stopped them from being an organ donor for a very long time.
Fact: 18 people die every day waiting for the gift of life. To register as a potential organ donor, visit http://donatelife.net/register-now/ today!
But there’s a lot of bullshit out there, especially in the way organ donation & transplantation is portrayed in your favorite medical dramas on TV. For example, Grey’s Anatomy. I start throwing things when I see doctors on TV screaming at a dead boy’s parents about how they have to donate their dead son’s organs right now, in order to save the life of a young girl, etc, etc, I just turn to Trine and say, “Well, we just lost another bunch of organ donors.” Sadly, many people believe what they see on TV. Right now, I am trying to say that when it comes to organ donation & transplantation, please DON’T.
Myth: I am too old to be a donor.
Fact: Anyone can be a potential donor regardless of age or race. Each potential donor is referred to the local organ recovery agency to evaluate if they are medically eligible to donate. Currently, patients with a history of malignancy, HIV, or Hepatitis B Surface Antigen are not eligible donors.
Myth: Only abdominal organs can be transplanted.
Fact: Transplantable organs include: Liver, Heart, Lungs, Kidneys, Pancreas, and Small Bowel. You can also donate tissues and bone marrow.
Myth: If I’m an organ donor, the doctors won’t work as hard to save me.
Fact: If you are sick or injured and admitted to the hospital, the number one priority is to save your life. Organ, eye and tissue donation can only be considered after you are deceased. No investigative or oversight agency has ever found evidence of poorer care in organ donors occurring. It is not standard procedure for the paramedics or emergency department doctors to look for a donor card. Though, they may steal your Dave and Buster’s card. A patient cannot be considered for organ donation if they don’t have a breathing tube in place and stabilized blood pressure.
Myth: Saying, “I’d like to donate my organ to her, if you know what I mean” is a hilarious and clever way of saying you’d like to have sex with a woman
Fact: Is it not.
Myth: They’ll take out my organs before I’m dead.
Fact: Donation is not offered to a family until a patient is dead by every clinical definition. “Brain death” is the medically, legally, and morally accepted determination of death. That means that there is no blood flow or oxygen to the brain. The brain is no longer functioning in any capacity and never will again, not unlike the audience at an average Oprah show taping. Two licensed physicians must make the diagnosis before the organ donation process can begin.
Fact: There are two types of cadaveric organ donation– donation after brain death and donation after cardiac death.
Brain death is defined as the complete and irreversible loss of all brain function including the brain stem. Donation after brain death is the classic model of organ donation and what most people think of.
Donation after cardiac death is offered to families after they have made the independent decision to withdrawal artificial support of their loved one. The patient is brought into the O.R., artificial support is withdrawn, and asystole ensues. Several minutes after asystole, the organs are recovered for transplantation. Asystole is a fancy-pants way of saying “the patient has flat lined.”
Myth: Rich and famous people get moved to the top of the waiting list.
Fact: When you are on the waiting list for an organ, what really counts is the severity of your illness, time spent waiting, blood type, and other important medical information. The system of allocation does not factor wealth or social status. Race, gender, age, income, or celebrity status is never considered when determining who receives an organ. Please note this does not apply those in Arizona. If you live in Arizona, and you need a transplant, and you are not rich, then you are screwed.
Myth: Criminals steal organs to sell on the black market.
Fact: It is illegal to sell an organ. It is possible to give a kidney, liver, or lung while living. However, as George Lopez’s wife is finding out, you can not ask for it back in the divorce. A doctor found performing a transplant of stolen or sold organs would have their medical license revoked. There are no documented cases of stolen organs and there is not a black market for organs in the United States. There is, however, an active market in other countries. So, if you have functioning organs, it’s best not to travel outside of the United States.
Myth: My religion doesn’t approve of organ donation and transplantation.
Fact: All major religions in the United States support organ, eye, and tissue donation and see it as the final act of love and generosity toward others. Also, some made-up religions do, too. May the Fonz be with you.
Myth: I want to have an open casket funeral, therefore I can’t be an organ donor.
Fact: An open casket funeral is possible for organ, eye, and tissue donors. Through the entire donation process the body is treated with care, respect, and dignity. Which is a nice change, considering people who are alive aren't always treated with care, respect, and dignity.
Myth: Organ donation will add to my hospital bill.
Fact: There is no cost to the donor or their family for organ or tissue donation. Sadly, I know someone who was told this for years by a friend, and it stopped them from being an organ donor for a very long time.
Fact: 18 people die every day waiting for the gift of life. To register as a potential organ donor, visit http://donatelife.net/register-now/ today!
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
My Thoughts on the Death of Osama bin Laden
Note: This blog is based on the assumption the Osama bin Laden is dead at the hands of the U.S. Military under the guidance of President Barack Obama this past week. If you believe bin Laden's been dead for years, or that there is some big conspiracy at hand, there's really no point in reading. I am one to question authority, and I do not blindly follow. But in this case, I have to have faith in the fact that what Obama has said is the truth, because believing otherswise would make my head explode. And I truly do not see the point in lying about either bin Laden being dead or when he was killed. It is an impeachable offense and I would be the first to speak out against President Obama if it came to light that had lied about the events of Sunday night.
Sunday night’s shocking announcement of the killing and capture (of the body) of Osama bin Laden has set off a fury of emotions, thoughts and theories. So I have decided to weigh in on some of the discussions that I have observed via the internet and news media.
First off, is it right, in this instance, to celebrate the death of another human being?
Generally, relishing in the murder of a man is not a becoming trait for anyone. I am not sure I can tell people the correct way to ”celebrate” Osama bin Laden’s death. I choose to celebrate in the abstract: a man who is responsible for the murder of thousands of Americans is no longer able to do harm. I am not naïve enough to think this brings any kind of end to terrorism, but it is a victory nevertheless. Perhaps it even brings closure to those who lost loved ones on 9/11. I did not lose anyone on 9/11, so I cannot rightfully tell a person who lost a wife/husband/son/daughter, etc not to celebrate that the man responsible for their loved one’s death is now dead. It has to be quite a cathartic feeling to know what it’s like to lose a loved one to murder, but to wish that kind of sadness of someone else. However, in emotional times like this, you can excuse someone who was directly victimized by bin Laden if they are happy that he’s dead. I mean, this guy was as evil as evil gets. True, his death does not change things a ton. It certainly doesn’t bring back those killed on 9/11, or those soldiers who have lost their lives over the past 10 years fighting for this country. Nor does it put an end to terrorism. It may, in fact, bring on retaliation and more terrorist acts. Time will tell. I know some have said they’d rather that we capture and imprison bin Laden, as that could be worse than death. Maybe true, but I personally do not think that this country should have to waste the resources making him comfortable, protected, and paying for his meals and medical care.
People are going to react to his death in different ways. The only reaction that I seriously question is that of a douche bag sports star coming to the defense of bin Laden. I think of those videos of American’s being be-headed and think, “Yeah, I guess we really should hear the terrorists’ side of the story.” Oh wait, that’s right: We have. Osama bin Laden openly stated he was the mastermind behind 9/11 and encouraged more killing of Americans. But I can see how you need some clarity, you moron. Shut the fuck up and go play your stupid football game. If someone wants the opinion of a complete jackass, we know where to find you.
Quick Aside: Thanks to the wonderful "comment" features on various articles, I've read people say that we (Americans) have brought on the wrath of the terrorists, and hatred by other countries, through our lifestyles, our screwed up values, priorities, arrogance, ignorance, etc. I will freely admit there are a lot of things and people that I do not like in this country. There are many negative things you can attribute to America and Americans. But I don't see how you can defend a person, or group, who use terror, violence, and murder to get their point across.
Secondly, Osama bin Laden was un-armed at the time of his death and capture.
In 99.9% of cases, I’d say that is distasteful. In this case, I can see both sides. Perhaps seeing the pics would silence some doubters. It may also shock and outrage, especially since sometimes death photos don’t always resemble how the person looked alive, which could always create more controversy. It could also inflame anti-American sentiments from the Islamic communities, and not only those who sided with bin Laden. DNA tests and pics of the body are not going to dissuade conspiracy theorists from thinking that bin Laden has been dead for a while now. There is no perfect decision. Releasing the photos, or not, will each have their own set of consequences. Perhaps it would be wise to leak the photo through a website or media outlet where people can seek it out if they want, instead of splatter it all over the papers? Perhaps release a version of the photo that shows his face, but is censored to limit the gore. Or maybe just release the photo un-doctored to hammer the point home that Osama Bin Laden is dead. Or don’t release it at all. I just don’t think there’s one right decision.
Note: This was written before Pres. Obama announced he will not be releasing the pictures. So there it is. It's a decision that will flame the fires of the conspiracy theorists and more anti-Obama sentiment. But would releasing the pictures do more good? I can't say. It was a tough decision and one that I am glad I did not have to make.
As with many of the issues surrounding Osama bin Laden’s death, there is no one way to handle things that will please everyone. I guess it just shocks me at how divided people seem over this issue. America is not a perfect nation, but it’s a damn good one, especially when compared to some of the terror and oppression that rule other countries. Bin Laden’s death was a victory for this country, regardless of who you want to credit for it, or if you celebrate his death, or celebrate simply the idea that a very evil man is no longer able to terrorize people. Yes, finally, 8 years after we were told “Mission Accomplished,” the mission actually was accomplished.
Sunday night’s shocking announcement of the killing and capture (of the body) of Osama bin Laden has set off a fury of emotions, thoughts and theories. So I have decided to weigh in on some of the discussions that I have observed via the internet and news media.
First off, is it right, in this instance, to celebrate the death of another human being?
Generally, relishing in the murder of a man is not a becoming trait for anyone. I am not sure I can tell people the correct way to ”celebrate” Osama bin Laden’s death. I choose to celebrate in the abstract: a man who is responsible for the murder of thousands of Americans is no longer able to do harm. I am not naïve enough to think this brings any kind of end to terrorism, but it is a victory nevertheless. Perhaps it even brings closure to those who lost loved ones on 9/11. I did not lose anyone on 9/11, so I cannot rightfully tell a person who lost a wife/husband/son/daughter, etc not to celebrate that the man responsible for their loved one’s death is now dead. It has to be quite a cathartic feeling to know what it’s like to lose a loved one to murder, but to wish that kind of sadness of someone else. However, in emotional times like this, you can excuse someone who was directly victimized by bin Laden if they are happy that he’s dead. I mean, this guy was as evil as evil gets. True, his death does not change things a ton. It certainly doesn’t bring back those killed on 9/11, or those soldiers who have lost their lives over the past 10 years fighting for this country. Nor does it put an end to terrorism. It may, in fact, bring on retaliation and more terrorist acts. Time will tell. I know some have said they’d rather that we capture and imprison bin Laden, as that could be worse than death. Maybe true, but I personally do not think that this country should have to waste the resources making him comfortable, protected, and paying for his meals and medical care.
People are going to react to his death in different ways. The only reaction that I seriously question is that of a douche bag sports star coming to the defense of bin Laden. I think of those videos of American’s being be-headed and think, “Yeah, I guess we really should hear the terrorists’ side of the story.” Oh wait, that’s right: We have. Osama bin Laden openly stated he was the mastermind behind 9/11 and encouraged more killing of Americans. But I can see how you need some clarity, you moron. Shut the fuck up and go play your stupid football game. If someone wants the opinion of a complete jackass, we know where to find you.
Quick Aside: Thanks to the wonderful "comment" features on various articles, I've read people say that we (Americans) have brought on the wrath of the terrorists, and hatred by other countries, through our lifestyles, our screwed up values, priorities, arrogance, ignorance, etc. I will freely admit there are a lot of things and people that I do not like in this country. There are many negative things you can attribute to America and Americans. But I don't see how you can defend a person, or group, who use terror, violence, and murder to get their point across.
Secondly, Osama bin Laden was un-armed at the time of his death and capture.
I've read some other people's blogs and thoughts regarding the idea that the U.S. didn't follow it's own laws, shooting an unarmed man, not giving bin Laden due process, his day in court, a run through the judicial system. I'm having a true battle of "reason" versus "yeah, but this terrorist fuck killed over 3,000 unarmed people and wouldn't hesitate for a second to kill any of us reading this at any time" and struggling to empathize with bin Laden for not getting his Miranda rights read to him. I know this is just another issue that will divide folks, but I just don't see any other way his apprehension could have ended.
Thirdly, it sickens me that there’s been so much debate about who deserves credit for Osama bin Laden’s death.
The Bush fan boys are throwing furniture in their apartments at the idea that President Obama is not crediting George W. for bin Laden’s capture. Get over it, and go cry in your Cheerios. For better or worse, George W. is not the president anymore. Love him or hate him, Barack Obama is the current president of the United States. He is in office, he is the current commander in chief, and therefore he was the one to rightfully address the nation regarding the killing of Osama bin Laden. This was a team effort between the Obama administration and the US military. Pres. Obama didn’t make the kill shot, a solider did. Perhaps that man needs to be credited. Or perhaps the American people should be credited for electing a man who had the balls to go after bin Laden for real. And just to point out, bin Laden apparently lived at Casa de bin Laden for 6 years. If my math is correct, George W. Bush was president 6 years ago. He had his chance.
And by the way, if George W. does deserve credit, does that mean if the Al Qaeda retaliate and commit a terrorist act, than I can blame George W? Because you can’t have it both ways.
I gotta say one of the more disturbing things that I read was that the terrorists who the U.S. water boarded deserved more credit than President Obama. These people were murderers and criminals. They did not divulge information out of the goodness of their heart. They did not have a change of heart while watching a Lifetime movie one night. They were tortured into providing information. Whether you agree with the use of water boarding is not the point. The idea that saying the terrorists deserve more credit than the president is appalling, and certainly not something you’d be saying if ole’ George Dub-yah was the one in office.
The capture and killing of Osama bin Laden should not be credited to any one person. Will Obama use this during his re-election campaign? Probably. And I am sure many will use this in considering whether or not to vote for him in 2012. What kind of impact will Osama’s death have on people’s overall assessment of Barack Obama as a president? I guess that remains to be seen. I am not trying to say that President Obama is the best president ever. I freely admit that a lot of the hope and positivity surrounding him during the election seems to have subsided, and many people have been wondering exactly what Obama has really accomplished during his time in office. He may not go down as the most effectual president in history, but this is a proud moment for him, and for America.
Finally, should the US military release pics of Osama bin Laden’s dead body?
Now, I admit, though I am not much of a conspiracy theorist, I did find it strange that even before some could fully wrap our brains around the death of bin Laden, he had been dumped at sea. I think this was out of respect for bin Laden’s religion, which dictates burial within 24 hours. I admit I was a little put off at the idea of paying this man any respect. I know some people are trying to say bin Laden’s been dead for years, and this was some sort of re-election tactic on behalf of President Obama. Do I know for a fact that is not true? No, but that would one hell of a conspiracy and awful way to lie to the American people (almost like lying about WMD's to justify a war). I cannot deny that I, like many, would like some proof, and a picture of the body seems to be it. So there’s been debate over releasing pics of bin Laden’s dead body.
In 99.9% of cases, I’d say that is distasteful. In this case, I can see both sides. Perhaps seeing the pics would silence some doubters. It may also shock and outrage, especially since sometimes death photos don’t always resemble how the person looked alive, which could always create more controversy. It could also inflame anti-American sentiments from the Islamic communities, and not only those who sided with bin Laden. DNA tests and pics of the body are not going to dissuade conspiracy theorists from thinking that bin Laden has been dead for a while now. There is no perfect decision. Releasing the photos, or not, will each have their own set of consequences. Perhaps it would be wise to leak the photo through a website or media outlet where people can seek it out if they want, instead of splatter it all over the papers? Perhaps release a version of the photo that shows his face, but is censored to limit the gore. Or maybe just release the photo un-doctored to hammer the point home that Osama Bin Laden is dead. Or don’t release it at all. I just don’t think there’s one right decision.
Note: This was written before Pres. Obama announced he will not be releasing the pictures. So there it is. It's a decision that will flame the fires of the conspiracy theorists and more anti-Obama sentiment. But would releasing the pictures do more good? I can't say. It was a tough decision and one that I am glad I did not have to make.
As with many of the issues surrounding Osama bin Laden’s death, there is no one way to handle things that will please everyone. I guess it just shocks me at how divided people seem over this issue. America is not a perfect nation, but it’s a damn good one, especially when compared to some of the terror and oppression that rule other countries. Bin Laden’s death was a victory for this country, regardless of who you want to credit for it, or if you celebrate his death, or celebrate simply the idea that a very evil man is no longer able to terrorize people. Yes, finally, 8 years after we were told “Mission Accomplished,” the mission actually was accomplished.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wasn't Obama Black Three Years Ago, Too?
Hey everyone, it's been a long time since I've written anything. Just coming by to weigh in on a bunch of crap that's contributing to my inevitable mental breakdown.
Wow, That’s Quite a Change
I heard this one the Biggest Loser the other night. A former contestant, once overweight and miserable, now thin and happy said, “I’ve changed my life 360 degrees.” Really? Well, you still suck at geometry. What she meant was that she changed her life 180 degrees, meaning the opposite of what it was. Saying you’ve made a 360 degree change basically says you’re right back to where you were before.
I heard this one the Biggest Loser the other night. A former contestant, once overweight and miserable, now thin and happy said, “I’ve changed my life 360 degrees.” Really? Well, you still suck at geometry. What she meant was that she changed her life 180 degrees, meaning the opposite of what it was. Saying you’ve made a 360 degree change basically says you’re right back to where you were before.
How Do We Prove Hawaii’s Not a State?
I am sure you are all aware that Obama produced a copy of his birth certificate this week so that these birther jackasses (and Donald Trump) can finally see that he was born in the United States, in Hawaii. Will this end the debate over his citizenship? Perhaps. Probably some of the more hardcore will try to find loopholes stating that Hawaii wasn’t technically a state when Obama was born. Others I am sure will keep digging and researching just trying to find the old photos with Obama and Osama Bin Laden playing cards or maybe with Obama at an Al Queda mixer. Others will simply move on. Ok, he’s a U.S citizen. But, uh-oh, he’s black. All things we’ve known for years that somehow are still an issue.
I am sure you are all aware that Obama produced a copy of his birth certificate this week so that these birther jackasses (and Donald Trump) can finally see that he was born in the United States, in Hawaii. Will this end the debate over his citizenship? Perhaps. Probably some of the more hardcore will try to find loopholes stating that Hawaii wasn’t technically a state when Obama was born. Others I am sure will keep digging and researching just trying to find the old photos with Obama and Osama Bin Laden playing cards or maybe with Obama at an Al Queda mixer. Others will simply move on. Ok, he’s a U.S citizen. But, uh-oh, he’s black. All things we’ve known for years that somehow are still an issue.
My neck feels a little stiff.
You know, when Obama was elected I had an inking of a thought that maybe, juuuuust maybe, we had progressed a tiny bit as a society. Ok, gays still can't marry most places, but maybe skin color didn’t matter quite as much as I thought. WRONG. We’ve moved on from thinking Obama could be a terrorist. Now, we’re focusing on something that is actually is: Black. Donald Trump, who may be considering a bid for president, is doing himself considerable damage by basically coming out and questioning if Obama’s grades were good enough, which is racist white guy code for "did he get in just because he was black?" (Or in the case of D. Trump, doesn't that frog faced, roadkill haired lunatic only get laid by hot models because he's rich?).
These same people probably never questioned if George Dub-yah only got into Yale because of his daddy. Seriously, you wanna critize Obama? Do it for his politics and policies. Not the color of skin. Idiots.
My head hurts.
On related, and almost as stupid, note, the wife of the doctor who delivered Obama (as in when he was born) has come forward. She said she is overwhelmed by the revelation. Aggggggghhhh. You know what overwhelms me? The fact that is fucking news!!! In a “no shit" moment, she said: "Physicians honor the confidentiality of their patients so he never said anything to me about this, and at that time, we had no way of knowing that President Obama was going to be president.” How in the hell would you ever remember one baby you delivered almost 50 years ago? "Oohh I got a feeling this one's gonna grow up to be the president."
Why is my nose bleeding?
What is this Royal Wedding You Speak Of?
Well, everyone, it’s almost that time. Wow, I can’t believe it. Only a few days away and then….nah, just kidding. I don’t give a half a shit about this. I only care so far as to say I can’t wait till it’s over. I do not, will not ever, understand the obsession with Prince Wiliam, Kate Middleton, Prince Harry, Prince Albert, etc. etc. I just don’t. Hey quick note to Kate Middleton: It won’t end well.
Well, everyone, it’s almost that time. Wow, I can’t believe it. Only a few days away and then….nah, just kidding. I don’t give a half a shit about this. I only care so far as to say I can’t wait till it’s over. I do not, will not ever, understand the obsession with Prince Wiliam, Kate Middleton, Prince Harry, Prince Albert, etc. etc. I just don’t. Hey quick note to Kate Middleton: It won’t end well.
I just went blind
Thank You, Bankers
When BP had the oil spill, killed a bunch of people and wildlife, and royally screwed the Gulf area up, they aired commercials of local folks defending BP and talking about how great BP was about financially helping out businesses affected by the oil spill. Why not do that with the housing crisis? Have some woman come on TV saying something like:
When BP had the oil spill, killed a bunch of people and wildlife, and royally screwed the Gulf area up, they aired commercials of local folks defending BP and talking about how great BP was about financially helping out businesses affected by the oil spill. Why not do that with the housing crisis? Have some woman come on TV saying something like:
“When the housing bubble burst, and people were thrown out of their homes because they could no longer afford enormous payments on the houses they had no business buying in the first place, I was able to get a foreclosure on a $600,000 house for only $23,000. Thank you, rich scumbag bankers, for making my dream come true.” I mean, when these banker assholes get out of jail, I oughta....oh, wait that's right.
Someone please call 911.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Not Feelin' it This Year....
Here we are 4 days from Christmas, and I've had some trouble feelin' the Christmas spirit this year.
Not sure why exactly. I have a lot to be cheerful about, namely that my beautiful wife is pregnant and next July we're going to have our first child. Pretty awesome.
I guess it's a combination of things, I think. The older I get I just realize how commercialized it's all become and how any real meaning has just gotten trampled on by 
the insane crowds at the malls, black Friday sales, people fighting over parking spaces to be 10 extra feet closer, and how the "season" begins earlier and earlier each year, which just translates to more shopping, spending and guilt. And when I say "real meaning", I take it as a time to get together with family and friends. It's like a reward for all the hard work over the year. That's what I really look forward to (aside from getting some time off from work!) I miss being a kid at Christmas. There was so much innocence and joy about it. Yes, as a kid, it certainly was about the gifts, but it was the one time of year that it seemed anything was possible! In addition, kids don't usually have the means to just buy whatever they want, whenever.
the insane crowds at the malls, black Friday sales, people fighting over parking spaces to be 10 extra feet closer, and how the "season" begins earlier and earlier each year, which just translates to more shopping, spending and guilt. And when I say "real meaning", I take it as a time to get together with family and friends. It's like a reward for all the hard work over the year. That's what I really look forward to (aside from getting some time off from work!) I miss being a kid at Christmas. There was so much innocence and joy about it. Yes, as a kid, it certainly was about the gifts, but it was the one time of year that it seemed anything was possible! In addition, kids don't usually have the means to just buy whatever they want, whenever. 
Usually.
The gifts have begun to mean less and less to me over the years. It's actually freeing to think of just spending time with family on Christmas, without gifts, without the hassles of shopping, without worrying about paying your credit card bill in January, and the feelings of guilt when someone gives you a gift and you haven't gotten anything for them. I bought stuff for my wife, of course, and the dogs, and I am looking forward to giving out gifts this year, more so than receiving anything. When I tell her to not get me anything, I actually mean it (even though know she's getting me stuff anyway). 
Living in south Florida, it's pretty easy to have the holiday season come and go without notice. A lot of people put lights up and other decorations, but it's still not the same as up north. I'd say this time of year is really the only time I miss the winter and the cold weather. Plus, the people down here don't exactly emote holiday cheer.
<-----"Merry Christmas, asshole! Give me your parking space NOW"
Christmas music has usually been a huge part of the Christmas season for me, too. I've enjoyed putting together my Christmas playlist, or trying to find wacky Christmas tunes, or cool rock versions or songs by bands I like. This year, I haven't bothered. I know Trine wants to have Christmas music for our drive to my mom's house, so I will have to put something together in the next couple days. Between taking care of Trine, the dogs, working and trying to keep the house in shape, it just hasn't been a priority.
Plus, a couple weeks before Thanksgiving, when I turned on South Florida's only modern rock station, all I heard was awful renditions of Christmas classics. Only then did I realize that the morning DJ I like (Bubba the Love Sponge!) was fired and the station was reformatted. Then I just got sad. It is now "easy listening," whatever that means. Believe me, there's nothing easy about listening to that shit.
This Christmas, what I really look forward to just spending time with Trine, the pups and my family; having dinner and talking about all the hopes for 2011, which for me, will include the birth of my first child (What, me daddy?) and hopefully beating Donkey Kong Country Returns & Super Mario Galaxy 2 for the Wii.
I think having a new baby will give me reason to be more cheerful next year.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Looking Back, Looking Forward: 2010
Happy New Year everyone!
(Clint Howard, for no particular reason)
Highlights of 2009
· Though Trine and I were married in December 2008, 2009 was our first year of marriage. On August 1, 2009, our episode of Wedding Day aired and it was amazing to see the show for the first time and relive our wedding with all of our friends and family, including those who could not attend. (Pictured: Trine, guitar god Yngwie Malmsteen, myself).· Trine was accepted in Florida International University’s inaugural class for the Herbert Wertheim College of Medicine. I am so proud of her. Sorry for the cliché, but she is truly following her dream. Ever since we met in late 2006, Trine’s dream was to attend medical school and be an amazing doctor. She has already accomplished the first part, and I know she will fulfill the second. Her compassion and intelligence are two of her greatest assets. Plus, she will be making mad cash! Woohoo! Daddy wants a recording studio!
· In September, Trine and I bought a house. It took six long months, and two lost houses, but we finally landed a nice 3/2 in west Broward County. It was bank owned property, but was left in decent condition. We have updated the appliances, repainted the walls and put a lot of hard work (along with loads of help from my mother and Bill). Our next goal is to turn the mess of a backyard they left us with into our own little paradise. This time next year, we hope to have a new lawn, stripper pole, refurbished grill and some nice outside furniture. We’ll keep you posted on the backyard BBQ’s. And the stripper pole. Wait...Trine said no stripper pole.
· My health has been great this year. I had a brief, minor rejection episode in March 2009, but that is about it. I am proud to have realized my goal of getting back to the gym and regaining my pre transplant physique and strength. I have rediscovered the dedication and drive to be successful in the gym. I am so happy to be able to workout again.
Me lift weights. Me drink protein shakes. Me strong. You weak like little girl.
· Lastly, but certainly not least, Trine and I made two additions to our family of puggles. We picked up Isabel (Izzy) in March 2009. She is our only female dog, and is a total nutcase. She is also the sweetest little daddy’s girl. In November 2009, we adopted Pudge, a five year old puggle whose family abandoned him after being foreclosed on. Pudge has some food and toy protection issues, but he just wants to be loved. It’s been an adjustment period for the all the dogs, but with time I think they will all get along fine. And we're done with dogs. Seriously. 
Looking Forward: 2010
I do not make resolutions. They come with a lot of pressure and leave little room for error, which is why they get broken so easily. Then people get discouraged or give up all together, and end up making the same resolutions the next year.
Instead, I make goals. My goals for 2010 include:
· Improving budgeting skills (lotto)
· Keep the house cleaner (french maid)
· Decrease anxiety/stress (drugs)
· Fix up the yard 
(arson)
· Beat Super Mario Bros. Wii (cheat)
· Continue writing music (boy band)
In February, as part of Wedding Day TV show, I will be on a 3 ½ day pass to Rock n’ Roll Fantasy Camp in Hollywood, CA where I will write, jam and perform with musicians and rock stars alike, such as Sammy Hagar, Kip Winger and Gary Hoey. I am hoping to meet Vince Neil of Motley Crue, too! My buddy Beau is gonna come along. When 2/3 of Radium Therapy get unleashed on Hollywood, craziness will ensue.
While, as I said, I do not make resolutions, I do view the New Year as a starting over period. I look forward to strengthening some of my weaknesses. Like many of you, I want to make 2010 a better year than 2009 was. Happy New Year everyone!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
I Mention Tiger Woods, but This Blog is not About Tiger Woods
“I need hot meat” – Old lady at Burger King, whose burger was given to her cold.
And as I stood there in Burger King somewhere along 1-75 waiting for my order, and trying to not to laugh on loud at the old woman, I wondered if there would come a time where an utterance like that would not be funny to me? Where I could pass the Walmart isle and see the packet of “cock flavored soup” and not laugh. (Seriously). One day would I declare, “I want hot meat between my buns” at Burger King, and not see anything dirty about it, the double entendre blissfully escaping me. At what age does that kind of stuff go over your head? Or maybe, there are those who are just better at hiding it. Some folks might fancy themselves above snickering at a dirty pun or the old meat loving lady. I am pretty positive I will never be that person. My mind is in the gutter about 90% of the time, and the other 10% of the time I am asleep.
The difference between the 29 year old me and the 10 year old me in this regard is I've learned the appropriate times to let the silly side of me out. A conference call at work is not the time to tell the latest raunchy joke, whereas a a get together with friends (or a blog, perhaps) is the perfect time to get rowdy, tell some off color jokes and remind yourself that's OK to laugh at silly shit. Maturity comes with being able to know when it's OK to be a little immature. There's nothing wrong with letting fun, ridiculous side of yourself out. There have been more than a few times where I have felt part of me is forgetting how to laugh and have fun with life. Growing up does not have to mean growing angry and bitter. So next time life's kicking your ass and you feel you're taking life too seriously, just remember, "I neet hot meat."
Nuts about Trucks!
Hey, so what’s the deal with fake testicles hangin’ off of trailer hitches on vehicles? I have seen these for years and each time I think so myself “Why?” What is the point of this? And why just the balls? Why not have the shaft hangin’ off the back of your truck? Or in your review mirror, that way you can see it. What about the front of the vehicle? How about a set of boobs stuck snugly to your grill...better yet, over your headlights. Isn’t “headlights” a slang for boobs anyway? Anyhow, I understand trailer hitches can be unsightly, but balls? seriously? I'd much rather look at a trailer hitch than fake metal saggy nuts. Neuter your trucks, folks.
Ok, time to be serious. World Hunger, the economy, education, war, health care reform, and puppies.
Now, that we’re over that.
Committed to Helping You Cheat
Have you seen these ads or heard the radio commercials for AshleyMadison.com? I know I should not be surprised at this kind of crap, but I was blown away. Basically, AshleyMadison.com is a dating website for married folks. It provides a safe online environment where those looking to have an affair can meet other spineless idiots who also wish to cheat on their spouses. Since Tiger Woods is getting dropped by many of his sponsors, perhaps AM.com can pick him up? It's a thought.
The douche bag who runs the site claims he does not advocate adultery, and is only providing a service. Since it is inevitable that people are going to cheat, why not provide a place for them to do it without all the hassle of office affairs, hookers, etc? I get where he is coming from. I am not naive. Fifty percent of marriages fail and adultery is an all-too common thing. (In fact, there are over 3.8 million members of this website. That is staggering!) However, their ads contradict that philosophy. Their ads specifically advocate cheating. “Life is short. Have an affair.” That has more of a ring to it than “If you’re going to do it, do it safely and discretely." The commercial depicts two good looking people wearing next to nothing, kissing and says something to the effect of “These people are married…..but not to each other.” The logo depicts a wedding ring as the “o” in “com”, which then falls flat. The only upside is that AshleyMadison.com is a pay site, which may detract casual philanderers. I guess if you’re going to use AshleyMadison.com, you have to be committed…to cheating.
The CEO is a married man with 2 kids. I can’t imagine the woman that stands behind a husband that openly advocates adultery and says that cheating is our DNA. Self esteem issue perhaps? He says that we put too much emphasis on sex/monogamy within the marriage. Try going home and presenting that argument to your wife as a reason for fooling around on her, fellas. I am sure she will be putting some emphasis on divorce papers. I'll bet when you're living in a one bedroom efficiency apartment sending her half your income each month, you'll wonder if it was worth it. I know some folks don’t believe in marriage, and think monogamy is not natural. So if you believe that, why get married in the first place? If you want a variety of partners, then don’t get married, or better yet, be a porn star. But please, don’t make this shitstain richer than he already is.
Anyhow, my next blog will be my look back at 2009 and hopes for 2010!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
New Blog (in progress)
Here's a fun equation for you: Jon & Kate + 8 - Jon = Kate + 8 - 8 - Kate = More time for shows about cake.
However, if you're a fan of reality shows about people with too many children, I read that Octomom is getting her own reality show. It will be called "Octomom + 14 – Personal Responsibility + California Tax Payer's Money.
I also want to make a shout out to my college buddy Jon Gosselin who, by coincidence, has the same name as Jon of "Jon + Kate", and has received hate mail from a confused Florida resident. While I sympathize, I gotta say, if Floridians are writing hate mail, at least they're not driving, and that's good for everyone!
Digital Cameras at a Steal!
Rental car company contracts come with the disclaimer that they are not responsible for items that are lost or stolen while the car is in your possession. What I failed to realize is that this apparently gives them a right to steal from you and hide behind their words. This happened to me a few months back when I rented a car. I left my digital camera in the back seat. The camera case was black, the interior was black and I was in a hurry. I admit error. However, about 30 minutes after dropping the car off, I realized my camera was gone.
I immediately called the rental company and was told that they found a camera matching my description and would be sending it to Boston where their Lost and Found is based. I was given the name of a woman who I was to contact and she would send my camera back to me once it arrived in Boston. The problem is that it never arrived. Upon follow up, I learned that she got some rinky dink disposable, but not my camera. I was told there was nothing they could do and they were not responsible for my lost camera. I am positive they found it and just kept it because they could. Unfortunately, I had to catch my flight and did not have the time go back and retrieve my camera. Even more unfortunately, my flight ended up being delayed for a couple hours and I could have easily gotten my camera had I known this ahead of time.
Next time you’re renting a car, please be careful. There is no guarantee you will get your item returned to you, even if they do have a lost and found department…especially if it is with Dollar Car Rental. Goddamn thieves.
The House
I own a house. My pups have a yard. I am building equity. I bought an 8' foot ladder. I have a lawnmower. I installed stainless steel hardware on my cabinets. I have a mortgage. I have to pay for water! I have been to Home Depot about 100 times in the last 3 weeks. I have primer on my hands right now. There are about 900 shades of beige exterior paints. A bedroom must have a closet in it to be considered a bedroom. I own hurricane shutters. I know what a backsplash is. I care about tiles. I watch HGTV. To be continued....
Rabies, baby!
I watched the movie Quarantine a couple months back and I was telling my buddy about it. He remarks, “Yeah, I saw it. It makes you really think twice about rabies.” So I wondered, twice? What was your first thought about rabies?
Before: Yeah, rabies are ok.
After: Oh wait. No.
However, if you're a fan of reality shows about people with too many children, I read that Octomom is getting her own reality show. It will be called "Octomom + 14 – Personal Responsibility + California Tax Payer's Money.
I also want to make a shout out to my college buddy Jon Gosselin who, by coincidence, has the same name as Jon of "Jon + Kate", and has received hate mail from a confused Florida resident. While I sympathize, I gotta say, if Floridians are writing hate mail, at least they're not driving, and that's good for everyone!
Digital Cameras at a Steal!
Rental car company contracts come with the disclaimer that they are not responsible for items that are lost or stolen while the car is in your possession. What I failed to realize is that this apparently gives them a right to steal from you and hide behind their words. This happened to me a few months back when I rented a car. I left my digital camera in the back seat. The camera case was black, the interior was black and I was in a hurry. I admit error. However, about 30 minutes after dropping the car off, I realized my camera was gone.
I immediately called the rental company and was told that they found a camera matching my description and would be sending it to Boston where their Lost and Found is based. I was given the name of a woman who I was to contact and she would send my camera back to me once it arrived in Boston. The problem is that it never arrived. Upon follow up, I learned that she got some rinky dink disposable, but not my camera. I was told there was nothing they could do and they were not responsible for my lost camera. I am positive they found it and just kept it because they could. Unfortunately, I had to catch my flight and did not have the time go back and retrieve my camera. Even more unfortunately, my flight ended up being delayed for a couple hours and I could have easily gotten my camera had I known this ahead of time.
Next time you’re renting a car, please be careful. There is no guarantee you will get your item returned to you, even if they do have a lost and found department…especially if it is with Dollar Car Rental. Goddamn thieves.
The House
I own a house. My pups have a yard. I am building equity. I bought an 8' foot ladder. I have a lawnmower. I installed stainless steel hardware on my cabinets. I have a mortgage. I have to pay for water! I have been to Home Depot about 100 times in the last 3 weeks. I have primer on my hands right now. There are about 900 shades of beige exterior paints. A bedroom must have a closet in it to be considered a bedroom. I own hurricane shutters. I know what a backsplash is. I care about tiles. I watch HGTV. To be continued....
Rabies, baby!
I watched the movie Quarantine a couple months back and I was telling my buddy about it. He remarks, “Yeah, I saw it. It makes you really think twice about rabies.” So I wondered, twice? What was your first thought about rabies?
Before: Yeah, rabies are ok.
After: Oh wait. No.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Letter to my Donor Family
I wrote this letter a few days ago and it is being sent to the donor family via the agency that procured the liver that was transplanted. I do not know my donor family or the donor, other than it was a 19 year old local male. Perhaps the family will respond to my letter and I can learn more about my donor, or perhaps not. I just felt it was important to finally reach out and thank the family.
Dear Donor Family,
My name is Ryan. I am a 28 year old man and the recipient of your son’s liver. I am writing to thank you for making an impossible choice during what has to be one of the hardest moments of your life. I want to thank you so much for making that decision. While I was struggling with my own pain, my own fight to live, you selflessly chose to donate your son’s organs, and it’s hard to express how much good you brought to the world by that decision, not only for me, but for the others who benefited.
I was born with a rare liver disorder called Biliary Atresia. I was treated as an infant and went on to have almost 27 years of great health. In 2007, I began showing symptoms of secondary biliary cirrhosis, including jaundice (yellowing of skin and eyes) itching, fatigue, recurrent infections with fevers, inability to digest many foods, and more. By December, I was on the waiting list for a transplant. I waited for six months and consider myself very fortunate. Many people do not get the transplants they need and die waiting.
Your gift allowed me to not only have my health back, but get my life back. Since the transplant, I have married and bought a house. (My wife is also a transplant recipient.) I realize none of those things would have been possible if not for you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity. Believe me when I say that I never, ever lost sight of how difficult this must have been for you. I have never lost someone so close to me and cannot imagine the grief you felt. Now, over a year later, I am sure that the pain is still fresh. Through your gift, something positive came out of all the sadness.
My promise to you is that I will not take this second chance for granted. I do not drink alcohol or do drugs. I feel a responsibility to you, your son and all those who were devastated with the loss, to not squander the opportunity that I have been given. You are certainly not obligated to write me back, but I think of your family often, even though I do not know you. Please know that even if I never hear from you, I will never forget what you have done for me.
Sincerely,
Ryan
Dear Donor Family,
My name is Ryan. I am a 28 year old man and the recipient of your son’s liver. I am writing to thank you for making an impossible choice during what has to be one of the hardest moments of your life. I want to thank you so much for making that decision. While I was struggling with my own pain, my own fight to live, you selflessly chose to donate your son’s organs, and it’s hard to express how much good you brought to the world by that decision, not only for me, but for the others who benefited.
I was born with a rare liver disorder called Biliary Atresia. I was treated as an infant and went on to have almost 27 years of great health. In 2007, I began showing symptoms of secondary biliary cirrhosis, including jaundice (yellowing of skin and eyes) itching, fatigue, recurrent infections with fevers, inability to digest many foods, and more. By December, I was on the waiting list for a transplant. I waited for six months and consider myself very fortunate. Many people do not get the transplants they need and die waiting.
Your gift allowed me to not only have my health back, but get my life back. Since the transplant, I have married and bought a house. (My wife is also a transplant recipient.) I realize none of those things would have been possible if not for you. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity. Believe me when I say that I never, ever lost sight of how difficult this must have been for you. I have never lost someone so close to me and cannot imagine the grief you felt. Now, over a year later, I am sure that the pain is still fresh. Through your gift, something positive came out of all the sadness.
My promise to you is that I will not take this second chance for granted. I do not drink alcohol or do drugs. I feel a responsibility to you, your son and all those who were devastated with the loss, to not squander the opportunity that I have been given. You are certainly not obligated to write me back, but I think of your family often, even though I do not know you. Please know that even if I never hear from you, I will never forget what you have done for me.
Sincerely,
Ryan
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Transplant Blog Part 4: My Second Surgery (October 2008)
At the end of October, and just days after a good friend of mine had a full on seizure in my living room, I was back in the hospital for another Cholangiogram. My labs over the past few weeks had shown in increase in my key liver enzymes, which meant possible blockages. They had already done another liver biopsy, ruled out rejection and given me a dose of steroids for good measure. The Cholangiogram went fine, though it did show blockages, which the doctors relieved through ballooning the bile ducts as usual. After each cholangiogram, it is standard to be monitored for an additional two hours. For me, this was usually an uneventful two hours. However, this time, my temperature spiked, tremors came over me, and I began to vomit. I think I remember asking, "what the hell did they do to me?"
I was admitted to the hospital, submitted blood work, and waited for the doctor's conclusion. The next day, a Tuesday, Dr. Tzakis informed me that he was going to surgically fix my bile ducts, since simply ballooning them was not working. This surgery would take place the next day. I was nervous, a little upset about having my nicely healed incision cut open a second time, but all around optimistic that this surgery, which was minor and the doctors could do in their sleep, would put an end to waking up in the middle of the night with fevers, sweats and stomach pains. My state of mind was much improved over my last hospital stay.
It is interesting to hear Trine's viewpoint regarding this last surgery. She was terrified that this surgery would be like my original Kasai procedure when I was a baby in that it would be a temporary fix and a bridge to a second liver transplant. She asked the doctor point blank what my chances were, post op, and he was confident that it would work out just fine.
The surgery went well, and they removed a lot of scar tissue from around my bile ducts, which is said to be the cause of the strictures. Even my aforementioned hepatic artery (see Part 3) had good flow, so the scar tissue may have been responsible for that was well. I was incredibly sore and the pain associated with recovery seemed more intense and vivid than with my transplant. They gave me morphine, which caused me to vomit and did not do much for the pain. So, I was reacquainted with my good friend, dilaudid, but only for a few days until his well meaning, but annoying cousin percocet showed up. Soon, I was all but off pain meds.
Walking is one thing the docs always bugged me about after abdominal surgery. It was imperative that I get out of bed and walk around to heal, prevent sores, and it is good for mental health as well. They also ask a lot about farting. Seriously. They needed to make sure that my bowels were in check so every once in a while a doc would pop in and ask the status of my ass. I had not eaten for almost five days, so I did not exactly have a whole lot of fuel to burn. By the end of the week, I was walking laps around the Transplant floor and farting away. Life was good…until—actually, it's still pretty good.
Life has been nice since the surgery, with a few minor hiccups. My liver enzymes peaked a bit so the docs put me on a higher dose of anti-rejection medication and reinstated the steroid. The anti-rejection meds were causing major stomach irritation for a while, so I had to make some adjustments regarding the acid reducing medication I was on, but otherwise, it's all good.
I am seven months post transplant.
I was admitted to the hospital, submitted blood work, and waited for the doctor's conclusion. The next day, a Tuesday, Dr. Tzakis informed me that he was going to surgically fix my bile ducts, since simply ballooning them was not working. This surgery would take place the next day. I was nervous, a little upset about having my nicely healed incision cut open a second time, but all around optimistic that this surgery, which was minor and the doctors could do in their sleep, would put an end to waking up in the middle of the night with fevers, sweats and stomach pains. My state of mind was much improved over my last hospital stay.
It is interesting to hear Trine's viewpoint regarding this last surgery. She was terrified that this surgery would be like my original Kasai procedure when I was a baby in that it would be a temporary fix and a bridge to a second liver transplant. She asked the doctor point blank what my chances were, post op, and he was confident that it would work out just fine.
The surgery went well, and they removed a lot of scar tissue from around my bile ducts, which is said to be the cause of the strictures. Even my aforementioned hepatic artery (see Part 3) had good flow, so the scar tissue may have been responsible for that was well. I was incredibly sore and the pain associated with recovery seemed more intense and vivid than with my transplant. They gave me morphine, which caused me to vomit and did not do much for the pain. So, I was reacquainted with my good friend, dilaudid, but only for a few days until his well meaning, but annoying cousin percocet showed up. Soon, I was all but off pain meds.
Walking is one thing the docs always bugged me about after abdominal surgery. It was imperative that I get out of bed and walk around to heal, prevent sores, and it is good for mental health as well. They also ask a lot about farting. Seriously. They needed to make sure that my bowels were in check so every once in a while a doc would pop in and ask the status of my ass. I had not eaten for almost five days, so I did not exactly have a whole lot of fuel to burn. By the end of the week, I was walking laps around the Transplant floor and farting away. Life was good…until—actually, it's still pretty good.
Life has been nice since the surgery, with a few minor hiccups. My liver enzymes peaked a bit so the docs put me on a higher dose of anti-rejection medication and reinstated the steroid. The anti-rejection meds were causing major stomach irritation for a while, so I had to make some adjustments regarding the acid reducing medication I was on, but otherwise, it's all good.
I am seven months post transplant.
Transplant Blog Part 3: 30 Days at Jackson
In July, I decided to attend my friend Derek's wedding. He was one of 5 friends who were married this year and his wedding was the only one that I was able to attend. I flew to Connecticut, even though I had just began experiencing stomach pains and did not know what to attribute them to. I fought threw the stomach aches and actually managed to have a great time at Derek's wedding.
That Sunday, I flew to Pittsburgh to join Trine, who was participating as an athlete in the Transplant Games. As soon as I arrived, things began to seriously go downhill. I began spiking high fevers at night and waking up with profuse sweating. During the day, my stomach was settled enough for me to enjoy the events, though I was beginning to take on a slight yellow tinge again. We were scheduled to leave on Wednesday evening, but I could not wait that long. My stomach was killing me, my temperature was soaring and I knew something was terribly wrong, though I was not sure exactly what. A couple we met at the Games was kind enough to change our flights so that Trine and I could fly home to Miami together, and from there we went straight to Jackson Memorial Hospital, despite my fever breaking on the trip home.
When I arrived, my health got worse. I was still getting fevers every night, despite the antibiotics. I had almost daily ultrasounds and through these we got the news that one of my hepatic arteries had collapsed and there was next to no flow through it. The doctor said there were a few possible ways things could play out: 1) the other arteries would pick up the slack, 2) surgery would needed to repair the down artery or (and this is what really took it's toll on my mental health during this stay) 3) I would have to be re- transplanted or possibly die. Oops.
The idea of being re-transplanted began to eat away at my mental stability. The thought of having to repeat all the necessary tests to be placed back on the transplant list was overwhelming, not to mention the waiting. I began to withdraw from friends and family. I would avoid taking phone calls because either nothing was changing or things had gotten worse, and I was tired of telling everyone that. I cut way back on eating and drinking and did not get out of bed and walk nearly enough. The few times I did, it was after heavy cajoling by Trine or my mother. The doctors suggested some psychiatric help, including medication, and I consulted with Trine and my family, but concluded that adding more medication to the mix was not a good idea and I could tough this out. Eventually, my mental health would improve, but that wouldn't be until weeks after my release.
The Infectious Diseases doctors began to brainstorm what could be causing my symptoms. They did a battery of tests and concluded that I may have a rare disease caused by tick bites, and they backed this theory up with my recent visit to Connecticut. I never for a second believed that they were on the right track. I had lived in Connecticut for 26 years and never once was bitten by a tick. The blood tests were not supporting their theories, either, though they did reveal bacteria in my blood. This theory was later dismissed.
The cause of my illness turned out to be very simple: Cholangitis, or strictures in the bile ducts, which limited the flow of bile and caused back up. It was the same issue that I had been having for over a year, on and off. Once the doctors began treating me for Cholangitis, then things improved quickly. I went to Radiology and they preformed a minor procedure called a Cholangiogram. They injected dye into my abdomen to visualize the path of flow and then ballooned the bile ducts so that the bile would be able to flow freely. I was sent home with a long catheter sticking out of my abdomen attached to a bag to catch the excess bile drainage. It was not pretty, but it was necessary, and effective. I also had a follow up appointment to get another Cholangiogram. I ended up having weekly Cholangiograms and the catheter for about 5 weeks.
I was in the hospital for a month…from July 16 through August 14. I watched Michael Phelps win 8 gold medals, Manny Ramirez leave the Red Sox for the LA Dodgers and the Dark Knight blow up at the box office. I was released on August 14 around 8:30pm and the first thing Trine and I did was grab some frozen yogurt and go see the 10:15 showing of The Dark Knight. Surely, this would be the end of the insanity and I could finally begin to enjoy my new liver and get back to good health. Close, but not quite.
That Sunday, I flew to Pittsburgh to join Trine, who was participating as an athlete in the Transplant Games. As soon as I arrived, things began to seriously go downhill. I began spiking high fevers at night and waking up with profuse sweating. During the day, my stomach was settled enough for me to enjoy the events, though I was beginning to take on a slight yellow tinge again. We were scheduled to leave on Wednesday evening, but I could not wait that long. My stomach was killing me, my temperature was soaring and I knew something was terribly wrong, though I was not sure exactly what. A couple we met at the Games was kind enough to change our flights so that Trine and I could fly home to Miami together, and from there we went straight to Jackson Memorial Hospital, despite my fever breaking on the trip home.
When I arrived, my health got worse. I was still getting fevers every night, despite the antibiotics. I had almost daily ultrasounds and through these we got the news that one of my hepatic arteries had collapsed and there was next to no flow through it. The doctor said there were a few possible ways things could play out: 1) the other arteries would pick up the slack, 2) surgery would needed to repair the down artery or (and this is what really took it's toll on my mental health during this stay) 3) I would have to be re- transplanted or possibly die. Oops.
The idea of being re-transplanted began to eat away at my mental stability. The thought of having to repeat all the necessary tests to be placed back on the transplant list was overwhelming, not to mention the waiting. I began to withdraw from friends and family. I would avoid taking phone calls because either nothing was changing or things had gotten worse, and I was tired of telling everyone that. I cut way back on eating and drinking and did not get out of bed and walk nearly enough. The few times I did, it was after heavy cajoling by Trine or my mother. The doctors suggested some psychiatric help, including medication, and I consulted with Trine and my family, but concluded that adding more medication to the mix was not a good idea and I could tough this out. Eventually, my mental health would improve, but that wouldn't be until weeks after my release.
The Infectious Diseases doctors began to brainstorm what could be causing my symptoms. They did a battery of tests and concluded that I may have a rare disease caused by tick bites, and they backed this theory up with my recent visit to Connecticut. I never for a second believed that they were on the right track. I had lived in Connecticut for 26 years and never once was bitten by a tick. The blood tests were not supporting their theories, either, though they did reveal bacteria in my blood. This theory was later dismissed.
The cause of my illness turned out to be very simple: Cholangitis, or strictures in the bile ducts, which limited the flow of bile and caused back up. It was the same issue that I had been having for over a year, on and off. Once the doctors began treating me for Cholangitis, then things improved quickly. I went to Radiology and they preformed a minor procedure called a Cholangiogram. They injected dye into my abdomen to visualize the path of flow and then ballooned the bile ducts so that the bile would be able to flow freely. I was sent home with a long catheter sticking out of my abdomen attached to a bag to catch the excess bile drainage. It was not pretty, but it was necessary, and effective. I also had a follow up appointment to get another Cholangiogram. I ended up having weekly Cholangiograms and the catheter for about 5 weeks.
I was in the hospital for a month…from July 16 through August 14. I watched Michael Phelps win 8 gold medals, Manny Ramirez leave the Red Sox for the LA Dodgers and the Dark Knight blow up at the box office. I was released on August 14 around 8:30pm and the first thing Trine and I did was grab some frozen yogurt and go see the 10:15 showing of The Dark Knight. Surely, this would be the end of the insanity and I could finally begin to enjoy my new liver and get back to good health. Close, but not quite.
Looking Back, Looking Forward: New Year's Eve 2009
Today is December 31, 2008. This is my bittersweet goodbye to a year that has changed my life forever. I spent a good portion of 2008 (just about 10 months) either sick, in the hospital, or at home recovering from surgery, my head swimming in a mix of pain medication and uncertainty. I got my liver transplant, my new chance at a healthy life, only to have severe rejection, ongoing bile duct issues, fevers, vomiting, and finally a second surgery which seems to have quieted the chaos. All told, I spent over two months in the hospital. Before I was transplanted, I was months away from dying from liver failure, much sicker than my seemingly healthy exterior belied.
In February, weeks after being released from my first hospital stay of 2008, and during a period of relative health, I proposed to girlfriend, Trine, on the beach in Miami. It was sunset proposal without any sun (oops…sun doesn't set over here) and stubborn candles that refused to stay lit, but amidst the warm breeze and palm tree dotted white sand, Trine said she would be my wife. We celebrated on the beach with music and a bottle of sparkling cider.
Now the hard part: planning a wedding. Then the harder part: paying for it. Our saving grace was a casting call for a new reality show that was looking for a couple tied to organ donation & transplantation that were deserving of their dream wedding. I was in the hospital when we first heard about this contest. Trine convinced me to suck it up, put off pain medication for a few hours, and make a couple videos talking about why WE should be that deserving couple. You would think that me just being in the hospital, sick and bordering on depression, would make us a natural pick, but ironically, the show wanted to be sure that my health would NOT be an issue and prevent us from getting married should we actually get picked. It was a long shot, and I'd be lying if I said that I was excited about making the videos in the condition I was in, but I knew that I would regret not giving it a try. So I tried to look as healthy as possible and we made a series of videos. Little known fact: Trine totaled her car trying to get our video to Fed Ex by 5 p.m. (not her fault).
So we made our videos, including an update a few weeks later once I was released from the hospital, just to assure the casting director that I was in tip-top shape should we be the lucky couple. Then….nothing. A few months went by with no word.
In October (just shortly after my second surgery), we got a call from the producers of Wedding Day, the new reality show from TNT. We were one of the top 3 couples in line to win a dream wedding! We spent hours filling out surveys and questionnaires, speaking on the phone, making our guest list, and contacting our friends and family about our 33% chance of getting picked to be married on national television. Sometimes, we were really positive about our chances, while other times the producer would use the word "if" and we would get discouraged and wonder if something this good could happen to us.
In mid-December, we got the news! We had won our dream wedding!!! Trine and I embraced, and shed a few tears of happiness. Then….well, I cannot really divulge much else due to confidentiality agreements. I would love to post pictures and give all the amazing details of the week leading up to our incredible wedding, I cannot do so until our show airs in summer 2009. Those who were attendance know what a great time the wedding was. Mr. and Mrs. Ryan and Trine Labbe cannot wait for all our episode to air so we can relive the experience. I would also like to thank all our friends and family who worked their asses off to make our wedding happen.
Liver Transplant
In May 2008, I received the gift of life from an unknown donor. Throughout the past seven months it has been a lot easier to focus on my health issues than to sit and really think about how I came to receive my transplant. Unfortunately, a young man had to die. I know very little about my donor, as is standard. All I know is it was a local man whose family made a tough decision in the face of their tragedy. I want to take this opportunity to thank them, even though we do not know each other. Perhaps one day we will know each other and I can thank them in person, like Trine got the opportunity to do with her donor family earlier this year. Her donor sister, Keisha, was a bridesmaid in our wedding. For now, as cheesy as it sounds, I feel as if I owe it to my donor family to make a good life for myself, a life that I would not have if it were not for their generosity. I need to show them, and myself, that their son's death was not in vain.
Please read my Transplant blogs (parts 1 through 4) for my account of the past year and half.
Wilson
One day, while at the dog park with our puggle Niles, Trine and I got to talking about how happy Niles would be if he had a friend to play with all the time. He was so good with other dogs, and we knew that having another dog would give Niles a regular outlet for his energy, alongside our daily walks and trips to the dog park . "I would not get another puggle," Trine said. So, Trine got online and began looking for medium sized dogs, perhaps a Boston Terrier. I heard an "awww" from the other room and saw the face of a tiny little puggle on the computer screen. We both agreed he was adorable and still available for purchase. We scooped up Niles and headed to the pet store with the outward intention of "just looking" but we both knew that this dog was ours, assuming he hit it off with Niles.
When we got to the pet store, the puggle was there waiting for us. We had the clerk put us all in a little play area and the little puggle, who we named Wilson per our discussion in the car, began wagging his curly little tail and licking my face. Niles gave little Wilson kisses and then tried to mount him. Wilson snapped and barked at him. Niles would not trying mounting Wilson again for months. Little Wilson did not take any crap from Niles, but the two got along great. We took Wilson home and welcomed him into our family. Today, the two dogs wrestle constantly, make a lot of noise, eat at our carpets sometimes and chew the crap out of any stuffed toys they get their paws on. But they are the greatest dogs and I love them very much.
Goals for 2009
I have high hopes for the coming year. I just joined a gym, have worked out twice, but know that to accomplish my goals and get back in the shape I was two years ago, it is going to take a lot of work, and certainly more than going to the gym a couple times a month.
My music has suffered throughout the year, as well. Before I moved to Miami, I had played my first two solo acoustic shows and it was thrilling. In 2009, I aim to get back to writing, recording, and playing music.
Being out on disability was hard on all fronts, including financial. In 2009, I aim to improve my money management skills and chip away my credit card debt. I also aim to borrow more money than I need from a major money lending institution, with no real means to pay it back, and send our economy into a downward spiral hahaha…wait…oh, right.
I am a husband now, and though Trine and I do not have children, we consider our dogs part of the family. Trine's dream to go to medical school may be realized very soon and it will be a happy, yet challenging part of our lives. In my vows to her, I promised to help her "shoulder our challenges" and will do that. I want our first year of marriage to be amazing. We've already outlasted Britney Spears' first marriage and, in just three days, we will have outlasted Eddie Murphy's recent nuptials.
Now, I have a new wife, new puppy, new liver and finally…a new year. Here's to hoping 2009 holds all the joy of 2008 with none of the pain, hospitalizations or Sarah Palin.
In February, weeks after being released from my first hospital stay of 2008, and during a period of relative health, I proposed to girlfriend, Trine, on the beach in Miami. It was sunset proposal without any sun (oops…sun doesn't set over here) and stubborn candles that refused to stay lit, but amidst the warm breeze and palm tree dotted white sand, Trine said she would be my wife. We celebrated on the beach with music and a bottle of sparkling cider.
Now the hard part: planning a wedding. Then the harder part: paying for it. Our saving grace was a casting call for a new reality show that was looking for a couple tied to organ donation & transplantation that were deserving of their dream wedding. I was in the hospital when we first heard about this contest. Trine convinced me to suck it up, put off pain medication for a few hours, and make a couple videos talking about why WE should be that deserving couple. You would think that me just being in the hospital, sick and bordering on depression, would make us a natural pick, but ironically, the show wanted to be sure that my health would NOT be an issue and prevent us from getting married should we actually get picked. It was a long shot, and I'd be lying if I said that I was excited about making the videos in the condition I was in, but I knew that I would regret not giving it a try. So I tried to look as healthy as possible and we made a series of videos. Little known fact: Trine totaled her car trying to get our video to Fed Ex by 5 p.m. (not her fault).
So we made our videos, including an update a few weeks later once I was released from the hospital, just to assure the casting director that I was in tip-top shape should we be the lucky couple. Then….nothing. A few months went by with no word.
In October (just shortly after my second surgery), we got a call from the producers of Wedding Day, the new reality show from TNT. We were one of the top 3 couples in line to win a dream wedding! We spent hours filling out surveys and questionnaires, speaking on the phone, making our guest list, and contacting our friends and family about our 33% chance of getting picked to be married on national television. Sometimes, we were really positive about our chances, while other times the producer would use the word "if" and we would get discouraged and wonder if something this good could happen to us.
In mid-December, we got the news! We had won our dream wedding!!! Trine and I embraced, and shed a few tears of happiness. Then….well, I cannot really divulge much else due to confidentiality agreements. I would love to post pictures and give all the amazing details of the week leading up to our incredible wedding, I cannot do so until our show airs in summer 2009. Those who were attendance know what a great time the wedding was. Mr. and Mrs. Ryan and Trine Labbe cannot wait for all our episode to air so we can relive the experience. I would also like to thank all our friends and family who worked their asses off to make our wedding happen.
Liver Transplant
In May 2008, I received the gift of life from an unknown donor. Throughout the past seven months it has been a lot easier to focus on my health issues than to sit and really think about how I came to receive my transplant. Unfortunately, a young man had to die. I know very little about my donor, as is standard. All I know is it was a local man whose family made a tough decision in the face of their tragedy. I want to take this opportunity to thank them, even though we do not know each other. Perhaps one day we will know each other and I can thank them in person, like Trine got the opportunity to do with her donor family earlier this year. Her donor sister, Keisha, was a bridesmaid in our wedding. For now, as cheesy as it sounds, I feel as if I owe it to my donor family to make a good life for myself, a life that I would not have if it were not for their generosity. I need to show them, and myself, that their son's death was not in vain.
Please read my Transplant blogs (parts 1 through 4) for my account of the past year and half.
Wilson
One day, while at the dog park with our puggle Niles, Trine and I got to talking about how happy Niles would be if he had a friend to play with all the time. He was so good with other dogs, and we knew that having another dog would give Niles a regular outlet for his energy, alongside our daily walks and trips to the dog park . "I would not get another puggle," Trine said. So, Trine got online and began looking for medium sized dogs, perhaps a Boston Terrier. I heard an "awww" from the other room and saw the face of a tiny little puggle on the computer screen. We both agreed he was adorable and still available for purchase. We scooped up Niles and headed to the pet store with the outward intention of "just looking" but we both knew that this dog was ours, assuming he hit it off with Niles.
When we got to the pet store, the puggle was there waiting for us. We had the clerk put us all in a little play area and the little puggle, who we named Wilson per our discussion in the car, began wagging his curly little tail and licking my face. Niles gave little Wilson kisses and then tried to mount him. Wilson snapped and barked at him. Niles would not trying mounting Wilson again for months. Little Wilson did not take any crap from Niles, but the two got along great. We took Wilson home and welcomed him into our family. Today, the two dogs wrestle constantly, make a lot of noise, eat at our carpets sometimes and chew the crap out of any stuffed toys they get their paws on. But they are the greatest dogs and I love them very much.
Goals for 2009
I have high hopes for the coming year. I just joined a gym, have worked out twice, but know that to accomplish my goals and get back in the shape I was two years ago, it is going to take a lot of work, and certainly more than going to the gym a couple times a month.
My music has suffered throughout the year, as well. Before I moved to Miami, I had played my first two solo acoustic shows and it was thrilling. In 2009, I aim to get back to writing, recording, and playing music.
Being out on disability was hard on all fronts, including financial. In 2009, I aim to improve my money management skills and chip away my credit card debt. I also aim to borrow more money than I need from a major money lending institution, with no real means to pay it back, and send our economy into a downward spiral hahaha…wait…oh, right.
I am a husband now, and though Trine and I do not have children, we consider our dogs part of the family. Trine's dream to go to medical school may be realized very soon and it will be a happy, yet challenging part of our lives. In my vows to her, I promised to help her "shoulder our challenges" and will do that. I want our first year of marriage to be amazing. We've already outlasted Britney Spears' first marriage and, in just three days, we will have outlasted Eddie Murphy's recent nuptials.
Now, I have a new wife, new puppy, new liver and finally…a new year. Here's to hoping 2009 holds all the joy of 2008 with none of the pain, hospitalizations or Sarah Palin.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Cell phone or Vibrator?
Hey all,
Is it just me or are cell phone names sounding a little dirtier these days. Perhaps it is just my mind being half in the gutter at any given time, but I can't help chuckle when I see cell phone commercials days. I mean, it is no secret that cell phone companies fuck you...So, please play my little game below.
CELL PHONE? OR VIBRATOR?
Glyde
Dare
Blue Dolpin
Misty
Curve
Sea Horse
Instinct
Pearl
Rabbit
Anal Slider (ok, this one's a free bee)
Touch
Duo
Happy chatting!
Is it just me or are cell phone names sounding a little dirtier these days. Perhaps it is just my mind being half in the gutter at any given time, but I can't help chuckle when I see cell phone commercials days. I mean, it is no secret that cell phone companies fuck you...So, please play my little game below.
CELL PHONE? OR VIBRATOR?
Glyde
Dare
Blue Dolpin
Misty
Curve
Sea Horse
Instinct
Pearl
Rabbit
Anal Slider (ok, this one's a free bee)
Touch
Duo
Happy chatting!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Liver Transplant 2008: Part 2: Rejection Blues!
Rejection Blues! (May 29, 2008 to July 13, 2008)
To provide a little perspective, in 1984, my fiancee Trine was transplanted and was released from the hospital in Pittsburgh three months later. I was transplanted in May of 2008 and was released in three days. That was not a record, but close to it. Also, I was released with the least amount of medication that the nurse had ever seen. I thought that maybe I would pull through this liver transplant as easily as the doctors had predicted. Wrong.
My first night at home was incredibly rough. It was near impossible to find a comfortable position to sit or lay in. The closest I got to acceptable comfort was reclining back on our sofa. Because the muscles in my abdomen were shredded due to the surgery, my back had to pick up a lot of slack. Because of that, the pain in my back was pretty intense during those first few weeks following my transplant. The first night home, I slept four hours, had horrible nightmares, awoke frequently covered in sweat and kept Trine up a good portion of the night with my moans of pain and discomfort. Admittedly, I do not deal with pain very well and can be, for lack of a better word, whiny.
Upon taking my temperature, I confirmed that I had a fever. I was prescribed an antibiotic and told to contact my transplant coordinator if things did not improve. The next night was better, but that was not saying much. Just a day and a half later, on Thursday, I was rushed to the ER with a temperature of 104 degrees. Jackson Hospital is a fine facility and their transplant program is amazing; however, if you have ever had to go to their ER….I am sorry. It is awful. There I was, on a gurney, in a three feet (maybe) wide space, breathing 104 degree air back onto my face because I still had to wear a protective mask at that point. Finally, they drew blood, had me piss into a cup and rushed me off to get an ultrasound.
I was rushed to my ultrasound by one of the most obnoxious nurses I have encountered yet. First off, she bossed Trine around. Secondly, she tapped my stomach and incision fairly hard before even asking what I was in the hospital for. Lastly, she preached at me. It is no secret that I am not keen on having people talk religion at me, but if ever there was a worse time. She told me that some guy was hosting a healing retreat somewhere in central Florida and "there was a whole lot of healing going on" and I should go. My first thought was that if having money in my wallet was considered an illness, I am sure he would heal me very quickly. Then I thought about how my transplant surgeons would feel about me opting for some quack healing ceremony versus life saving surgery. I am not trying to shit on anyone’s beliefs, but I could not think of a more inappropriate time to be pushing her views on me. Plus, the hospital had not even let me take my anti-rejection meds and I was due over an hour ago. Needless to say, I was in a foul mood.
Later that night, things began to improve. The fever broke and I was given a bolus of steroids that made me feel a lot better. However, it was also made everything I ate or drank that night taste like metal. Nasty. I was treated for a mild case of rejection. When Dr. Tzakis came in, he spoke of the possibility of another surgery if it turned out o be my bile ducts that were the issue. Thankfully, no such surgery was necessary. I was released on Saturday after daily doses of anti rejection medication. Certainly this would be the last hurdle on my road to recovery, or perhaps my last hurdle on my track to recovery. Best not to mix metaphors, even when they suck. You get the idea, though.
Saturday night, I noticed a lighter reddish-orange stain on my shirt. My incision was leaking a little bit. I did not think much of it and changed my shirt. The leaking worsened. I piled gauze and/or small towels over my incision to absorb the fluid, but it was of little help. Thankfully the fluid remained reddish-orange, not green, which would indicate an infection. I called my transplant coordinator and she advised me to go to the transplant floor and see the doctor. By the time I got over there, the leaking was so bad that it was soaking through my shirts in minutes. The doctor (with Trine’s assistance) applied an external ostomy bag to catch the drainage.
I had labs Monday morning and was feeling pretty good. I was sore, but began packing up my clothes for our big move to our new apartment which was set for the next week. I got a call mid afternoon from my transplant coordinator. As good as I felt, my labs showed a different picture and I was advised to check into the Transplant floor ASAP where a bed would be waiting. This is when things got bad.
When I was readmitted, I had a liver biopsy. While they were waiting for the results, I turned bright yellow. My bili went from 5 to 19 in one day due to my second bout of organ rejection. They eventually got me on thymoglobulin, an anti-rejection medication normally used for kidney patients but recently approved for trial on liver patients. This was a day and a half later. I began being treated for severe, no longer mild, rejection. I was given many doses of anti-rejection medication. I was pre-medicated with tylenol and benadryl to counteract the rough side effects of the anti-rejection medication, namely Thymoglobulin.
I was hospitalized a total of two weeks and during that time received many doses of pain medication, including one called Dilaudid. One thing you should know about Dilaudid: it is awesome. Another thing you should know is that it has some ugly side effects. During one hospitalization prior to my transplant, immediately upon receiving Dilaudid, I threw up. This would happen a number of times in the future. One time, as soon as I was dosed, I began itching uncontrollably. Another time, I ended up in the ICU, but to be fair it was mostly due to internal bleeding from the doctors accidentally nicking something during a procedure that day. Yet another fun side effect of Dilaudid is that your intestines back up due to your system slowing down from the medication. What particularly sucked about that is that not only was I denied medication, but I was also made NPO, which means no food or drink. Fuckin’A!! I received a lesson in Pain Medication 101 from a doctor one night during my hospitalization. They were trying to wean me off of pain meds, specifically of the IV variety, so naturally I was in a lot of pain. I did not like this, but did my best to understand. She told me that sometimes the body gets so dependent on the pain medication that it creates pain and the best thing to do is tough it out, or at least try a medication of lesser impact. Now, I will not go so far as to my call myself addicted to pain medication, but I will admit there have been moments where I have requested pain meds when I probably could have gone without them. The problem with Dilaudid as that while the calm washes over you and any pain (and lucidity) you have seems to slip away, it does not last very long. In the meantime, it has harmful effects on your body, as described above. It is best not to use over an extended period of time.
I wish I could remember every procedure that I had done over the two weeks. I got three liver biopsies and almost daily ultrasounds to monitor the blood flow in my liver and status of my rejection. I also had a few special procedures, such as chest x-rays and MRIs. The most upsetting occurrence would be when I was given pain meds, started to fall asleep and then would be yanked awake to go to a procedure. Being relaxed in a hospital is relatively rare thing and I tried to take advantage of those moments so it was especially upsetting to have those little moments of peace taken away.
Aside from pain medication and various procedures, another major part of my recovery was (and is) exercise. I began walking laps around the floor, mostly with the help of Trine or my mother. I was not always a wiling participant. I still had the staples in my incision and I tended to list forward, which caused more undue stress on my back. I had to remember to walk with with my head and back straight. By the end of my stay, I was making the rounds alone and with much better speed. I was a walkin' machine.
A little over a week into my stay, I got hold of my mother’s laptop computer. This was a turning point for me mentally. I finally was able to reach out to my friends and let them know I was doing Ok, as well as receive communications. I was able to check my email, listen to new music as well as watch DVDs. Law and Order: SVU kept me sane for those weeks inpatient. It was also during this stay that I received many cards from friends, which also helped to make my recovery more enjoyable. Thank you again to everyone who sent me cards during these months of recovery. They have meant so much. Do not take lack of thank you cards (my hands were, and still are, a bit swollen) as a lack of appreciation.
Now as if going through life-threatening organ rejection is not bad enough, I also had a bad roommate experience. The guy was nice enough (a kidney transplant patient) but he was on the phone all the time. No exaggeration. From dawn to dusk. I could hear his phone conversations more clearly than someone sitting on my side of the room talking to me. He was loud and his voice projected. He was a preacher and apparently called each member of his congregation as well has held prayer meetings via phone. Plus, on his TV, he tuned into all those preaching shows with guys yelling to audiences about the fiery consequences of pre-marital sex and listening to the hip hop. Not to mention, “Wearing Satan’s underpants.” I swear to you, that is an actual quote. I am not sure what he was talking about, but that got my attention.
Anyhow, I was happy when he left and Pedro, another kidney recipient, became my roommate. He was a really nice guy, around my age, and we talked and got to know each other over the few days leading to my discharge on Friday, June 13. I left the hospital weighing 140 lbs, 45 lbs lighter than a year ago at the time I became ill. I was optimistic, looking forward to recovery, thinking that this would surely be my last hospital stay. Wrong again.
To provide a little perspective, in 1984, my fiancee Trine was transplanted and was released from the hospital in Pittsburgh three months later. I was transplanted in May of 2008 and was released in three days. That was not a record, but close to it. Also, I was released with the least amount of medication that the nurse had ever seen. I thought that maybe I would pull through this liver transplant as easily as the doctors had predicted. Wrong.
My first night at home was incredibly rough. It was near impossible to find a comfortable position to sit or lay in. The closest I got to acceptable comfort was reclining back on our sofa. Because the muscles in my abdomen were shredded due to the surgery, my back had to pick up a lot of slack. Because of that, the pain in my back was pretty intense during those first few weeks following my transplant. The first night home, I slept four hours, had horrible nightmares, awoke frequently covered in sweat and kept Trine up a good portion of the night with my moans of pain and discomfort. Admittedly, I do not deal with pain very well and can be, for lack of a better word, whiny.
Upon taking my temperature, I confirmed that I had a fever. I was prescribed an antibiotic and told to contact my transplant coordinator if things did not improve. The next night was better, but that was not saying much. Just a day and a half later, on Thursday, I was rushed to the ER with a temperature of 104 degrees. Jackson Hospital is a fine facility and their transplant program is amazing; however, if you have ever had to go to their ER….I am sorry. It is awful. There I was, on a gurney, in a three feet (maybe) wide space, breathing 104 degree air back onto my face because I still had to wear a protective mask at that point. Finally, they drew blood, had me piss into a cup and rushed me off to get an ultrasound.
I was rushed to my ultrasound by one of the most obnoxious nurses I have encountered yet. First off, she bossed Trine around. Secondly, she tapped my stomach and incision fairly hard before even asking what I was in the hospital for. Lastly, she preached at me. It is no secret that I am not keen on having people talk religion at me, but if ever there was a worse time. She told me that some guy was hosting a healing retreat somewhere in central Florida and "there was a whole lot of healing going on" and I should go. My first thought was that if having money in my wallet was considered an illness, I am sure he would heal me very quickly. Then I thought about how my transplant surgeons would feel about me opting for some quack healing ceremony versus life saving surgery. I am not trying to shit on anyone’s beliefs, but I could not think of a more inappropriate time to be pushing her views on me. Plus, the hospital had not even let me take my anti-rejection meds and I was due over an hour ago. Needless to say, I was in a foul mood.
Later that night, things began to improve. The fever broke and I was given a bolus of steroids that made me feel a lot better. However, it was also made everything I ate or drank that night taste like metal. Nasty. I was treated for a mild case of rejection. When Dr. Tzakis came in, he spoke of the possibility of another surgery if it turned out o be my bile ducts that were the issue. Thankfully, no such surgery was necessary. I was released on Saturday after daily doses of anti rejection medication. Certainly this would be the last hurdle on my road to recovery, or perhaps my last hurdle on my track to recovery. Best not to mix metaphors, even when they suck. You get the idea, though.
Saturday night, I noticed a lighter reddish-orange stain on my shirt. My incision was leaking a little bit. I did not think much of it and changed my shirt. The leaking worsened. I piled gauze and/or small towels over my incision to absorb the fluid, but it was of little help. Thankfully the fluid remained reddish-orange, not green, which would indicate an infection. I called my transplant coordinator and she advised me to go to the transplant floor and see the doctor. By the time I got over there, the leaking was so bad that it was soaking through my shirts in minutes. The doctor (with Trine’s assistance) applied an external ostomy bag to catch the drainage.
I had labs Monday morning and was feeling pretty good. I was sore, but began packing up my clothes for our big move to our new apartment which was set for the next week. I got a call mid afternoon from my transplant coordinator. As good as I felt, my labs showed a different picture and I was advised to check into the Transplant floor ASAP where a bed would be waiting. This is when things got bad.
When I was readmitted, I had a liver biopsy. While they were waiting for the results, I turned bright yellow. My bili went from 5 to 19 in one day due to my second bout of organ rejection. They eventually got me on thymoglobulin, an anti-rejection medication normally used for kidney patients but recently approved for trial on liver patients. This was a day and a half later. I began being treated for severe, no longer mild, rejection. I was given many doses of anti-rejection medication. I was pre-medicated with tylenol and benadryl to counteract the rough side effects of the anti-rejection medication, namely Thymoglobulin.
I was hospitalized a total of two weeks and during that time received many doses of pain medication, including one called Dilaudid. One thing you should know about Dilaudid: it is awesome. Another thing you should know is that it has some ugly side effects. During one hospitalization prior to my transplant, immediately upon receiving Dilaudid, I threw up. This would happen a number of times in the future. One time, as soon as I was dosed, I began itching uncontrollably. Another time, I ended up in the ICU, but to be fair it was mostly due to internal bleeding from the doctors accidentally nicking something during a procedure that day. Yet another fun side effect of Dilaudid is that your intestines back up due to your system slowing down from the medication. What particularly sucked about that is that not only was I denied medication, but I was also made NPO, which means no food or drink. Fuckin’A!! I received a lesson in Pain Medication 101 from a doctor one night during my hospitalization. They were trying to wean me off of pain meds, specifically of the IV variety, so naturally I was in a lot of pain. I did not like this, but did my best to understand. She told me that sometimes the body gets so dependent on the pain medication that it creates pain and the best thing to do is tough it out, or at least try a medication of lesser impact. Now, I will not go so far as to my call myself addicted to pain medication, but I will admit there have been moments where I have requested pain meds when I probably could have gone without them. The problem with Dilaudid as that while the calm washes over you and any pain (and lucidity) you have seems to slip away, it does not last very long. In the meantime, it has harmful effects on your body, as described above. It is best not to use over an extended period of time.
I wish I could remember every procedure that I had done over the two weeks. I got three liver biopsies and almost daily ultrasounds to monitor the blood flow in my liver and status of my rejection. I also had a few special procedures, such as chest x-rays and MRIs. The most upsetting occurrence would be when I was given pain meds, started to fall asleep and then would be yanked awake to go to a procedure. Being relaxed in a hospital is relatively rare thing and I tried to take advantage of those moments so it was especially upsetting to have those little moments of peace taken away.
Aside from pain medication and various procedures, another major part of my recovery was (and is) exercise. I began walking laps around the floor, mostly with the help of Trine or my mother. I was not always a wiling participant. I still had the staples in my incision and I tended to list forward, which caused more undue stress on my back. I had to remember to walk with with my head and back straight. By the end of my stay, I was making the rounds alone and with much better speed. I was a walkin' machine.
A little over a week into my stay, I got hold of my mother’s laptop computer. This was a turning point for me mentally. I finally was able to reach out to my friends and let them know I was doing Ok, as well as receive communications. I was able to check my email, listen to new music as well as watch DVDs. Law and Order: SVU kept me sane for those weeks inpatient. It was also during this stay that I received many cards from friends, which also helped to make my recovery more enjoyable. Thank you again to everyone who sent me cards during these months of recovery. They have meant so much. Do not take lack of thank you cards (my hands were, and still are, a bit swollen) as a lack of appreciation.
Now as if going through life-threatening organ rejection is not bad enough, I also had a bad roommate experience. The guy was nice enough (a kidney transplant patient) but he was on the phone all the time. No exaggeration. From dawn to dusk. I could hear his phone conversations more clearly than someone sitting on my side of the room talking to me. He was loud and his voice projected. He was a preacher and apparently called each member of his congregation as well has held prayer meetings via phone. Plus, on his TV, he tuned into all those preaching shows with guys yelling to audiences about the fiery consequences of pre-marital sex and listening to the hip hop. Not to mention, “Wearing Satan’s underpants.” I swear to you, that is an actual quote. I am not sure what he was talking about, but that got my attention.
Anyhow, I was happy when he left and Pedro, another kidney recipient, became my roommate. He was a really nice guy, around my age, and we talked and got to know each other over the few days leading to my discharge on Friday, June 13. I left the hospital weighing 140 lbs, 45 lbs lighter than a year ago at the time I became ill. I was optimistic, looking forward to recovery, thinking that this would surely be my last hospital stay. Wrong again.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Liver Transplant 2008: Part 1 (Intro, Pre Transplant and The Call)
Introduction
I am writing this blog for a few reasons. The first is simply as a release for me. Trine was concerned that I do not have an outlet for my feelings and it has affected my moods, especially over the past weeks, which included a one-month stay in the hospital. She is right. My fingers are still numb from the swelling that happened because of all the IVs and blood draws in the hospital, so guitar playing is tough right now. I only have a couple people down this way that I consider friends and I haven’t been very social lately. Until yesterday, I had not done any exercise or anything to make myself physically stronger. I am certainly glad to now have that outlet. Last but not least, I haven’t done any writing since my transplant. I need this. While I had a relatively easy pre-transplant road, things have not gone as smoothly as hoped since my surgery. I will get into that a little later.
The second reason I chose to write this blog is to let my friends and family know what I’ve been going through on a deeper level. Some of this will be redundant, while other bits will probably come as a surprise.
Lastly, to all the people on Liver Families, especially the parents whose children are going through similar situations but are too young to adequately voice their feelings: I want you to know some of the thoughts and feelings that your child may be feeling. I want to get my thoughts down on paper while they are all still relatively fresh. It won’t all be pretty, but I am being honest.
Pre-Transplant
I won’t spend too much time on pre-transplant life because I have already written about it. I got sick last July. I thought that my liver just gave up on me after 26.5 good years, though looking back I could see that I had slowly been getting sick since 2000, my only visible symptom a small dash of yellow in the corner of my eyes. If you weren’t looking for it, you likely would not see it.
I was at the gym on a Saturday morning working out heavy when I began to feel…off. By the next day, I am laid up in my bedroom, vomiting, sweating profusely, my skin and eyes highlighter yellow and my head pounding with a ferocious pain unlike any I had ever experienced. Finally, Trine convinced my stubborn ass to get to the Emergency Room. I did and they basically dismissed my symptoms and gave me a pill that they give chemo patients to help reduce the vomiting. The next morning, I took the pill, threw it up immediately, and had my dad drive me back to the Emergency Room. This time, they had the foresight enough to call my GI doc and I was admitted to another hospital. I spent eight days in the hospital, felt much better, but it turned out my doctor did not know what had gone wrong and they had put a band aid on my symptoms, but by no means did they heal me.
Over the next few months, which included a move to Florida, things progressively got worse. My bilirubin (the amount of bile in my blood) continued to fluctuate, as did my shade of yellow. At times, my liver refused to break down protein and I got very sick. My symptoms included stomach pains, fevers, sweating, vomiting and generally feeling like shit. This happened probably every couple weeks. I also had a lot of itching, which is a result of the bile salts building up in the blood. By December 2007, I had no hair on my legs below the knees and I had blood stains on my work pants from scratching so hard. Thankfully, the itching calmed down in the new year, though it did not stop totally until I was transplanted. I wound up in the hospital a few times with cholangitis, an infection in my bile ducts. The bile would not flow right and I would end up sick with fevers again. However, for the most part I was able to work full time, feel pretty good and still be high up on the transplant list. When Dr. Tzakis would eventually take out my liver, he remarked that my vessels were “a rats nest” and had I not been called when I was, things would have gone downhill for me very fast. Any doubts to the severity of my condition, if I would get better on my own or if this transplant was really necessary, were put to rest then.
The Call
I got the call on May 23, 2008. I woke up at 7 a.m. and jumped in the shower, planning to wash up, dress and take our dog Niles out for his morning walk/pee/poop. Niles would have to wait that morning. Before I could even begin washing my hair, Trine burst in. “They’re going to call you!” I think I stopped moving for a second. I could barely stop the flow of emotions and thoughts. It didn’t feel real (and wouldn’t for weeks to come). I didn’t know what to do first. I finished up in the shower as fast as I could. When I got out of the shower, the Donor Desk had already called and Trine informed me that I had to be at the hospital for noon. She then began calling her family and friends. I did the same, all while trying to figure out what else I needed to prepare. Trine and I had been over this before, but now that it was real, it seemed to slip my mind and I felt like I was in a fog.
I signed onto my work computer and sent emails to my boss, forwarding various emails she and the team would need to finish up my cases. A part of me felt bad for dumping so much work on them, and would be unable to contribute during busy season, but I had to put those thoughts aside fast; I was getting life saving surgery and that trumped my 9 to 5 for the time being.
Next, I had to prepare myself physically. Trine informed me that I would be shaved from “neck to knees” in order to perform the transplant and suggested I save the time. She ran to Winn Dixie and grabbed 2 tubes of hair removal cream. Yes, this is a little bit embarrassing to admit, but I’m over it. I jumped back in the shower and applied the cream. Basically how it works is that you apply the cream to the areas where you want hair removed and wait until it starts to BURN! Then use the little plastic thingy they give you and scrape the hair off. If you’ve done it right, the hair will come off in clumps and make a huge mess of your shower. Keep in mind, I am still making and taking phone calls at this point, even while in the shower.
After shearing myself, Trine and I checked our “hospital box” to make sure it was complete. This box included maps of the Jackson Hospital area, as well as drinks and snacks. It was more for Trine and my family than me. I couldn’t see myself eating crackers in the too near future. But we had that covered, too. There were a couple containers of Gerber baby food, too. They went uneaten.
I am writing this blog for a few reasons. The first is simply as a release for me. Trine was concerned that I do not have an outlet for my feelings and it has affected my moods, especially over the past weeks, which included a one-month stay in the hospital. She is right. My fingers are still numb from the swelling that happened because of all the IVs and blood draws in the hospital, so guitar playing is tough right now. I only have a couple people down this way that I consider friends and I haven’t been very social lately. Until yesterday, I had not done any exercise or anything to make myself physically stronger. I am certainly glad to now have that outlet. Last but not least, I haven’t done any writing since my transplant. I need this. While I had a relatively easy pre-transplant road, things have not gone as smoothly as hoped since my surgery. I will get into that a little later.
The second reason I chose to write this blog is to let my friends and family know what I’ve been going through on a deeper level. Some of this will be redundant, while other bits will probably come as a surprise.
Lastly, to all the people on Liver Families, especially the parents whose children are going through similar situations but are too young to adequately voice their feelings: I want you to know some of the thoughts and feelings that your child may be feeling. I want to get my thoughts down on paper while they are all still relatively fresh. It won’t all be pretty, but I am being honest.
Pre-Transplant
I won’t spend too much time on pre-transplant life because I have already written about it. I got sick last July. I thought that my liver just gave up on me after 26.5 good years, though looking back I could see that I had slowly been getting sick since 2000, my only visible symptom a small dash of yellow in the corner of my eyes. If you weren’t looking for it, you likely would not see it.
I was at the gym on a Saturday morning working out heavy when I began to feel…off. By the next day, I am laid up in my bedroom, vomiting, sweating profusely, my skin and eyes highlighter yellow and my head pounding with a ferocious pain unlike any I had ever experienced. Finally, Trine convinced my stubborn ass to get to the Emergency Room. I did and they basically dismissed my symptoms and gave me a pill that they give chemo patients to help reduce the vomiting. The next morning, I took the pill, threw it up immediately, and had my dad drive me back to the Emergency Room. This time, they had the foresight enough to call my GI doc and I was admitted to another hospital. I spent eight days in the hospital, felt much better, but it turned out my doctor did not know what had gone wrong and they had put a band aid on my symptoms, but by no means did they heal me.
Over the next few months, which included a move to Florida, things progressively got worse. My bilirubin (the amount of bile in my blood) continued to fluctuate, as did my shade of yellow. At times, my liver refused to break down protein and I got very sick. My symptoms included stomach pains, fevers, sweating, vomiting and generally feeling like shit. This happened probably every couple weeks. I also had a lot of itching, which is a result of the bile salts building up in the blood. By December 2007, I had no hair on my legs below the knees and I had blood stains on my work pants from scratching so hard. Thankfully, the itching calmed down in the new year, though it did not stop totally until I was transplanted. I wound up in the hospital a few times with cholangitis, an infection in my bile ducts. The bile would not flow right and I would end up sick with fevers again. However, for the most part I was able to work full time, feel pretty good and still be high up on the transplant list. When Dr. Tzakis would eventually take out my liver, he remarked that my vessels were “a rats nest” and had I not been called when I was, things would have gone downhill for me very fast. Any doubts to the severity of my condition, if I would get better on my own or if this transplant was really necessary, were put to rest then.
The Call
I got the call on May 23, 2008. I woke up at 7 a.m. and jumped in the shower, planning to wash up, dress and take our dog Niles out for his morning walk/pee/poop. Niles would have to wait that morning. Before I could even begin washing my hair, Trine burst in. “They’re going to call you!” I think I stopped moving for a second. I could barely stop the flow of emotions and thoughts. It didn’t feel real (and wouldn’t for weeks to come). I didn’t know what to do first. I finished up in the shower as fast as I could. When I got out of the shower, the Donor Desk had already called and Trine informed me that I had to be at the hospital for noon. She then began calling her family and friends. I did the same, all while trying to figure out what else I needed to prepare. Trine and I had been over this before, but now that it was real, it seemed to slip my mind and I felt like I was in a fog.
I signed onto my work computer and sent emails to my boss, forwarding various emails she and the team would need to finish up my cases. A part of me felt bad for dumping so much work on them, and would be unable to contribute during busy season, but I had to put those thoughts aside fast; I was getting life saving surgery and that trumped my 9 to 5 for the time being.
Next, I had to prepare myself physically. Trine informed me that I would be shaved from “neck to knees” in order to perform the transplant and suggested I save the time. She ran to Winn Dixie and grabbed 2 tubes of hair removal cream. Yes, this is a little bit embarrassing to admit, but I’m over it. I jumped back in the shower and applied the cream. Basically how it works is that you apply the cream to the areas where you want hair removed and wait until it starts to BURN! Then use the little plastic thingy they give you and scrape the hair off. If you’ve done it right, the hair will come off in clumps and make a huge mess of your shower. Keep in mind, I am still making and taking phone calls at this point, even while in the shower.
After shearing myself, Trine and I checked our “hospital box” to make sure it was complete. This box included maps of the Jackson Hospital area, as well as drinks and snacks. It was more for Trine and my family than me. I couldn’t see myself eating crackers in the too near future. But we had that covered, too. There were a couple containers of Gerber baby food, too. They went uneaten.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Hollywood bound; Open Letter to...
Hey everyone,
How's life? Things have been pretty busy on my end. I've been feeling OK. There have been no more trips to hospital as of late, no more fevers and my energy level has been better than usual. It's busy season at work and I've been putting in a lot of hours.
In addition, Trine and I are preparing to move to a new apartment in Hollywood, Florida, about 20 min. from our current residence in Miami. We're really excited, but I'll admit I'm gonna miss some things about our current neighborhood. I'll miss being afraid to walk my dog after dark. I'll miss the crowing of the rooster each morning...and afternoon, for some reason. Certainly, I will miss the man who lives under the bridge. And, yes, I'll even miss calling up Pizza Hut or Papa Johns and being yelled at because I don't speak Spanish and then being delivered the wrong order. Sure, Miami has it's charm. But the new building we're moving into is awesome. It's located the world's largest roundabout in the United States (so wouldn't that make it the world's largest roundabout period?) Either way, it's just a fancy way of saying traffic circle. But in the middle is a great park where Trine and I can walk Niles. The building has some great amenities and is closer to my work and where Trine will be going to graduate school.
So, before I rant and rave like a crazy person again, let me tell you a cool story about my fiancé Trine. As some of you may know, she had a liver transplant at the age of 2. She was Florida's first liver recipient and because transplantation was so new, she recieved a lot of media attention. She's a bit of celeb in the world of transplantation.
Well, it's been over 24 years since her surgery and Trine has never gotten a chance to meet the family of the little girl whose liver she received. She tried over the years to contact them but Tennessee and Pittsburgh Organ Procurement Organizations put up walls and gave Trine the impression that the family had no interest in being in contact.
Just over a month ago after 24 years, Trine gets a message on MySpace from the sister of Amanda, the little girls whose liver Trine received! It turns out the family had tried on numerous occasions to contact Trine. The two have exchanged emails and have become great friends. They hope to meet in the near future.
Trine's experience got me thinking about my future donor family. I know, I know, one step at a time. First get the liver, then recovery and then worry about whether the family will want to know me.
There has been a lot of negative press about organ donation/transplantation lately and I think it's important for people to know about a very positive story. The media rarely has interest in the positive outcomes of transplantation or the many successes. It's also great to see a story of two people connecting via MySpace that doesn't end with rape.
Anyhow, I never knew how much meeting Trine's donor family meant to her until a month ago.
I find it interesting when people get together in a group to protest conformity.
All extremists should be killed.
With things being so busy lately, I've hardly found time to scour the news for stuff to rant about, so instead I've decided to write a few open letters to some people that have pissed me off.
Open Letter to the Guy in the Elevator the Other Day
Hello guy from the elevator. What was that fragrance you were wearing yesterday? It was absolutely breathtaking. And by that, I mean that I could not fucking breathe! Seriously, bro, let's try not to smell like the stink water desk at Macy's. It's pretty arrogant of you to impose your scent upon everyone else just because you forgot to shower or think that chicks dig gagging on CK-One. But I guess choking a girl with your grotesque cologne is a bit more economical than date rape drugs. Good luck at the singles bar, fucko.
Open Letter to Lori Drew
Hi Lori, how are you today? Not so good, I imagine. Going to prison probably isn't what you had in mind when you opened a My Space account in order to find out what Megan was saying about your daughter. And I'm sure you didn't think that you'd eventually be indicted for perpetrating an online hoax and harassing your neighbor's daughter to the point where she hung herself? I'm sorry, hanged herself. That always gets me. From what I understand, this Megan chick was talking smack about your daughter so you pretended to be a boy named "Josh" to gain Megan's trust and find out what she was saying about your daughter. Wow. Then you began harrasing Megan and saying stuff like the 'world would be better off wihtout her.' Then she killed herself. Oops. Kind of ironic because, in actuality, the world will be better off without you. Have fun in prison, fucko.
Open Letter to the Guy Who Got Pulled Over by a Cop in Miami
Hi, there. Wow, how bad of a driver to you have to be to actually get pulled over in Miami? Did you actually have a pedestrian's body still clinging to the hood of your car? I think even that is only a small fine down here. Seriously. What exactly do you have to do to get the attention of a cop in Miami? Let me guess: you were on the cell phone, snorting coke off of a Miami Beach prostitute's stomach, speeding and didn't signal while turning and shooting off a handgun. Have fun at traffic school, fucko.
Ok, folks, gotta get back to packing. I hope this weekend finds you all doing well.
How's life? Things have been pretty busy on my end. I've been feeling OK. There have been no more trips to hospital as of late, no more fevers and my energy level has been better than usual. It's busy season at work and I've been putting in a lot of hours.
In addition, Trine and I are preparing to move to a new apartment in Hollywood, Florida, about 20 min. from our current residence in Miami. We're really excited, but I'll admit I'm gonna miss some things about our current neighborhood. I'll miss being afraid to walk my dog after dark. I'll miss the crowing of the rooster each morning...and afternoon, for some reason. Certainly, I will miss the man who lives under the bridge. And, yes, I'll even miss calling up Pizza Hut or Papa Johns and being yelled at because I don't speak Spanish and then being delivered the wrong order. Sure, Miami has it's charm. But the new building we're moving into is awesome. It's located the world's largest roundabout in the United States (so wouldn't that make it the world's largest roundabout period?) Either way, it's just a fancy way of saying traffic circle. But in the middle is a great park where Trine and I can walk Niles. The building has some great amenities and is closer to my work and where Trine will be going to graduate school.
So, before I rant and rave like a crazy person again, let me tell you a cool story about my fiancé Trine. As some of you may know, she had a liver transplant at the age of 2. She was Florida's first liver recipient and because transplantation was so new, she recieved a lot of media attention. She's a bit of celeb in the world of transplantation.
Well, it's been over 24 years since her surgery and Trine has never gotten a chance to meet the family of the little girl whose liver she received. She tried over the years to contact them but Tennessee and Pittsburgh Organ Procurement Organizations put up walls and gave Trine the impression that the family had no interest in being in contact.
Just over a month ago after 24 years, Trine gets a message on MySpace from the sister of Amanda, the little girls whose liver Trine received! It turns out the family had tried on numerous occasions to contact Trine. The two have exchanged emails and have become great friends. They hope to meet in the near future.
Trine's experience got me thinking about my future donor family. I know, I know, one step at a time. First get the liver, then recovery and then worry about whether the family will want to know me.
There has been a lot of negative press about organ donation/transplantation lately and I think it's important for people to know about a very positive story. The media rarely has interest in the positive outcomes of transplantation or the many successes. It's also great to see a story of two people connecting via MySpace that doesn't end with rape.
Anyhow, I never knew how much meeting Trine's donor family meant to her until a month ago.
I find it interesting when people get together in a group to protest conformity.
All extremists should be killed.
With things being so busy lately, I've hardly found time to scour the news for stuff to rant about, so instead I've decided to write a few open letters to some people that have pissed me off.
Open Letter to the Guy in the Elevator the Other Day
Hello guy from the elevator. What was that fragrance you were wearing yesterday? It was absolutely breathtaking. And by that, I mean that I could not fucking breathe! Seriously, bro, let's try not to smell like the stink water desk at Macy's. It's pretty arrogant of you to impose your scent upon everyone else just because you forgot to shower or think that chicks dig gagging on CK-One. But I guess choking a girl with your grotesque cologne is a bit more economical than date rape drugs. Good luck at the singles bar, fucko.
Open Letter to Lori Drew
Hi Lori, how are you today? Not so good, I imagine. Going to prison probably isn't what you had in mind when you opened a My Space account in order to find out what Megan was saying about your daughter. And I'm sure you didn't think that you'd eventually be indicted for perpetrating an online hoax and harassing your neighbor's daughter to the point where she hung herself? I'm sorry, hanged herself. That always gets me. From what I understand, this Megan chick was talking smack about your daughter so you pretended to be a boy named "Josh" to gain Megan's trust and find out what she was saying about your daughter. Wow. Then you began harrasing Megan and saying stuff like the 'world would be better off wihtout her.' Then she killed herself. Oops. Kind of ironic because, in actuality, the world will be better off without you. Have fun in prison, fucko.
Open Letter to the Guy Who Got Pulled Over by a Cop in Miami
Hi, there. Wow, how bad of a driver to you have to be to actually get pulled over in Miami? Did you actually have a pedestrian's body still clinging to the hood of your car? I think even that is only a small fine down here. Seriously. What exactly do you have to do to get the attention of a cop in Miami? Let me guess: you were on the cell phone, snorting coke off of a Miami Beach prostitute's stomach, speeding and didn't signal while turning and shooting off a handgun. Have fun at traffic school, fucko.
Ok, folks, gotta get back to packing. I hope this weekend finds you all doing well.
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