Tide You Over

Well, here's your filler, till I am upright again.  Hospital tomorrow…new report time is 8 am, with the first ceremonial cut scheduled for 10 am.  That's the first schedule change, others will most certainly follow.  I may have to to a post-op post or two on my experience.

But on to our topic. I love this stuff.  What would a shrink say that says about me?  Who the hell cares.  Read on, and be enlightened (I hope these are accurate. For all I know, some of them are a lie from the pit of hell):

Maine is the closest U.S. state to Africa

Anne Frank, Martin Luther King, Jr…and Barbara Walters were born in the same year, 1929

Cleopatra lived closer to the invention of the iPhone than she did to the building of the Great Pyramid.

Russia has a larger surface area than Pluto.

Hippo milk is pink.

Carrots were originally purple.

The heart of a whale is so big, a human can swim through the arteries. Nice visual.

Vending machines are twice as likely to kill you than a shark is.  Seriously?

Home Alone was released closer to the moon landing than it was to today.

Oxford University is older than the Aztec Empire.

France was still executing people with the guillotine when the first Star Wars film came out.  Ouch!

Betty White is actually older the sliced bread.

Not once in the Humpty Dumpty nursery rhyme does it mention he is an egg.

A strawberry isn't a berry but a banana is.  So are avocados and watermelon.

New York City is further south than Rome, Italy.

North Korea and Finland are separated by only one country.

Mammoths went extinct 1,000 years after the Egyptians finished the Great Pyramid.

Nintendo was founded as a trading card company back in 1889.

The last time the Chicago Cubs won the World Series, women did not have the right to vote.

If you shrunk the sun down to the size of a white blood cell and shrunk the Milky Way Galaxy down using the same scale, it would be the size of the continental United States.  Think on that a bit.

John Tyler (10th US President), has a grandson who is alive today.

Humans share 50% of their DNA with bananas.  Well, that explains so much!

Alaska is simultaneously the most northern, most western, and most eastern state in the U.S.

Pluto never made a full orbit around the sun from the time it was discovered to when it was declassified as a planet.

There are more stars in space than there are grains of sand on every beach on Earth.  Wow! Think about that one.  Why, just Nauset Beach alone…..

There are more public libraries than McDonalds in the U.S.  Maybe there's hope?

You can't hum while holding your nose. Well, I can't anyway.

The pyramids were as old to the Romans as the Romans are to us.

There is 10 times more bacteria in your body than actual body cells.  OK, that bothers me.

And 90% of the cells that make us up aren't human but mostly fungi and bacteria.  Now, I'm really freaked.

Turtles can breathe out of their butts.  TMI.  Actually, I know people like that.

There are more atoms in a glass of water than glasses of water in all the oceans on Earth.

The probability of you drinking a glass of water that contains a molecule of water that also passed through a dinosaur is almost 100%. Through the dinosaur???

At the time the current oldest person on Earth was born, there was a completely different set of human beings on the planet.

And finally, for KBF, the dot over an "i" is called a tittle.  So there.

Mark Twain Quote:  "Never waste a lie; you never know when you may need it."

Pre-Surgery Week

I have a plan, a definite plan, a logical (?) plan, a (thankfully) short plan.  It's Surgery Week.  Or, should I say Pre-Surgery Week, full of events leading up to the big cut.  And, in my case, hopefully, the little cut.

Monday, I'm off to my primary care doc for a "pre-surgery clearance" visit.  I guess I have to have his blessing that I'm breathing hard enough to enjoy the process that is soon to follow.

On Wednesday, I hit the big three, plus one.  An early morning CT scan, followed by a pre-surgery consult with the actual, factual, surgeon.  He's a guy I like a lot.  The more I talk to him, the more confident I feel about the whole mess.  A friend of mine, prominent in the real estate game hereabouts, had major back surgery done recently by this fellow and loves both the outcome and the person who saved him.  And in the process, I think he sold 2 houses while he was in residence at the hospital.

At 3 pm, I then meet with the anesthesia doc who,  on Monday next, is  going to send me on a short vacation where, hopefully, I will dream only the sweet dreams I want to, and not see any brilliant lights coming my way …. or be relegated to hovering in the corner of the OR, up by the ceiling, watching a bunch of people while they ply their trade on my back.  Just sweet dreams, please.  What I have to do here in the way of "pre-testing," I have no idea.

That makes three for the day.  The plus one is my dentist, who has called twice now to reschedule my check up … and I figured what the hell, the day's shot anyway …. so I fit him in at noon.

Then it's wait till Monday, June 16th, where I have an appointment at Crouse for 10 am.  That's arrival time.   Given my limited experience with other medical procedures, I know surgery won't happen till 2 pm or so.  Hospitals, more than most other institutions, specialize in waiting.  It's an art form, and they're damn good at it.

So, that's that.  I'll check in when I can.  I shan't bring my iPad to the hospital, as I fear I would not leave with it.  Sad to think that, isn't it?  But I'll be in touch, perhaps with a tide you over post before I actually go.

Mark Twain Quote:  "One should not bring sympathy to a sick man.  It is always kindly meant, and of course it has to be taken - but it isn't much of an improvement on castor ooil.  One who has a sick man's true interest at heart will forbear spoken sympathy, and bring him surreptitious soup and fried oysters and other trifles that the doctor has tabooed."

Oops….Not So Fast

Well, it turns out that Tiger and I aren’t so connected at the hip, or should I say back, after all.  Oh, for sure we both have herniated discs, but mine, in one case, has improved, while the other stuff that’s not bothering Tiger so much has gone south for me.  L4-5 is the culprit, and it has decided to show just who is boss of this operation, no pun.

And this, boys and girls, is your Lumbar Spine.  Pretty, isn't it?  Looks like a snake.

Of course, I found this out when in Florida for my pre-op consult…which took place exactly 15 hours before my scheduled surgery.  Think they could have made a phone call and saved me a trip? 

Though I did spend a week in Florida, and thoroughly enjoyed sun that warmed me to my bones, it was, for the business of the business I was there for, a wasted trip.  It also called to mind the inexact and imperfect and inefficient world that is medicine these days.

All of which left me more than a little peeved.  A letter written by a pen warmed up in hell is in the offing.  I think the good Doctor needs to know there is a huge disconnect between him and his “front office.”  This was to be my very first surgery in my whole little life, so I had no precedence to guide me, but in retrospect, I could hear balls being dropped at every juncture of this experience.  Luck of the Irish.

So, I am back in sunny Syracuse, now scheduling another stab at painless.  This time it’s an orthopedic surgeon, not a neurosurgeon.  And, I’m happy to report, so far, so good.  I’ve had the consult, scheduled the pre-op visit, and have a surgery date.  The doctor in this instance knows full well that on August 1^st, the bus for Cape Cod leaves the depot, whether I’m on it or not.  He assures me I will be on it.  We’ll see.

Because this is a more extensive endeavor (a fusion for God’s sake), it is a little more serious.  But, as luck would have it, again I qualify (so far) for the minimally invasive version of this surgery.  That, they promise me, means less pain, less recovery time, and in some respects, a better outcome.  Golf and biking and walking are gloriously in my fairly immediate future.  If I couldn't be physically active, I'd go nuts. 

And I guess I’m thankful for the present day.  My neighbor across the street had a spinal fusion done 50 years ago (he’s 90ish and still walks, plays golf, etc.) and he had to live in a body cast for 3 months after surgery!  With good behavior, they tell me I’m out in 2-3 days, tops.  By the time my kids deserve one of these, they will probably do it as an outpatient; in at breakfast, out by dinner. Or maybe even at home.

Mark Twain Quote: “as far as being on the verge of being a sick man I don’t take any stock in that.  I have been on the verge of being an angel all of my life, but it’s never happened yet.”

Tiger and I…...

….have something in common!  Aside:  for anyone who is a reader of this blog, you understand the title explicitly.  For those of you who think this should read “Me and Tiger,” well, there’s not much hope for you.  You will probably end up with a job somewhere, even though your resume is no doubt a minefield of mistakes, with some lies thrown in for luck.  And it probably runs on for 2 or 3 pages…hint, you’re not that important. In the final analysis, there is no excuse for poor English in the better echelons of the working world. Wait, what is going on here?  Pain. Pain makes me rant, and I am in pain.

Anyway, Tiger and I do have one thing in common, and it’s not a flawless golf swing.  Tiger recently dropped out of competition to have surgery performed on his back.  To be exact, he underwent a microdiscectomy on his spine.  This to correct a herniated disc that caused him much pain and suffering. 

Well, I’m proud to say I’ve got one as well.  I always thought that people who complained of back issues were basically, well, faking it.  How could a back possibly cause that much trouble was my opinion on the subject….right up to the moment it happened to me.  Now I understand and shed tears when people tell me how they are sent to their knees, banished to the floor on all fours, unable to walk upright. Yes brother, I believe, and share your pain, literally.

Now, I’ve got some other issues as well – misaligned vertebrae, some stenosis, and a little arthritis throw in.  Tiger probably has some of that as well, as I’ve come to believe that once your back revolts and sends you the memo, it’s usually on more than one level. And I am amazed to learn that back pain, in various combinations, is rampant among us.  There is hardly a person I talk to about this who has not had back troubles of some stripe - young, old, and every back in between.

I’ve had this for over a year, but didn’t take it seriously until I could no longer swing a golf club (again, my kinship with Tiger).  Then I took this all VERY seriously. Off to the Docs.  Of course, they start small and work their way up the chain, but always waiting at the end is the dreaded phrase, “spinal surgery.”  I tried it all.  PT, gym, swimming, massage, acupuncture, reflexology (see “Better Than Sex” – 12/7/13), biking, walking, epidural spinal injections, offerings to the gods, and finally, serious sessions of sailor swearing while drinking adult beverages.  Nothing helped.

So, it was off to a specialist…. or should I say two specialists. Always get a second opinion. It pays…you’ll see.  Now, up front, I’ve got to tell you I was impressed with both of them, and liked them instantly.  But…..but….these two learned men looked at the very same MRI films, and presented me with two completely different treatment recommendations! Oy!  What now?

The one fella, my primary surgery contact, is an orthopedic surgeon here in Syracuse, while the other is a neurosurgeon.  The neurosurgeon is in Florida , and was my second opinion, even though I saw him first – long story, won’t bore you. He showed me a section of my spine where the nerve is supposed to be nice and straight.  My problem is that at that point (L3-4 for you amateur docs) my nerve resembled a bend in the Mississippi river.  The nice little disc was a leakin’ out of its rightful place and just twisting that little nerve into a pretzel. His opinion: I needed a microdiscectomy.  Minimally invasive.  In at 5:30am, out by dinner.  Treat the other problems if and when they started barking.  I liked the sound of that.

He also cautioned me in two areas.  Avoid any “laser” spine outfits…period.  And he told me the “ortho boys” would want to fuse me.  How right he was.

When I arrived back in frigid Syracuse, I went to the orthopedic surgeon for my consultation visit.  The first thing he said as he was reviewing my MRI was that I would need a fusion at 2 levels in my spine, with the full accompaniment of nuts, bolts, screws, and plates that would make an airport screening gizmo scream at me like I was a terrorist.  I would, they said, lose about 15% mobility in my spine…not good for a golf swing, but my swing sucks anyway, so maybe this would be an improvement.  They did assure me I would play golf again.

Gee, what would you do?  Well, I posed that query to everyone I talked with about back issues, which included folks who have never had an inch of pain in their life and others who had back surgery in one form or another.  Now that advice pool runs the gamut from my barber to my doctor friends.  To a person, they just looked at me and simply said:  DUH!

So, I’m off to Florida to be minimally invaded on May 22.  Sunny Florida….and now, also a very HOT and HUMID Florida.  Why couldn’t my neurosurgeon be at the Cape????

I’ll write an update and pass it on, so it may be awhile…..stay tuned. 

Mark Twain Quote:  “Dear Sir (or Madam):  I try every remedy sent to me.  I am now on No. 67.  Yours is 2,653.  I am looking forward to its beneficial results.”

Up, Up and Away

The Outer Banks from way up high in sky

Odd as it may seem, there's something liberating about being confined in a steel tube with 170 other sneezing, coughing, belching humans (not to mention screaming munchkins), cruising along at about 500 mph,  35,000 ft. above precious terra firma.  Every instinct in your body tells you you should be dropping like a stone.  Or, better still, you never should have been able to leave the warm embrace of the runway in the first place.  It just doesn't make sense…two oddly shaped metal surfaces, protruding from each side of the tube,  have the mystical power to actually LIFT prodigious amounts of weight far into the sky.  No way. Yet, way.

But I must not dwell on that.  Actually, I do love flying, with one exception, not including the process of actually getting to the plane.  I would kick about 1/3 of the passengers off the aircraft, so the rest of us could enjoy some breathing room.  There's just too damn many people squeezed into these things, plain and simple.

On my trip to Florida recently, I flew directly over the Outer Banks (See "My Unvisited Gem" - 3/13/14).  As luck would have it, it was a cloudless portion of the ride, and I could actually contemplate life and love, past and future, hot fudge sundaes, lobster rolls, golf swings, favorite movies, bucket lists and other fancy stuff, as I dreamily cast my eyes upon the vast landscape far below.  Millions of people within the scope of my vision, all with their own little trials and tribulations, all traveling their own road this day, a fair number of them also pondering the ultimate meaning of it all.  In a carefee moment, I was left to reflect on the fate of my fellow earth mates, before clouds secured the scene and all context for thought was removed.

Ah  yes, back to the OBs. How impressive they appear,  a seemingly unbroken line that protects the mainland shore from harm, while providing people a get away to paradise.  In a way they resemble  nature's containment boom, like the ones used to protect land from the ravages of an oil spill.  So much sand, so many miles to walk, so many wonderful miles.

Looking at them makes you wonder  how they got there in the first place.  Seems like they were perfectly formed for their purpose, which leaves out any idea of a random piling up of broken sea creatures and rocks.  The same elements that deposited the Cape (Cod, of course) in its unique position and prominence also worked their logic and magic to form a perfect blend of utility and beauty, all for our protection and ultimate enjoyment.  Like the Cape, they will one day disappear, but luckily for all of us, that day will never be a concern of ours.

So, if you can't make the Cape, head for the Outer Banks. Revel in beauty.  Enjoy the moments, memorize the views.  Walk the sand, drink in the salt breeze.  Promise to return.  You don't have your whole life, you just think you do.
                                                                                                                                                                                         
Mark Twain Quote:  "We despise all reverences and all objects of reverence which are outside the pale of our list of sacred things.  And yet, with strange inconsistency, we are shocked when other people despise and defile the things which are holy to us."

Global What the…?

I recently returned from Florida, against my most instinctive judgment.  I awoke my first morning back, looked out the window, and saw…….snow falling.  In Spring.  In good old Syracuse.  Betting this a fluke, an aberration to my senses, I put on my happy Florida face and a mere 6 days later, traveled to Buffalo to see my daughter.  I swear I could smell flowers blooming and hear jubilant birds finding their voice once again.

 

Syracusans gone mad - March 2014

Thus I woke, on my last day there and saw….snow falling. Sideways. Lots of heavy, wet snow.  In Spring. In good old Buffalo. A mini blizzard.

Ah, Spring.  What I would want to write at this exact moment I can not. I know not the limits of the blog host, but I am afraid I would severely test them.  I might even be thrown off and asked never to return again.  Such is the fire in my pen and the rancor in my heart. I am way beyond “had it.”

So, here’s some stolen material to hopefully bring some sense of life back to the world, at least that part of the world hiding in the northeast United States. Stuff you probably don’t know, or even care about. Whimsical stuff, odd stuff, who cares stuff …. stuff to get our minds back to normal.

 

First mowing of Spring in Syracuse, NY

Men can read smaller print than women; women can hear better.

Coca-Cola was originally green.  (Uck!)

State with highest % of people who walk to work:  Alaska (well, when you don’t have roads)

Percentage of Africa that is wilderness:  28%

Percentage of North America that is wilderness:  38% (seriously..check that)

Cost of raising a medium size dog to the age of 11:  $16,400 (worth every penny)

Average number of people airborne over the U.S. in any given hour:  61,000

San Francisco cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.

Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4^th.  John Hancock and Charles Thomson.  The last signature was added 5 years later.  (The mail was awfully slow then)

Half of all Americans live within 50 miles of their birthplace.  (I’d check that one again)

 

The calendar says Spring - I'm going in!  Or maybe not!

In ancient times – for a month after the wedding, the bride’s father would supply his new son-in-law with all the mead he could drink.  Mead is a honey beer and because the calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the Honeymoon. (There are so many directions this could go in – ain’t love grand?)

England gave us many things, these two highly ranked among them.  In olde England, ale was ordered by pints and quarts.  When things got unruly, the barkeep yelled at people to “Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.”  Hence the saying:  “mind your P’s and Q’s”

Back to the olde pub (why not, after this winter).  Pub patrons had a whistle baked into the rim or handle of their ceramic cup.  When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service.  “Wet your whistle” is the phrase you’re thinking of for modern day use.

 

Spring fishing on Oneida Lake - 2014

If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter A ?  One thousand!

And last, but not least, an old favorite:  It is impossible to lick your elbow.  (and you all know this because you have all tried to do just that – but if you’re Gene Simmons, maybe, just maybe)

Mark Twain Quote:  “April Fool – this is the day upon which we are reminded of what we are on the other three hundred and sixty-four.”

Florida

Or, as my Italian neighbor, fresh from the old country, likes to say ….   Flor-duh.

God's waiting room.  Land of the killer power chair, and versatile walker, replete with cut off tennis balls to grease the skids, making it a dangerous speed machine.

Oh, Florida is all of this, but thankfully, much more as well.  It has younger folk and places to eat, or wet your whistle, or both.  They all get along rather well, but do not, I repeat, do not, under any circumstances, try to outrace a senior citizen from the parking lot to the door of a restaurant at 4PM, the official start of the "early bird special."  They will cut you off, cut you down, and block you out like you were made of paper mache. No football player could dispatch you faster.  Nothing, no, nothing will keep them from getting ahead of you in the seating line. Go ahead, try it, I dare you.  You'll see.

Anyway, that's where I am right now, in a desperate race to ditch my winter mood.  Find me a pool, or take me to a beach. Let the sun shine on me, and warm me, console me, heal me.  And just in case that's not quite enough, can you fetch me a beer, or a wine.

Mark Twain Quote: "Bermuda:  I said it was like being in Heaven.  The Reverend rebukingly and rather pointedly advised me to make the most of it then." (The same could be said of me and Florida, I suppose)