Hello Fellow Travelers!
I was all ready to write on a topic that has held my attention for awhile now: Zombies: Does it hurt my feelings that imaginary zombies would reject my brain? Or is it one less thing to worry about? Then this happened.
Our largest TV carries Netflix on the remote. So we watch a lot of Netflix. We watched "Breaking Bad" and started watching "The Walking Dead", I wanted to see how the primary character became the leader. The primary character was a sheriff's deputy and he was in a hospital recovering from a gunshot wound. That should be enough for anybody but one day he wakes up and figures out the hospital is deserted. So, he drags himself, wounds and all, (he's still bleeding) out of the hospital and that's when the fun really starts!
I watched "Breaking Bad" on Netflix and the same thing happened. This seemingly average guy gets horrible news and it changes all his priorities and perceptions. I finally figured out why these series are so watchable for me (or were): "Breaking Bad" and "The Walking Dead" center around lead characters dealing with extreme circumstances (cancer, gunshot wounds) anyway and then get thrown a curve that throws those extreme concerns right out of the window. Being treated for cancer seems inconsequential when the extremely violent drug cartel is after you! Gunshot wounds are nothing compared to zombies walking around the hospital! Presumably looking for brains. Not mine. I'll wear a name tag "Abbey Normal".
And what about Tom Cruise in "War of the Worlds"? He's a seemingly normal single dad trying forge some kind of relationship with his daughter and son. And then the aliens attacked from below and above and all Tom's normal concerns flew out the window, along with many of his neighbors. Having a "civil" relationship with your Ex isn't even in your top ten list when aliens are turning your neighbors into fine powder! His first instinct is to get out of town! So again, we have a normal person dealing with average concerns and then all hell (H?) breaks loose and he has to manage a whole new set of issues. Aliens. WTH? Juggling chainsaws, is how I metaphorically think of it. Tom's character, Walter White, Deputy What's-his-name, all,juggling chainsaws.
What do these aliens ultimately do? Just when things get really interesting (or hopeless depending on how you look at it) they stop and die. It's never explained why (and by then, you don't care, they're gone and that's all that's important) they die but they do and he gets his daughter (Dakota Fanning) to his Ex.
This juggling of running chainsaws is what I can relate to. I had plenty of normal concerns before someone (God) decided to start throwing chainsaws at me. So now I'm fully committed to juggling chainsaws and Patient Spouse keeps them running and full of gas. What I mean is that the bizarre circumstances in which I now find myself obliterated most of my previous concerns and reshaped the others.
And I'm maxed out on stress! Even a comparatively small injury is more than I can handle. The four chainsaws I'm currently keeping airborne are all I can deal with. Last week I was told by UCSF's head of Neurology that he had no ideas. No new ideas or old ideas, or any. Now that wasn't an answer I'd even considered. I guess I had expected a tangible solution (something along the lines of ,"Oh, we see this all the time! Here's what we'll do:). Since I was given the medical equivalent of "I dunno", I will persevere on my own, I doubled my efforts at rehabbing.
I am determined to walk by St. Patrick's Day. I neither know or care when I'll speak again. ( Yes, I know that would make some people very happy, if I just shut the hell up. To those people I say,"Never!" and "Oh, really, well, nuts to you too because I already have a Speech Therapist!")
For all of you who wish me well (and I hope that's most of you), thank you and I'll keep you posted on my progress. The photo this week is my father in Cordova, Alaska in 1955, holding a couple of furry friends, and he will celebrate his 81st birthday in April. I hope to celebrate it with him.
PS - Am I the only person who found The US Postal Service and UPS's excuses for not delivering packages and cards on or before December 25th especially lame? Both used the following excuse; Ready? "We had too much mail." Really. They said that. I kid you not. And I'm the one with the brain injury. Isn't it the primary function of both services to deliver cards and packages? By Christmas? And wouldn't both services, oh, I don't know, expect a lot of extra mail in the month of December? Wouldn't December be like, oh, their busiest time of year? Year after year? "Too much mail?" Isn't that like McDonalds' running out of French fries or Budweiser running out of beer? "Too much mail!" Come On! There are exactly two reasons why women tolerate those brown trucks: (1) They usually bring something good and (2) Their delivery drivers wear those cute, brown shorts. And that's about it. The Postal Service was established and is maintained by our Government to deliver mail and that is it. That's all they have to do. Move the mail around, get it from point (A) to point (B), that's it. So I don't ever want to hear ridiculous claims like there was "too much mail" as the excuse issued to customers for late deliveries in December. Because that would be like saying "there is too much Christmas", or something equally silly in December.
I was all ready to write on a topic that has held my attention for awhile now: Zombies: Does it hurt my feelings that imaginary zombies would reject my brain? Or is it one less thing to worry about? Then this happened.
Our largest TV carries Netflix on the remote. So we watch a lot of Netflix. We watched "Breaking Bad" and started watching "The Walking Dead", I wanted to see how the primary character became the leader. The primary character was a sheriff's deputy and he was in a hospital recovering from a gunshot wound. That should be enough for anybody but one day he wakes up and figures out the hospital is deserted. So, he drags himself, wounds and all, (he's still bleeding) out of the hospital and that's when the fun really starts!
I watched "Breaking Bad" on Netflix and the same thing happened. This seemingly average guy gets horrible news and it changes all his priorities and perceptions. I finally figured out why these series are so watchable for me (or were): "Breaking Bad" and "The Walking Dead" center around lead characters dealing with extreme circumstances (cancer, gunshot wounds) anyway and then get thrown a curve that throws those extreme concerns right out of the window. Being treated for cancer seems inconsequential when the extremely violent drug cartel is after you! Gunshot wounds are nothing compared to zombies walking around the hospital! Presumably looking for brains. Not mine. I'll wear a name tag "Abbey Normal".
And what about Tom Cruise in "War of the Worlds"? He's a seemingly normal single dad trying forge some kind of relationship with his daughter and son. And then the aliens attacked from below and above and all Tom's normal concerns flew out the window, along with many of his neighbors. Having a "civil" relationship with your Ex isn't even in your top ten list when aliens are turning your neighbors into fine powder! His first instinct is to get out of town! So again, we have a normal person dealing with average concerns and then all hell (H?) breaks loose and he has to manage a whole new set of issues. Aliens. WTH? Juggling chainsaws, is how I metaphorically think of it. Tom's character, Walter White, Deputy What's-his-name, all,juggling chainsaws.
What do these aliens ultimately do? Just when things get really interesting (or hopeless depending on how you look at it) they stop and die. It's never explained why (and by then, you don't care, they're gone and that's all that's important) they die but they do and he gets his daughter (Dakota Fanning) to his Ex.
This juggling of running chainsaws is what I can relate to. I had plenty of normal concerns before someone (God) decided to start throwing chainsaws at me. So now I'm fully committed to juggling chainsaws and Patient Spouse keeps them running and full of gas. What I mean is that the bizarre circumstances in which I now find myself obliterated most of my previous concerns and reshaped the others.
I am determined to walk by St. Patrick's Day. I neither know or care when I'll speak again. ( Yes, I know that would make some people very happy, if I just shut the hell up. To those people I say,"Never!" and "Oh, really, well, nuts to you too because I already have a Speech Therapist!")
For all of you who wish me well (and I hope that's most of you), thank you and I'll keep you posted on my progress. The photo this week is my father in Cordova, Alaska in 1955, holding a couple of furry friends, and he will celebrate his 81st birthday in April. I hope to celebrate it with him.
PS - Am I the only person who found The US Postal Service and UPS's excuses for not delivering packages and cards on or before December 25th especially lame? Both used the following excuse; Ready? "We had too much mail." Really. They said that. I kid you not. And I'm the one with the brain injury. Isn't it the primary function of both services to deliver cards and packages? By Christmas? And wouldn't both services, oh, I don't know, expect a lot of extra mail in the month of December? Wouldn't December be like, oh, their busiest time of year? Year after year? "Too much mail?" Isn't that like McDonalds' running out of French fries or Budweiser running out of beer? "Too much mail!" Come On! There are exactly two reasons why women tolerate those brown trucks: (1) They usually bring something good and (2) Their delivery drivers wear those cute, brown shorts. And that's about it. The Postal Service was established and is maintained by our Government to deliver mail and that is it. That's all they have to do. Move the mail around, get it from point (A) to point (B), that's it. So I don't ever want to hear ridiculous claims like there was "too much mail" as the excuse issued to customers for late deliveries in December. Because that would be like saying "there is too much Christmas", or something equally silly in December.
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