Day 5 in Captivity

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It’s as if the hand of God – Monty Python’s God – reached down and plucked me, kicking and screaming, from my life, my wife, and my daughter.

Ye shall not finish the gates for the picket fence this weekend.

Ye shall not attend the concert in Topanga on Friday.

But ye shall be locked in a small room and chained to a machine for 21 hours a day. Ha, ha, ha.

If given the choice between two weeks in jail or two weeks in a hospital, I’d have a hard time choosing. Would I have a private cell? I can’t imagine the food varies much, though if it were Mayberry and Aunt Bee were cooking, jail might look even better.

No one needs to listen to my breath signs six times a day behind bars, but I don’t worry about a shiv to the gut in the hospital, though there are infections, blood clots and other painful add-ons during the stay. Hard choice.

For the first time, we exotic animals have our own floor at the zoo, and a gym to ourselves. Huge kudos to the CF team here for making stays better for us hospital lifers.

This floor is quiet like a library, day and night. No 2 a.m. hallway conversations. No liver transplant teams clogging the way. No unpleasant smells that penetrate your mask and make you lose your appetite.

My room is gigantic and begs for a party. It’s a negative pressure room with a space-lock entry room. The main door is hard to open and makes a whoosh sound like opening a walk-in freezer. I thought the 100-year-old PCT was going to have a heart attack wrangling the scale through the double-door system.

I have a great view. And best of all I can see and hear the trains, which I love. I just added, “hop a train and ride it to Arizona,” to my bucket list because that’s what I think of when I watch them.

Run, Unknown, run.

Could I run fast enough to catch one? Doubtful, but if I could I would. I’d have my wife and daughter in a chase car, as I rode along listening to the sound of the wheels on the rails, breathing the fresh air (once we got out of LA). Destination: Phoenix hotel with a large pool and water slide.

Before I checked into this sterile bed and breakfast, I told the doctor I thought I had a thyroid or auto-immune problem. The blood tests came back and it looks like its door number two. More to come on this development.

Knock on wood that I all have to report is what I just wrote. They haven’t killed me yet, but I’ll let you know when they do.

Cystic Fibrosis: The Musical

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[Written on day two of my current hospital stay]

Sitting at the dinner table with my wife and daughter the night before my hospitalization, I came up with what is either the best or worst idea I’ve ever had: CF: The Musical.

I ran the idea past both of them, hoping to lighten the mood. But first I had to explain “irony” to my daughter. Then I broke into song (BTW, I can’t sing):

(In a super-happy Broadway show-tune style)
I’m going in the hospital.
I can’t wait. Yeah, yeah.
I am going in with one ailment,
but coming out with three or four,
oh joy, how nice – what a gift.
My lungs feel better, but now I can’t pee or see.

It went something like that.

Then I sang “The Phlebotomist” for her, after explaining its definition.

(Pretending to whip open the door and flick on the lights)
It’s 4:30 in the morning. Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?
I’m the Phlebotomist, and I’m here to draw your blood.
Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?
Nothing a dozen cans of Red Bull won’t cure.
Give me your arm, I’m going to poke another hole in it.
Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?
This will hurt but I’ll blame your vein if I screw up.
Mr. Wilson, I presume?
No? Oops, sorry. Wrong room.

Yeah, it went like that with my daughter and wife joining in. We sang about the weekend doctors who come to the door and ask you how you’re doing, but don’t want complicated answers and are there just to collect $300. And we sang about respiratory therapists.

And we had a laugh.

I know CF doesn’t feel like a laughing matter most days, or at all for many, but somedays there is no choice but to laugh away the darkness that hangs there, waiting.

CF: The Musical felt like a victory of the moment.

Addendum to yesterday’s post

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If I could really shape shift, I would look like Don Draper, but a lot happier.

If I could really shape shift, I would look like Don Draper, but a lot happier.

INT. Today’s CF Clinic appointment – morning

Nurse: Hi.

Unknown (wearing a yellow hospital mask): Hello.

Nurse: You’re looking good. So tan.

Unknown: Thank you.

Nurse: You’re not feeling well, huh?

Unknown: Nope.

Nurse pauses, looks at Unknown again.

Nurse: You look good. Your hair looks different, short. It’s nice.

Unknown: Thanks.

Nurse: I must have caught you after a haircut, huh?

Unknown: Yep

Nurses takes another look at Unknown.

Nurse: Are those new glasses?

Unknown: Yep.

Nurse: They look good. Very stylish.

Unknown: Thank you.

Yes, after writing yesterday’s post, this happened. A gift from the blogging gods!

I’m not sure I nailed the exact quotes, but I’m close. The nurse is super nice. And everything she said was complimentary. I could, however, detect that there was something about my appearance she couldn’t put her finger on. She just kept looking at me over and over. Kind of like I was . . . wait for it . . . a person she didn’t recognize. I am, after all, a master shape shifter.

And then I blew the lowest PFT I’ve ever blown in my life. HUGE FAIL. Tomorrow I go to jail for a dose of IV antibiotics and the most hated drug I’ve ever taken – oral steroids. Hello, hallucinations. Soon, I’ll really believe I can shape shift.

Happy, happy, joy, joy, it’s off to jail I go, where I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow . . . nothing down.

I’m a shape shifter (be thankful you’re not)

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Ah, my favorite self-portait photograph. I look the same each time you see me.

Ah, my favorite self-portait photograph. I look the same each time you see me.

If there is anything I don’t understand about human nature, it’s the propensity or desire to comment on a person’s looks when you greet them. I’m not talking about a “hey, you look great,” or other generic comment. I’m talking about something more specific – a detailed analysis or critical review of the way the person looks.

It’s happened to me most of my life.

I would understand if I gained 500 pounds thanks to a bacon-chocolate and Cheetos addiction, and it came as a surprise to the other person. Yes, I get it. Comment on how I look. I understand. I’m giant now, a man-sized Oreo. I have a problem. I’m quite different from the last time you saw me. Critique away. You have my blessing.

Or, what if I shaved my head and had a bright red target tattooed on my noggin? I might receive, and deserve, a comment or two. I get it.

But what I don’t understand are the people who comment on subtle differences in one’s looks – the proofreaders of human appearance.

“You look fantastic,” my business colleague said to me after an extended break from bumping into each other.

Now I’ve established that that’s a nice way to greet someone. Nothing wrong with it. Nice, perfectly delightful.

But he didn’t stop there, adding the tagline: “Yeah, the last time I saw you, you didn’t look so hot.”

Okay, rule number one after saying, “you look fantastic”: stop there. That’s a winning line. Nothing more need be said. You can only get in trouble if you add anything (especially if you’re a man speaking to a woman at work, which can only lead to a possible dismissal based on sexual harassment charges).  Again, you can only screw it up after the first compliment.

And this was dude to dude. Do we guys ever comment on each other’s looks when we meet – other than maybe a, “looking good, man.” “Yeah, thanks, man. Been hitting the weights hard, eating lean.”

The most recent comment: “You don’t look like the same person,” the carpenter helping me build my picket fence said to me after not seeing each other for 5 months, and for only the second time ever!

How is that possible? Not the same person? I guess it’s the 10K I spent in Argentina on a face transplant. And to think I thought no one would notice. 

Now, most normal people might ask for more detail: “Hey, what do you mean by that? Is that good or bad?” Not me.I don’t want to know because I either look bad now or at some point in the past. So, I don’t want to spend the day fretting about how I’m deteriorated since you saw me last, or how I looked like crap the last time.

I guess it’s just part of my life and the sign on my forehead that reads: Tell me how I look. Win a pony.

My daughter borrows my story

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I used this photo a year or two ago. Sorry. I’m tired and couldn’t find the one I wanted to post. I’ve been so busy lately and want to get a blog post out.

“Did you see her essay?” my wife asked. It was first thing in the morning.

“Essay? What essay?”

“You’re in it.”

“Really? Can’t wait to see it then.”

I found a draft on the computer.  I was mentioned along with my pal, cystic fibrosis. Great. Let’s tell the world.

It’s my secret and one I’ve done my best to keep on the down-low throughout my life. And my wife has done a good job supporting that, though it’s hard to hide it from your friends when you’re in the hospital three times a year.

And then there is my daughter.

I’ve been able to control my story over the years, but I can’t control hers. My story of CF becomes her unique story of CF. I can’t censor that.

So, here’s the essay. As a writer, I have to qualify it a bit: it’s a 5th grader’s draft on a tough subject, and I’m going to be in big trouble one day for posting it here, if she finds out before I’m dust in the wind.

“Prayer is Powerful”

            I believe prayer is powerful.  God does listen to us when we have a problem and comforts us.  I think that because I had an experience with prayer where I was very worried.

            My dad has Cystic Fibrosis and sometimes he has to go to the hospital.  I always feel sad and worried when he is there because my mom and I don’t know when he will come back.  Often I pray for a cure for his sickness.  God doesn’t always do things the way you think He will though.

            Once when he was in the hospital, they said he had to have a sinus surgery.  I was  a little scared for him because I didn’t know what would happen.  My mom and I went to the hospital so we could be there when they finished the surgery.  I prayed for my dad that the surgery would help him.  When they finished, they let us see him, and he was fine!  I was so happy that he was ok.  About a few days later, they let him come home.  He still has to go to the hospital sometimes, but he always comes back healthy.

            I think that prayer does help.  God might not do what you prayed for, but He always helps in some way.  Prayer also comforts me because I feel like someone does care up there.  If you trust in God and pray, good things will happen.

            Prayer really helps me when my dad is away.  I think prayer is spiritually and physically refreshing.  It’s good to know there is always someone watching over you and listening.  Even if you aren’t religious, it never hurts to pray. 

How NOT to build a linen-closet door

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Dear Linen-Closet Door,

I forgive you.

Yes, you fought me during every step of the build, but it’s all over now. I’m done with you, and you’re where you’re supposed to be, attached to a frame, and hiding towels and bathroom supplies.

But what a battle it was.

Respect, 

Unknown

When I remodeled one of our bathrooms, which was a crazy project, I built some shelving outside the door. This was four years ago. I finally got tired of looking at the mess and decided to build a door to hide it.

When I remodeled one of our bathrooms, which was a crazy project that took me six months, I built some shelving outside the bathroom door. This was four years ago. I finally got tired of looking at the mess and decided to build a door to hide it.

First mistake: I used poplar. It's soft and when I look at in the wrong way, it dents. In the end, it came out okay, but I would never use this wood again. I drilled pocket holes and glued the joints. I probably didn't need all of the pocket holes. In fact, I own a router now so I can join wood easier than the way I did for this project. Yay.

First mistake: I used poplar. It’s so soft that just looking at it the wrong way causes it to dent. In the end, it came out okay, but I would never use this wood again. I apologize to Pine and Maple for not using them instead. 
I drilled pocket holes and glued the joints. I probably didn’t need all of the pocket holes. In fact, I own a router table and glue joint bit now so I can join wood easier than the way I did for this project. No more pocket holes for projects like this one.

I didn't have enough pipe clamps so I borrow some from a neighbor. I made another mistake here by not clamping the ends with wood pieces, which will keep the ends even and won't let them warp. Oops. Another mistake. And my door is a little warped because I didn't know this step.

I didn’t have enough pipe clamps so I borrowed some from a neighbor. I made another mistake here by not clamping the ends with wood pieces, which keeps the ends even and reduces warping. I learned this after the glue-up phase. Oops. Another mistake. And my door is a little warped because I didn’t know this step. Also, I hand cut and glued contrasting walnut plugs for each pocket hole.

After I took the boards out of the clamps, I noticed the sides weren't flush and has some mall gaps. So, I made a rabbet cut on each edge and cut small pieces of bubinga, rosewood and pine for the inlay groves. My daughter designed the layout.

Before I glued the boards together, I noticed the sides weren’t flush and had some small gaps when placed next to each other. So, I made a rabbet cut on each edge and cut small pieces of bubinga, rosewood and pine for the inlay groves. My daughter designed the layout.

I poured glue in the groups and we placed the inlay pieces. I added too much glue to the first joint and made the mistake of wiping it when it was wet. I should have let it dry and chipped it off. Notice the inlay sticking up above the wood. I had to take my flush cutter and cut the excess off of each piece. That was a joy. I'll take better measurements next time.

I poured glue in the grooves and we placed the inlay pieces. I added too much glue to the first joint and made the mistake of wiping it when it was wet. I should have let it dry and chipped it off later. Instead I rubbed it into the wood. Rookie error.
Notice the inlay sticking up above the wood. I had to take my flush cutter and cut the excess off of each piece. That was a joy. Some of the pine was too low. I’ll take better measurements next time.

This was the most heartbreaking mistake I made. And I almost gave up. I was tired and impatient and decided to use the router by hand and not on the router table. Oops, big slip. Edge ruined. Goodbye overlay door, hello inset door. That's right. I cut off an equal amount from each side and a little off the top and made it fit inside the closet opening.

This was the most heartbreaking mistake I made. And it almost caused me to give up. I was tired and impatient and decided to use the router by hand and not on the router table. Oops, big slip. Edge ruined. Goodbye overlay door, hello inset door. That’s right. I cut off an equal amount from each side and a little off the top and made it fit inside the closet opening, not over it.

Ah, hubris. To think I was ready to use Tung Oil. It's not that hard according to the instructions. Apply it, rub it in, wait 15 minutes and wife off excess. 10 coats later, it got a little shiny but not where I wanted it. And worse of all I had to wait 24 hours between coats. Back to shellac for me.

Ah, hubris. To think I was ready to use Tung Oil. It’s not that hard according to the instructions. Apply it, rub it in, wait 15 minutes and wife off excess. 10 coats later, it got a little shiny but not where I wanted it. And worse of all I had to wait 24 hours between coats. Back to shellac for me. Or Briwax.

Here's the finished door mounted with four soft-close hinges. It came out okay. I'll replace the painted wood boarder in about 4 years or so.

Here’s the finished door after 10 coats of Tung Oil. I hung it with four soft-close hinges. It came out okay. I’ll replace the painted wood border in about 4 years or so. This project was about the lessons learned, not the finished product.

I originally had the frog heads up but then realized the door reminded me of Frogger. Sideways he went to cross the road.

I originally had the frog heads up but then realized the door reminded me of Frogger. Sideways he went to cross the road and avoid getting smashed by traffic. That’s it. On to other projects, like replacing a painted closet door with one like this. Thanks for reading.

Dear Unknown,

You suck.

Sincerely,

Linen-Closet Door

All work and no play, or blogging

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This is fun with hypertonic saline at a hotel. The sun was coming in the window and I thought it was cool looking to blow into the light. Yes, I have problems, like having to get up early on business trips to do treatments.

This is fun with hypertonic saline at a hotel. The sun was coming in the window and I thought it was cool looking to blow into the light. Yes, I have problems, like having to get up early on business trips to do treatments.

I just finished two back-to-back work trips. Drove for both of them as I haven’t been on a plane in . . . a long time. So long I don’t remember.

Bad things happen to me on planes. But I do miss going places on business and with my family. We do, however, seem to find plenty of local places to drive to and still have a boatload of fun.

I do miss going to Hawaii. And I’d like to go to England to see a soccer game with a couple of friends, then get arrested and spend the night in an English jail. How cool would that be? Would I get “the rack”?

When I saw the date of my last post, I couldn’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve written anything. I know why blogs die off. It takes a lot of energy to keep them going. I’m in year four. Yay.

So, what’s new to report on. Looks like a good chunk of my lung function isn’t coming back. I’m hovering around 50%. It seems like I went from 70 to 50 overnight, but that’s not true. It took some years to do it. I fought every step of the way. However, whereas my PFT chart use to contain flowing, smooth hills and valleys, it now looks like an earthquake graph. Up and down, up and down, but mostly down.

I had to work during my daughter’s spring break. Not much choice, but I felt bad. It’s always a balance between keeping the job that pays well and gives great benefits and spending time with my wife and daughter.

I’ve also been building a linen closet door. It’s the door from hell and has schooled me, and beat me, and perplexed me throughout the process.  I almost gave up. But I’ve learned a lot of lessons, and that has value. I added my ninth coat of Tung oil tonight and will never use the stuff again. Back to shellac. I’ll post some pictures next week.

That’s it. I’m here, breathing. I woke up today, which is always a huge win. The rest is a bonus.

Craigslist find: Two driftwood benches

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My wife, daughter, and I search for driftwood when we go to the beach. So far, we’ve had little luck. We found a 1-foot piece but I left it on our back patio to dry off and our black lab chewed it to pieces. Then we found a nice, hefty 2-foot chunk when we stayed at the Marriott in Ventura. I hid it in the parking lot because it was wet and smelled. Then it rained overnight and soaked the wood, strengthening its odor and increasing its number of flies. So we abandoned it in the parking lot and drove home.

This piece was ginormous. Around 8 feet long. I would have needed a crane or team of vikings to lift it up and get it home.

This piece was ginormous. Around 10 feet long. I would have needed a crane or team of vikings to lift it up and get it home.

Then we discovered a giant piece of driftwood that looked like a dinosaur fossil, (pictured to the right), but I couldn’t figure out a way to get it home.

This makes us 0 for 3 when it comes to driftwood hunting.

Until today when I hit the mother lode of driftwood – on Craigslist.

My Craigslist app beeped and showed two driftwood benches in my city. $25 each or $40 for both.

40 bucks? Seriously? For giant pieces of driftwood? Bargain alert.

This bench is 7-feet wide and heavy. But oh what a piece of wood it is. Or pieces of wood.

This bench is 7-feet wide and heavy. But oh what a piece of wood it is. Or pieces of wood.

I believe in luck and making your own. No hesitation, I called the seller and told him I’d buy both benches. At lunchtime, my neighbor in tow, I was at his house with $40.

Lesson learned today about large pieces of driftwood: they weigh a friggin’ ton. It took all three of us to lift the large bench down a flight of outdoor steps – one step at a time. Then we had to lift it up and into the bed of my friend’s pick-up truck.

The seller was super nice. He said he received several calls after mine, and a couple of people offered him more. And he didn’t say this next part, but he still honored the deal and didn’t sell to the other caller. I respect that in this today’s world of “anything for a buck.”

This is the small bench. It's almost 5-feet long and takes two people to lift it.

This is the small bench. It’s almost 5-feet long and takes two people to lift it.

I looked up driftwood benches when I got home. I found one that was similar and sold for $600. Now I feel guilty about the great deal I got.

Should I?

I am thinking of sending the guy a thank you note and $20 in the mail he can put in his son’s college fund. I know. I’m nuts. But if I ever wanted to sell these, I could make a good chunk of change. 

What would you do?

When did Disneyland get so expensive?

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We had a rip-roaring good time at Disneyland and California Adventure on Monday. Perfect weather, reasonable lines, fantastic new Cars Land, and plenty of fun, fun, fun.

Then I did the math.

Here is some of the damage done to our bank account. But it was worth it. We just won't be going as often as we'd like.

Here is some of the damage done to our bank account. But it was worth it. We just won’t be going as often as we’d like.

Holy Empty Wallet, Batman.

My chest. The pain, like there’s a giant mouse sitting on it. 

Here’s the math: $375 for parkhopper passes for three; $15 to park. $3.75 for a churro, which, according to a Disney fanatic and Churro lover standing in line, just shot up in price from $3.50 a week ago. (I know some princesses – or Disney shareholders – who are going to get new dresses.)

More math: Locker rental was . . . hmm, they don’t print it on the receipt . . . $7? Add 10.98 for two Mickey Mouse Pretzels for my wife and daughter (ketchup and mustard were free and all you could eat). Lunch for me: $15.

Endless bottles of water during the day: I don’t remember, but I don’t think they were “out of the park” expensive.

Even more math: Minnie Mouse headband for my daughter, $15. Dinner: $50. A “free” stuffed Bullseye my daughter won by rolling balls into holes faster than half-a-dozen strangers did only cost me $30 on the gaming card to win it.

And at the end of the night, 50 more dollars for Goofy Gummies, cookies, gourmet marshmallows, and Mickey Mouse gingerbread mice for the ride home up the 5 freeway, which is the nastiest freeway to travel before and after going to the pleasant confines of the Magic Kingdom.

I would appreciate it if Disney would buy all of the properties next to the 5 freeway and sprinkle some Imagineer Magic on them.

So, taking into account that I lost some receipts, my grand total was over $550 for the day.

“Let the Memories Begin” is printed on the receipts. I get it. We have great memories of the day, but this is the first time I have memories of what we spent.

I so miss Disney’s recession pricing.

I build a bench from reclaimed wood

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[Please note that proper safety equipment is a must for projects such as this, especially when using Liquid Plumr, and the reader is responsible for his or her own safety, as there is no expert advice here.]

I built a wood bench and this is how every step of the project went: Oh, s**t, I messed that up. Damn, how did I screw that up? Oops. Oh, no, how did I make that mistake. ARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH. 

Yep, that’s pretty much how the project went. I don’t have the expensive tools they do on TV shows, or the skills, so I have to improvise. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

However, at the very end of the project, when I had the bench upside down and assembled, I carefully lifted it off the saw horses and placed it upright for the first time and felt a great sense of relief upon seeing it: Wow, that turned out a lot better than I expected. Hey, that looks pretty good. All is forgotten, wicked bench. 

I applied the apple-cider vinegar and stainless steel stain I used on the table I refinished.. I also waxed each piece with Briwax clear before assembly.

Here are some photos.

Here is the raw wood I began with. It's at least 50 years old and very heavy and dense. The piece on the bottom is one of the legs. I thought I was going to have the trestle go through the legs at first. I drilled the holes and then chiseled out the wood. I thought, "this isn't that hard." Then I flipped the board over and noticed that I'd split the wood from trying to do all of the chiseling from on side. I should have gone halfway down, then flipped the board over and repeated. Oops. Argh. Damn.

Here is some of the raw wood I began with. I found it in my mother-in-law’s house before we sold it. It’s at least 50 years old and very heavy and dense. The piece on the bottom is one of the legs. I thought I was going to have the trestle go through the legs at first. I drilled the holes and then chiseled out the wood. I thought, “this isn’t that hard.” Then I flipped the board over and noticed that I’d split the wood from trying to do all of the chiseling from one side. I should have gone halfway down, then flipped the board over and repeated. Oops. Argh. Damn.

I used my apple cider vinegar and steel wool stain again. However, I messed up the ratio of liquid plumr to water and the stain came out very light on the first coat. The next picture shows the other side of the board.

I sand with 100 and 180-grit sandpaper, then used my apple-cider vinegar and steel wool stain again. However, I messed up the ratio of Liquid Plumr to water and the stain came out very light on the first coat. The next picture shows the other side of the board and how different the same stain can look.

This photo shows how sanding and a lack of Liquid Plumr can change the look of the same wood. I didn't spend as much time on this side and I didn't use Liquid Plumr. I really thought this side looked interesting and was going to use it as the top side until my daughter and wife voted against it. They liked the other side because it matched the table I refinished. They made the right choice.

This photo shows how minimal sanding and a lack of Liquid Plumr can change the look of the same wood. I didn’t spend as much time on this side and I didn’t use Liquid Plumr. I really thought this side looked interesting and was going to use it as the top side until my daughter and wife voted against it. They liked the other side because it matched the table I refinished. They made the right choice.

Here are the legs. They came out darker. Again, same stain, but slightly different look. I used my Kreg pocket hole jig to attach the legs and trestle.

Here are the legs. They came out grayish. Again, same stain, but slightly different look. I used my Kreg pocket hole jig to attach the legs and trestle. I used wood plugs to hide the holes and unless you look closely at the finished bench, you’d never notice them.

To darken the top, I used four coats of the stain. There's nothing like old wood. It's heavy and the grain pattern is much better than newer wood.

To darken the top, I used four coats of stain. Then I used Briwax clear, of course, and a beautiful brown shade appeared. Perfect. There’s nothing like old wood. It’s heavy and the grain pattern is much better than newer wood.

Here is the finished bench. The trestle is reclaimed wood that is over 100 years old and came from a railroad repair station in Los Angeles. I used most of it for a countertop in our house and this was a scrap I had left over.

Here is the finished bench with three coats of Briwax clear. The trestle is reclaimed wood that is over 100 years old and came from a railroad repair station in Los Angeles. I used most of it for a countertop in our house and this was a spare piece I had left over.

Here is the bench next to the table I refinished. It fit perfectly. And having a bench is cool. My daughter likes it and the table gets a lot more use now.

Here is the bench next to the table I refinished. It fit perfectly. And having a bench is cool. My daughter likes it and the table gets a lot more use now, as you can see from the mess on it.