Fragile Tim

The following is an actual conversation that took place during luch:

Karen: “What is that smell?”

Larry: “Lasagna”

Karen: “Lasagna?”

Larry:  “Lasagna”

Karen: “Eew that’s nasty”

Larry:  “Hey Tim, Karen thinks your food smells nasty”

Tim:  "OK, I'll eat this in the conference room."

Karen: “That’s Tim’s?  I thought it was your food”

Larry:  “Nope;  Tim’s”

Karen: “Now I feel bad”

Larry:  “Why is it ok to say things about MY food but you feel bad if you say the same things about Tim’s food?”

Tom:    “Maybe Tim is fragile.”

Larry:  ”Hey Tim.  Are you fragile?”

Tim:    “Yes.  Fragile.  Definitely fragile.”

First Game Back

We were not sure how it would go. From the email we received from the team manager earlier in the week, we knew the team would be sporting a bit of a different look for the duration of their season. 

A few days earlier, I burned a CD for my son with all the pics and videos from his ordeal the previous weekend. I had included some video of his game the day before he was injured. He said he was ok to watch the hockey footage so I considered that a test to guage whether he would also be okay as a spectator while his team played without him. 

We did not have to get him there as early as when he had to dress to play, but we could have left the house earlier than we did. As a result, we arrived at the State Fair Coliseum after the game had started. It was a few minutes into the first period. We found a spot amid the well-wishing parents who indicated how glad they were to see Matt getting around. We shared the story about what we went through from the injury through the emergency surgery as we watched the game.

For a good part of Matt's life, he has seemed to be making a statement. Now, at 6'-6-1/2", it is difficult to miss him. In addition to his height, he has a flair for fashion. He has cultivated a look. It is more than the mostly black articles of clothing thing. It includes the finger-less gloves and the studded belts and all that but there is something else. Something unique to Matt. Aside from the fact that it happens to be his favorite color, I figure the most likely reason this tall lanky teenage guy wears pink wrist bands and pink laces on his skates is to prove a point. These, along with the pink skate blade guards, pink lanyards and pink whatever he can get his hands on, all scream "WE ARE ALL EQUALS ON THIS PLANET AND WE CAN ALL GET ALONG AND THERE IS NO REASON TO DISCRIMINATE AGAINST ANYONE BASED ON HOW THEY LOOK ON THE OUTSIDE!" Or maybe he just wants to get a rise out of people. Either way, you will always see pink whenever you see Matt.

It is important to explain this because, what we saw while watching the game was how the rest of the team was making their own statement about Matt. The team uniforms are mostly black with some white and red, but that day, there was an additional color that had been added to their helmets.  

Most of them had a  simple stripe while a couple players went so far as adding tape to form Matt's number, "00". It was all done in pink tape. The color that is unique to Matt was ever-present on the rest of the team that

day. The coaches noticed that Matt was a spectator at the game and during the intermission between the first and second period, suggested the team skate across the ice to where Matt stood to acknowledge him and indicate they were glad to see he was okay. All Matt's teammates, with the pink tape applied to their head gear, slapped the ice with there sticks and waved to him. He smiled and waved back. It was a moment.

When he played hockey, Matt had very physical style. He enjoyed playing the game as he felt it was intended to be. As a defenseman, Matt knew that checking could be as effective as knocking the puck away with your stick or stealing it and skating away. But a consequence of a more physical style of play was a greater chance of getting whistled for a penalty. As a result, Matt garnered more than his share of time in the penalty box during the eleven or so years he embraced the game.

The game this day was ugly and several "game" penalties were earned as Matt's teammates reacted to the numerous late hits after the whistle from the opposing team by getting more physical than the rules allow. It was a fitting though unintended tribute to the tall kid wearing his "00" jersey and standing near the penalty box for most of the game.  

Matt's Hockey Injury

It started as a normal Sunday, with a few modifications. Instead of going straight to Starbucks, I let her sleep and went to pick up a few items from the grocery store. Then I prepared ham and eggs with home fries for breakfast.

Then it was off to solve the Jumble and hang out at the Armory Square Starbuck's until it was time to take the lad to his hockey game.

I prepared the over easy eggs and toast that he asked for before we left.  Who knew that would be the only thing he would eat for the day.   There was just about enough time for him to eat before we had to leave for the game. 

We have been taking the our son to hockey games since he was 6 or 7 years old. In 3 months he will be 19. In three months he will have the outward appearance of a healthy young person once again.

It was the second period. His team was down two goals to none. It happened right in front of us, away from the boards, just inside the blue line. He has been coached to crouch down and get low when he checks. Otherwise he risks drawing 2 minutes for a hit to the head. That is what happens when a youth hockey player is 6'-6-1/2" tall. He has executed these hits for a few years since sprouting in adolescence to his current height.

This time it was different. We watched as he crouched low and made a clean hit on the kid from the opposing team with the puck. But instead of coming out of the hit and skating away toward a loose puck, he went down in pain. He lay there on the ice as the coaches approached to see what was wrong. We have witnessed this scene many times. Most times the player is helped to his feet and skates away as the players from both teams strike the ice with their sticks to acknowledge the player is ok.

The coaches helped him to his feet this time too. But as he skated toward the bench we noticed something was off. He was struggling to maintain his balance.

He sat on the bench for less than a minute then headed for the locker room with the help of one of his coaches. I headed for the locker room too to find out what was wrong. After telling the coach that I would stay with him, I watched as he got out of his gear and got dressed. He was still having trouble maintaining his balance. When I asked if he was ok he said he was, but he said his neck hurt. He said he didn't want to go to the hospital. He said he didn't want to have to wear one of those neck brace things.

We put the equipment in the car then headed back to watch the rest of the game. His team lost 3-2 and we took him home to shower before getting him medical treatment to find out what was going on with his balance and what was causing the neck pain.

The game was over a little past 3:30 pm and we made it to Crouse Hospital Prompt Care around 4:30 pm. I stayed in the waiting room when they called his name and my wife and Carolyn, his girl friend went in with him to the examination room. At some point I looked up to see my wife walking in from the door to the outside. I asked her how she did that.

That's when I first heard that my son's condition was a bit more serious than a little neck pain that some anti-inflammatory meds and rest would take care of.

 X-rays they took showed something so they had taken him across the street to the hospital thru the tunnel for a cat scan. We headed over and met him in the emergency room where we would spend the rest of the night and half the morning.

 

When they were in the examination room, they put a cervical collar on him to immobilize his neck and head and his girlfriend took a picture of him with her phone. She sent it to Evan, one of his closest friends who called me to find out where he was. He told me he was coming over. After we had been in the emergency room for a half hour or so my phone rang and i met his friend at the entrance to the hospital.

And we waited. We waited for word from the doctor about what the cat scan revealed. A few hours later, the doctor stopped in to inform us that he was scheduling an MRI. The cat scan had revealed two fractured vertebrae, a problem that needed further investigation. At that time we were told that there were two probable forms of treatment for this type of injury. One was to wear a cervical collar for an extended period of time and the other was surgery. We were hoping that he would not need surgery.

Within a half hour we followed the technician who had been called in from home to the room where they recorded numerous images of the injury. We all stayed in the adjoining room while Matt was slid inside the MRI as the technician sat at her computer that operated the machine. From time to time she would talk into a microphone to ask how he was holding up. He was fascinated by all the sounds emanating from the confines of the device and made it thru the lengthy procedure.

After that it was back to the emergency room to wait some more.

We waited for the neurosurgeon to finish the emergency surgery at the adjacent hospital so he could review the images of Matt's neck and advise us.

Soon it was past midnight and still we waited. It was near 2 in the morning before the doctor arrived. He ran Matt thru a series of physical tests to evaluate before breaking the news.

His name was Dr. Li and he spoke with a heavy asian accent. He explained to us that there were fractures to 2 vertebrae in his neck. They number the vertebrae and his fractures were on the right side of number 3 & 4. In addition they were also out of alignment. There was some damage to the discs between 3 & 4 and 4 & 5. The only option was to go in to surgically correct the problem and bring the vertebrae back in alignment.

The procedure was deemed to be emergency surgery and he was scheduled to go under the knife the next day at 3 pm. He said he could show us the images. We followed him down the corridor to a room with a couple computers. He talked on the phone while bringing up the views of Matt's neck.

We were processing and trying to find a way out of the surgery but the reality was sinking in. I felt myself beginning to lose my grip. My wife said I looked pale.

After asking as many questions as we could think of, we headed back to tell Matt what had to be done. He had a rough time accepting this reality but we assured him we would be there to help him thru this. He kept saying that he just wanted to go home.

By 3 am he was admitted and lie in a bed on the 6th floor, room 6018. I left to get some sleep and my wife stayed with Carolyn and Evan. In 12 hours, our son was to go under the knife. The ER nurse had pulled us aside to assure us that this surgery was very common and we shouldn't worry. Until this was over, all we could do was our best to follow that advice. This whole episode was very scary.

In the morining, after bringing Kathy home to shower, we returned to the hospital. As we were waiting for the elevator in the parking garage we noticed two people walking toward us. It was Ron, one of Matt's coaches and his wife Pam. We all got on the elevator and headed over to the hospital across the street.

We planned enough time so we could talk with the surgeon before the procedure. He arrived shortly after we did. He explained how the surgery was necessary and we double-checked that there were no other options. He said they had told him to be ready around 2:30, but after he left the room, we again waited.

In the meantime we all visited with Matt and helped keep his spirits up.

Carolyn, Drew, Evan and Brenda were there with the rest of us. (Pay no attention to the one with middle finger tourette syndrome; he means well.)

After being told several times that someone would be there to take Matt to the surgical suite on the first floor, it wasn't until after 4 p.m. that the gurney arrived to transfer him. Luis introduced himself and pushed Matt down the corridor.

They allowed 2 people to accompany him in pre-op. Kathy and I waited with Matt as a whole gang of people gathered around him, preparing him for surgery. A step by step description of how they would proceed was offered by a woman with a Jesus tatoo on her wrist. The man who would monitor Matt's nervous system throughout the surgery mentioned how he had a son a couple years younger than Matt who also played hockey. Two anesthesiologists explained what their role would be.

When it was time, we walked a few steps down the corridor with him until they turned and pushed him into surgery. We told him we would see him in a couple hours. Then we headed through the next set of doors, around the corner and down the hall to the waiting area. We expected to find Matt's friends and his coach but there was no one. So we went down to the cafeteria and had some dinner.

After dinner we made our way back up to the waiting area and sooon after that Ron and Pam walked in and sat down. They stayed with us the whole time Matt was in surgery. Kathy left several times to walk up to the third floor where Matthew's friends had gathered to wait. She would let them know any news as we were informed. Sometime after the surgery began, Stephanie arrived.

The 3 p.m. start time was moved to 4:30 then we found out it did not start until almost 5:30. A friendly nurse stopped by to advise us of the change and suggested we figure on 2 hours from that time.

It was a few minutes longer than that when Dr. Neckrysh walked in to explain how the procedure didn't go exactly as planned but still went well and that Matt was, at that time waking up in the operating room.

Instead of removing the discs between vertebrae 3 & 4 and 4 & 5, there was a complication and they had to remove on of the vertebrae and insert a plastic cage to fill in the space before screwing in the titanium plate to pull his bones back into alignment. At first he described this in medical terms and asked kathy if she understood what he was saying. Without hesitating, she said no, she didn't. Stephanie was there so she provided a pen and paper for the doctor to show us what he was talking about.

A short while later, we were allowed to stop into post-op to say hello to Matt. Seeing him awake was the best feeling. The room was busy so we had to leave right away. While we waited outside the room, they wheeled Matt out and into the elevator to get another cat scan. We were asked to meet him up in his room. They were moving him to 6016, a two-bed room without another patient,  so his friends could stay with him that night.

After waiting perhaps another half hour or so we watched him being brought into his room. When they transferred him into his bed we were all asked to wait outside the room. After another ten minutes or so we all gathered around his bed and visited.

We told Matt that the doctor had done a John Madden to explain the change in the surgery and showed him the doctor's drawing in Stephanie’s pad. Matt took the pad and drew a row of x's inder a row of o's. Then he said, while drawing a line and an arrow, They should line up like this; that way this guy can sack the quarterback." We noticed that his voice was slightly deeper and slightly more nasal than it had been before and he sounded just a bit loopy as the anesthesia had not totally worn off. The doctor had explained to us the night before how sometimes the quality of the voice is affected by this surgery.

 

Evan, Carolyn, Kathy, Stephanie and I were there. (Once again, pay no attention to the middle finger-challenged individual. Perhaps he is merely attempting to point something out to the group. Perhaps not).

It was around 10 pm when Kathy and I left to get some sleep.

The next day, Kathy brought Matt home and we were all relieved. He has to wear the cervical collar for 3 months. When we asked the doctor if there would be any physical therapy, we were told the best therapy would be to resume normal life.  Normal life . . .

Dan Gets A Goal

Imagine you are a thirteen-year-old kid. You have never skated before in your life. Now imagine you decide you want to play hockey. That means you have to play with kids your age, most of whom have been skating and playing hockey for 8 years or more. But you go to your dad and tell him what you want to do and he is supportive. It is something new for him too.

You sign up with a league and get assigned to a team. Then you find out there is another kid who will be skating for the first time as well. You get all the protective equipment you need and some skates and a hockey stick. You learn a bit about shafts and blades and choices you need to make as the cost of all that necessary stuff gets higher and higher.

Through it all, your dad is supportive all the way and you find you are having fun.

The season progresses and you watch all your teammates scoring goals. You hang in there and try to make an impact on the play. You experience the exhilaration of playing on a team that, after a slow start, wins 12 of their last 14 games including the championship for their bracket.

A few weeks go by after the last tournament and you look forward to one more weekend of hockey. The team that you faced in Ottawa a few months before is traveling down to the states to play a couple more games.

The first game turns out to be a rout and your team wins by a score of 15-3. The coach changes things around and you start getting more chances than you could believe. The game ends and you still are lacking a score.

Now it is the final game of the year. The coach once again has gotten creative with the lines and you are vaguely aware of the parents in the crowd getting louder each time you handle the puck.

Then it happens. You skate across the blue line into their zone as your teammates maneuver the puck down the wing toward the goal. Someone takes a shot and the goalie makes a save, deflecting the puck with his stick. One of your teammates regains control of the puck and dekes around their defensemen and sees you ready in front of the goal. He taps the puck in your direction and you execute. You watch the puck glide past the skates and sticks of their defenders and see the goalie react to you shot. As he kicks his skate out to cover the gap and makes an attempt to stop the puck, you see it is too late and the puck finds its way across the goal line and the ref signals a goal. You are at once swamped by your teammates who have been with you on this ride all season. They react as if they are more exhilarated than you. You hear the bank of parents erupt in cheers and applause in celebration of your feat.

This, you tell yourself is why you wanted to play hockey. This is what will make the months between now and November drag on as you wait until you can don you skates once again and become part of another team.

This past weekend, Dan, a first-year player on my son's bantam team didn't have to imagine any of that because he lived it.

Bed Shopping

When did buying a bed become such a monumental undertaking? The price of a mattress set and a bed are approaching the cost of a car in the sixties.

We have been enduring the same bed we have slept in for the past 23 plus years. I happened to mention we were in the market back when I worked for a structural engineering firm. As it happened, one of the partners had a son-in-law or something who was selling a used waterbed. We got the address and drove over to check it out. the box for the mattress had been cobbed together and the whole assembly sat up on concrete blocks. If I remember it right, the whole thing only set us back 50 bucks or something and we were set until I built a frame and replaced the bottom of the box with plywood a year or so later after we had moved into the house.

It was an old concept waterbed without baffles or anything fancy. Just a huge vinyl tube filled with water and a heater at the bottom. The mattress had to be replaced within a few years after my wife brought her old needlepoint habits with her. It seems she was accustomed to doing her needlework while sitting in bed and would slip the needle into the mattress while she was repositioning the portion of fabric she was working on or whatever it is that a person doing needlepoint needs to do. Oops! That did not work so well with the water mattress. I was able to repair it but the heater had been going too so we went ot and purchased a new mattress and heater.

Of late, we have not been getting restful sleep and my better half has been complaining of back problems. It is time to shop.

Once the sticker shock set it, we realized it will not quite be time to buy. Not at least until the mortgage is paid off at the end of the year and we have adjusted to the car payments.

We were hoping to put off the cost of the frame until the financial effects of the mattress set investment wore off. Instead, we discovered that the box we have, although plenty long, is a few inches short and the king size mattress set will not fit.

The cost ranges from $700 or so on the low end to approaching $1500 on the high end. Then there are the choices of firm. plush, pillow-top, traditional, pressure-equalization, and something called viscoelastic memory foam.

Next comes the point where we have to compromise on our selection. I want something more on the firm side that is less pricey. She wants something less firm and pricier. She can see discernable differences and I am not able to see a huge difference between the, choke, less expensive mattresses ($700 is not cheap by any stretch of the imagination) and the high end build-a-shrine-for-it ones.

I never would have though I would have to consider taking out a loan just to get a decent night's sleep.

Can't Get Back To Sleep

Here is what has been happening. I get home from work and do some work around the house and get some exercise. We settle in and perhaps watch a little tube, perhaps read a bit. Invariably, I find my way to the other end of the bed near the tube so the volume can be lowered, thereby allowing my better half to fall asleep unfettered.

There is this moment that occurs next where I find myself turning on my side, my face directed away from the set. It is at that moment that I have given myself over to sleep. I would guess not a minute goes by after that before I am sound asleep.

Some time after that, beyond the time when the timer on the tube shuts off the set, I move back to the other end of the bed and crawl under the covers.

This should be it for the night. Not too long ago, it was. These past several nights, or mornings, some event has happened that awakens me a few hours before it is time to get up. Some nights it is a trip to the can. Other nights it is my partner repositioning herself enough to stir me from sleep.

Once I am awake. That is it. I am done for. I slip in and out of slumber right up to the time the alarms sound. That is the signal for my body to enter the deep sleep I craved two hours earlier.

At this point, the sounds of morning edition on NPR intermingle with one dream or another and I find myself suspended in some ethereal non-reality where I am trying to solve foreign problems that I have no clue about. The logic of these problems makes no sense to me either.

I am aware that the explanation of many dreams is it is the unconscious mind's way of resolving issues of the conscious mind. I am also aware that writing these dreams down before even getting out of bed; or recording them can be helpful in solving whatever issues they are about. I am aware of these things but have found myself doing nothing about them for many years.

The feelings associated with these dreams and these periods of insomnia are unpleasant. I have felt despair, discomfort, fear and uncertainty. The problem is, I have no idea what is triggering these fears.

Freed To Do

When you have been consumed with chasing a college basketball team to as far as east of the Hudson River and a Bantam hockey team to Ottawa, Ontario, you find yourself relieved to have a weekend or two to catch up at home. Such was my last few days. I set my mind to accomplish a few things that needed doing.

The weekend kicked into gear Friday night. While my better half caught the latest HBO broadcast (cablecast?) of Sinbad, I tested out the old calf muscle then showered. We asked the lad if he was interested in going to the retreat with us. It is a local restaurant with great fish that we haven't been to in years. The lad was not interested so we compromised and headed out to the Olive Garden.

Saturday morning found me lounging in bed a bit while my wife headed off to Geneva then Ithaca; back to Geneva then home in the evening. Not long after she left, I dragged myself out of bed and headed out to Wegman's for a bagel and orange juice. After that I did some grocery shopping and discovered I had deleted all my check register spreadsheet files from my PDA.

Since I had back-up files at the office, I planned on heading over there after putting the groceries away. First, I stopped at the Hess station near Wegmans to get some coke that was on sale. I figured it would be a good idea to offer to get the son out of the house so I cooked him sausage and eggs with white toast to entice him to get out of bed.

After a quick visit to the office to upload the files I needed, we were off to Dick's and BJ's to check on some blades and to price the bike he wants for his birthday.

Once home, I cleared the crap that was blocking the four-drawer file cabinet I have been keeping in the basement for the last 8 years. I also cleared most of the junk that has accumulated in the front hall to make room for the file cabinet. It took some time to make the switch but I accomplished my mission while watching the Yankees come from behind to beat the Orioles.

I took a brief nap after than then tested the calf again. After showering, I drove the lad out to play laser tag then returned home after gassing up at BJ's and stopping at Wal-mart to price the minidisc players.

I caught up with my lovely bride upon my return home before she took a nap while I watched 12 monkeys. I woke her up at 10:30 so she could drive out to fetch the lad. After the movie, we turned in.

Sunday was yard-work day. The first item on the agenda was the hose spigot. The one we had has been leaking for the past few years and I bought a replacement last year. Sunday was the day I cut the other one out and soldered in the new one. I must have set a new personal record for completing a plumbing project. It was completed in less than a half hour.

Then I went out and de-thatched and raked and fertilized while listening to the Yankees lose to the Orioles. After relaxing while watching Pure Country with the wife, I headed back to Wegmans to buy some steak for dinner. We also had broccoli and garlic toast and salad with sour cream dressing, a recipe I learned from my mother. I bought some fresh mushrooms for the lady of the house and she nuked some spuds to complete the meal.

My mom called near the end of dinner to say hello and inform us that my Uncle was in Strong Memorial Hospital awaiting a liver transplant. My brother's cat ended up dead at the door to his house, soaked and bloody.

After dinner I read a bit and headed back to Wegmans yet again because I had a craving for Oreo cookies.

When I came home, I thought I smelled gas but when I checked the stove, all the knobs were up and down so I figured it was residual from when I turned them on to cook dinner. A couple of them do not light with the igniter and we need to use matches.

As it turned out, there was one burner that was up-and-down like the rest only it was 180 degrees meaning it was on all night. I discovered it in the morning when I woke up to get the paper a little before 6 a.m. I opened the front and back doors to air out the house then crawled back in bed. When I got up to get ready for work a while later, the odor had dissipated and was replaced with a pleasant fresh smell.

First Gig Of The Season

It was last Friday. I had to leave work a bit earlier than usual. The farmer who had hired us to play for his venison party at a rural golf course wanted us there a half hour before starting time. At least that was the message we got.

The car was packed with my instruments and everything was all set. I had taken care of that part by getting up a little early that morning and lugging the cases with the four reed instruments I play out to the garage before I showered.

There was a slight delay in the parking lot of the office building where I work as I set up the spreadsheet I use to keep track of my band mileage. There were conflicts earlier in the year with my son's hockey that prevented me from making the Mardis Gras gig and the ass job (as I like to call it).

Every Palm Sunday there is a church downtown that has a palm procession through the streets of Syracuse. We lead the procession, playing spirituals while the congregation parades behind singing along. Right behind us walks Ernie the donkey, the reason I refer to it as I do.

Last Friday, once I had the spreadsheet all set up, I put the car into drive and headed out. I was visualizing the routes I could take to get to the other side of the city then south to determine the quickest one. By the time I had turned left from the parking lot onto Fly Road (I like to tell people that I zip up fly road every day on my way to work), I had determined my preferred route before stopping at the traffic light on the corner of Fly and Kirkville Road.

All was smooth sailing until I turned off the Route 5 bypass and onto route 5, heading toward Elbridge. My turn onto Bennets Corners Road is only about 5 minutes on a normal day. Friday was no normal day. No sooner had I accelerated to 55 mph than I noticed taillights ahead and bumper-to-bumper slow-moving traffic. I switched the radio right away to find Tony Bombardo and the traffic report but Murphy's Law was in effect.

There is a restaurant on Route 5 about halfway between Camillus and Elbridge that is called the Inn Between. About the time I saw that approaching on my right, I decided that it may be wise to use their parking lot to turn around and head back to find an alternate route.

I lost a total of about 20 minutes when I doubled back to route 174 and found myself winding my way more or less in the direction I wanted to go. There was a pressing urge that made this whole experience a tad more unpleasant. Before I turned onto Route 5 to find the traffic snarl, I was thinking ahead to stopping on the corner of 5 and Bennets Corners to relieve myself at the stop and go on the corner. Since I was forced to take a detour, the urge grew to become a tad more than unpleasant.

It wasn't until after 174 connected with Bennets Corners that I found a convenient rural drive to pull into so I could get out of the car and relieve myself next to a tree large enough to shield what I was doing from the road. While on 174, Tony Bombardo finally came on the radio to tell me to avoid Bennets Corners Road because a car had rolled over there. There had been a police car blocking the way back toward that rolled car at the intersection or 174 and Bennets Corners.

I made it to the country club with about ten minutes to spare. That is not really enough time to set up all my instruments and the amp I use as a monitor, but I got enough ready so I could play when six o'clock rolled around. The rest got set up during solos by my band mates.

We played a longer first set than usual, mostly because the leader enjoys the first full band gig of the season more so because of the time that elapses between the last and the first. We do not get to play much during the winter months, ass job not withstanding.

It was good to be back together making music. It was good to interact with such talent once again. It was good to enhance my income as well. The venison was not too bad either.

Back To It

When I was younger, I suppose I thought I was more or less indestructible. Never having broken any bones, perhaps I was closer to the mark than most may be. Through the years, I have been running as consistently as my schedule and health would allow.

Last summer, I took on the task of siding the house. I accomplished that goal but noticed a numbness that started growing in my right foot. This was accompanied by some excruciating back pain for a time which led to physical therapy and a slow and gradual journey back to being pain-free.

The numbness continues to stay with me. I suspect that numbness may be what led to my latest injury that occurred abou 3 weeks ago when I pulled a calf muscle in my right leg as I ran down the hill in the last half mile of a 2-mile run.

After consulting my medical running book and applying heat and compression for the prescribed number of days, I sweated it out for a couple weeks until I realized that the muscle had finally healed, in spit of being re-injured on several occassions.

That brings me to last night. The temperatures were warm enough to run without sweats for the first time since last fall. I ran with trepidation after having mixed results on the last run the previous week. I was not sure I had rested the calf enough. Maybe I didn't stretch it enough. I was even considering the inevitability that I may be doomed to walking for the rest of my life.

Still, I wanted to test it to see what I could do. The first mile was extrordinary, considering how I felt after the previous run. Somehow, I had run more than 30 seconds faster than the last few times. The calf didn't start to feel slightly off until after I got home. It seems ok, just not 100%.

The trick now will be to find the right combination of rest, weight training and running to nurture the injury to the point where I am back where I want to be and in the shape I expect to be.

It feels great to be back to it.

Finding The Time

I am trying to find the time to fit these entries into my schedule. It does not seem that I am as busy of late as usual, but some of the things I am doing now are quite different from the recent past.

With two kids active in winter sports, I find my free time between November and April limited.

Now, with only a few minutes left of my lunch hour I will have to get into their latest athletic acheivements at another time. The short report for now is this: My daughter helped her D3 college team to the sweet 16 in the NCAA tournament and my son helped his Bantam hockey team win the lower bracket championship of the snowbelt league.

This past weekend found me getting a jump on cleaning a lot of the stuff that has been accumulatind almost like a growth on my side of the bedroom. I was taken aback at how time-consuming the process proved to be. Somehow, I also completed the Stephen King Dark Tower series and started Bill Clinton's autobiography. We also took the lad to a Crunch game (they lost 0-3 to Hamilton) and we made a family trip to the grocery store before watching the Yanks beat the Red Sox on YES.

The Beginning

The truth should reveal itself in time. All we can do is one thing at a time until we make it through the day.