Monday, March 28, 2005

My Family today?

Honest to God this is true and it is not a TV show episode.

This afternoon my Mothers Uncle William, (My Moms mothers brother), got that, calls and tells my Mom that his sister Florence has died and she, (my Mom) needs to get a hold of her Mom, Williams Sister the news. My Mom is upset and tries to get a hold of her Mom, (My Grandmother) and can’t. She calls and calls no answer. My mother finally calls her sister Joan and relays the news. My Aunt Joan finally gets a hold of my Grandmother and tells her that her sister has died.


My mother calls back to her Uncle William in New Hampshire. Now I am sure that he is 80 or 90 years old and his hearing isn’t so good but, when my Mom asks her uncle William, “How did Aunt Florence die” He yells to his wife in the back ground, “Hey was it Florence or Helen that died.” My Mom hears, “it was Helen, not Florence.” My mom hangs up the telephone and calls back to my Aunt Joan’s and tells her, “Don’t call mom yet there has been a mistake. Florence didn’t die, Aunt Helen did.” My Aunt Joan hangs up the phone on my mom and calls my grandmother back to explain that her other sister has died.

I don’t know about any one else but this is scary. I hope I live a long time and I hope that I never have to call one of my brothers or sisters to tell them that one of my other siblings has died. If I do, I hope I get the name right.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Here are some thoughts

I have been doing some thinking on Terri Schiavo. I have never met her or any one close to her and I can only comment from my point of view and give an opinion; I don’t pretend to be Solomon or to really reach meaningful conclusion here. Are we extending her life or are we prolonging the death experience. I signed the DNR letter when my father collapsed and was taken to the hospital. I had many conversations with my Dad over the years and I knew that he did not want heroic measures taken to extend his life if he was on life support. This decision was easy when I signed it at the hospital and I was standing next to him when he took his last breathe. Months later the nightmares began and I did feel guilty for some time, convincing myself over and over again that my decision was correct and then I convinced myself that it was wrong and I had killed my father. Today I have come to grips with the fact that I did what he wanted and that is all that I did, I fulfilled his wishes, not mine, and I did help my dad go to heaven the way he wanted to go, his way and on his terms.

There are a lot of hysterical people running around claiming that they know what is best for this poor women and family. None of these people have ever met her, met her husband until she unfortunately became the “flavor of the day” no one outside of her family knew her.

Her family is her husband and to a point her father and mother. When she married her father for lack of a better phrase, “ Gave her away.” I know this doesn’t mean what it says but when she married her husband was, is the one that is responsible for her. Tragic as it is he does have the right to make this decision. The husband has for years told the same story, that after a couple of funerals were family members died after being on ventilators she told him that she never wanted to be like that. Now his error was that he didn’t have her write it down, but how does a young husband tell his even younger wife she needs to write down this “living will statement.” I am sure lots of Americans are writing down their wishes now, but 15 years ago this was a quiet subject for everyone.
I have been married and I had conversations with my wife about our plans and our wishes that I never told my parents about.

While in hospice care her husband was asked to remove her from the facility because he demanded on a continuous basis better treatment for his wife. She has been bedridden for 15 years and has never had a bedsore. 15 years in bed and no bedsores, I would say that that isn’t mistreatment that is excellent treatment.

Her husband never mistreated this poor girl; she had a heart attack due to low potassium from an eating disorder. Her medical care was botched at the hospital and she was put in hospice. There was a settlement that pays for her care and has not made the husband rich. This is why the guy comes across as the bad guy because he didn’t sit by her bedside everyday and forgo any hope of a life for himself. He went out and met someone else and didn’t play the grieving husband or play the martyr role that we think he should play. Did he give away his right to make this decision when he gave up on her and started seeing someone else, maybe I think but she was already in a coma when he met someone else.

Terri’s parents are the ones I feel sorry for the most. What are they supposed to do, not fight and let her die? They are doing what I hope all parents would do love, cherish and care for their children forever. Some would say that they are not caring for her but extending her suffering, but I fear that they are doing all they know how to do, love their daughter.

Everybody has had his or her shot to make their case but the truth is she decided what she wanted to have down in her conversations with her husband years ago. I cannot imagine the pain and agony that her husband has gone through and has to deal with now and how has he changed in 15 years of battling to fulfill his wives wishes, but it seems to me that everyone should take a deep breath and let go.

I do worry in part because somehow it just doesn’t seem right have close 30, 000 people a year die from having their life support turned off by family members, yet I do not want to be on life support and be a burden for my family. We do not know what it is like to be the patient because only 1 person has ever “recovered” while being in the same degree of “coma” or “vegetative state” as Mrs. Schiavo and he remembers nothing of his lengthy hospital state.

Life is precious and should not be wasted and love is even more precious and is rarely viewed in such a bright light but so many people and when magnified by the TV cameras, the politicians and the religious people I fear we all loose sight of the absolute gift we have.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Spring Time Vacation

No matter what, I will head back to Phoenix next year for more baseball and sun. I will stay in a different hotel near a ballpark and will get to different stadiums than this year. I saw games Sunday Night, Monday afternoon, Monday Night, Tuesday Day and Night. I spent Tuesday morning watching the Angels take infield practice for 2 hours and I watched batting practice while leaning my face through a chain link fence like a little kid. I saw the sausage race at the Brewers Park and actually stood up and cheered for the hot dog to win the race. I talked baseball with some strangers at some of the games and sat alone on the grass at others and just enjoyed the day. I didn't have to leave early because I had a long drive home and I waited until the end of the games to leave. I watched Major League Baseball players play catch with their kids on the field right in front of me and they were not bothered for an n autograph.

I saw little kids sing the national anthem as well as a group of 75 years old ladies and heard a tape of a choir sing it as well. The park would become extremely quiet and EVERYBODY took off their hats and most of sang along. I was in a stadium with as few as 2700 people and again with over 12, 000 packed in. I saw big stars, Vlad Guerrero, Todd Helton, Ben Sheets, Sean Green, Adrian Beltrae, etc and saw future stars like Ian Kinsler and Macier Izturis.

While at the Angel game on Monday afternoon I watched a stupid fan from NY or NJ act like an ass. He was pasty white in color and wearing a NY Yankee hat and about 40 years old. He brought his elderly father to the game and headed down the aisle past me. He then proceeded to berate a couple of guys that he claimed were sitting in his seats. He threatened “I will beat the living shit out you if don’t fooking move right now”. That’s right “fooking” not fuck, but the long drawn out version only available from an east coast idiot.

The two guys just sat there in their seats and said, “Hey dude, these are our seats your in the wrong section.” The knucklehead from back east went on and on with the “Foook You” Then he pulls the “Do you know who I am” card. Yep, “Do you know who I am? Who freakin cares who you are. Finally the usher who is older than dirt comes down to see what the commotion is; the usher looks at both sets of tickets and tells Mr. East Coast that he is in the wrong section. Everyone around cheers, then Mr. pasty white east coast guy flips the double bird to everyone in the stands, classy guy giving the finger to everyone around while his dad stands there holding his drinks. His father looks embarrassed and they finally move over to a section where they sit down. Is it over, hardly?

A couple innings later this idiot has now moved down a few rows and sits in someone else’s seat. When this family comes to sit in their 4 seats Mr. East Coast is belligerent and tells them that they are ion the wrong section and that these are his seats. F bombs fly out of his mouth and finally security comes down and hauls this guy out. While he is being escorted up the aisle everyone claps and of course here comes the double bird again from Mr. East Coast. Everyone starts to cheer and his poor father slowly stands up and begins to head up after his son who has clearly embarrassed him again.

I watched grown men with notebooks full of baseball cards hound players for a signature. Most of these guys wanted the players to sign 5 or 6 cards for “My Family”. Each and every single player refused to sign more than 1 card and then some of these “adults” called the players “DICK” and “ASSHOLE” after getting their card signed.

I met a players agent at the Brewers vs. Rangers game and I talked to him about the behind the scenes stuff, paydays, insurance, contracts, travel arrangements, minor league stuff and learned a shitload of stuff about things I never knew. I met the sister of a wife of a major league player and while she proceeded to get sloppily drunk and the she asked me,

"Are you anybody that's important, you know you look important",

(I guess that's a compliment right?)

While being cute and someone to talk to, she did drink 8 beers in 2 innings and that was a real warning sign to stay away. Eventually she staggered up the stairs and she threw up on the walkway BEFORE she got to the restroom.

I got some sun but wore a hat and never got burned, I never got drunk and I only got lost once and only once, when I was detoured thought the ABC Extreme Makeover Home Edition House traffic jam on Monday Morning, (that was on TV Sunday Night about the little girl with cancer)

The drive is so easy, 6 hours is a trip to Vegas, (without the gambling), and everybody was friendly and nice. I felt a lot of anger, frustration and stupid stuff go away while I was away, and it's a real shame that 1 day back on the job and a lot of that stuff is back.

The ego trips and the lying and the “I’m more important than you are” BS is crushing to return to. Too much stupid stuff at work is absolutely killing me. I should feel better when I get back from a vacation, I should not feel this worn down after 1-day back.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

I sat here on 3-15-05 in Suprise Arizona Posted by Hello

Thursday, March 10, 2005


I am going on vacation next week and I am working like a dog this week so that I can go. I am amazed that once my vacation shows up on the company calendar massive amounts of work flow to my inbox. I am suddenly needed to check documents, visit managers, solve aal of major crisis' among feuding employees and re-schedule court dates. If I am lucky I will work only 60-70 hours this week, so that I can take a vacation for a week so that I can return to the disaster that my desk, my inbox, my voicemail, my e-mail, my regular mail box and my 2 company mail boxes. Ahh the joys of going on vacation,

I will be in Phoenix AZ watching Cactus League spring training baseball and getting a tan. Maybe pictures from vacation on the blog, just what everyone wants to see.

Have fun

Sunday, March 06, 2005

this cat has been hanging around my porch. Not my cat, but I'll call him Stan. Posted by Hello