So, it's been almost a year since I was here. Actually, I have been here, and writing all along, I just have not published anything because most of what I wrote was not representative of, well, ME. The last posting I did share was from this past winter. Since then, the road has gotten really dark, and my prose has reflected it. I decided that my reader(s - there may be two or three...) did not really need to see how dark I became. The impending financial doom we were facing, coupled with the loss of our friend Kathy in the spring, and our subsequent moves in the interim, might have made for interesting reading (and I may pubish some of that material in bits and pieces going forward, but everyone would have been taken aback, I believe, with the dark room from which I was writing,
Interestingly, I have often thought about starting back up again, and never foresaw a one-year break, but it was a contact from a friend from over 20 years ago that actually sent me back here, as he indicated he read about a mutual friend on this blog. So, once again into the breach...
I would be remiss if I didn't say hello directly to Amy, so, HI AMY! And, to everyyone else, stay tuned for some 'light'er fare from me soon.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Friday, December 19, 2008
I cannot adequately describe the devastation I feel tonight
…but I will try. I don’t even know where to begin. I wrote a couple of posts ago about how I really miss some of the people who have been important in my life. One of those people was Marty Heenan, someone I have known and been happy to call my friend for more than twenty-five years. Actually, Marty is more like family than just a friend. We were friends instantly when we first met each other in seventh grade. The ice-breaking line he delivered to me? “Hey, anyone ever tell you you look like the Frisch’s Big Boy?” Ah, friendship.
Over the years our friendship grew deep, and later, complex, as long-term friendships do. We always got along tremendously well, and my family took him in as one of our own. He was the friend that was so accepted in my home that he would walk in without knocking, go straight to the refrigerator, pour himself a glass of tea, and ask my mom, “what’s for dinner?” We played together, later partied together, got drunk and in trouble, liked the same girls, supported each other through trying times – all the things friends do when they are young and indestructible, yet also shared a love for each other.
Marty was one of four of my friends that all grew up together and stayed in constant contact with each other. We played golf, had parties, grew up and went to college, got married and started families, and then, inevitably, I guess, we started to drift into our own orbits. I missed Marty and Cathy, his wife, but we seemed to have trouble connecting. I barely spoke to them after we moved to Charlotte. In the meantime, we all went on with our lives. Marty and Cathy were raising the twins, Michael and Gaby, they had after many, many years of fighting through infertility. I was so pleased when they told us they were pregnant with twins, and thrilled when we met them for the first time.
There is SO much more I could tell you about Marty, and our friendship, and the things we have done together over the years. The stories would fill days’ worth of typing. But I learned something today more significant than any story I could tell. Cathy, the lovable, beautiful, vivacious wife of one of my dearest friends, the second-grade teacher who loved her students tremendously, the girl everyone thought was waaaay too sweet to be with Marty, will not be with us much longer. She is dying.
Marty called me out of the blue Wednesday, after more than two years since our last conversation. I have been meaning to call him as part of my attempt to start reconnecting to people in my life, and had just sent a Christmas card to his family earlier this week. Our conversation centered mainly on what I have been suffering through the last several years. I felt there was something more to be said when we hung up our call, however, because he had alluded to some difficulty he was facing without really discussing it.
I called him yesterday and left a message, and he called me back tonight. We talked about his brother, who is facing some problems in his own life, and then I told him we were going to be in Orlando after Christmas, and would love to see him and Cathy and the kids. He said that would be great, that Cathy would really like to see Dana, but that he needed to prepare us for what we would see. My heart sank. I knew Cathy had fought breast cancer several years ago, but she had pulled through that, though she faced severe challenges with the process, like many women do. I had heard from another close friend, Rick, this summer that she was ill, but it didn’t seem to register with me that she was facing cancer again. Apparently, the cancer returned, and it is aggressive, and now beyond treatment.
Cathy is 38 years old. She is a mother of twin 3-year-olds. She is dying.
I have cried most of the night. I do not know what to do for her, or for Marty. He sounds hopeless, and angry, and empty. I feel a tiny little bit of each of those emotions as I type this, but I can only imagine what he is feeling, and I am sure even then I cannot come close to the anguish he is dealing with. I feel so shitty for not being there for him as they have gone through this. And I feel selfish for feeling that way – THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME! But, I feel it nonetheless. I want to move back to Orlando so I can be close to them and help. I want us to be there after she is gone so their twins can play with my girls, and we can spell Marty even a tiny little bit from what he is about to have to face. I LOVE these people, and want to do anything I can to help. But, there is nothing I can really do to solve the pain that has fallen and will fall upon that family. A single father of young twins? A broken-hearted widower? At 40?
What can I do? I feel helpless. I am so, so sorry, Marty. I am having a paroxysm of grief at the moment, and again feel selfish. I am worried that my girls saw me break down tonight and ran to me to hug me and they began to cry, not knowing why, only that Daddy was in pain. How can I remotely explain to them why I feel like I do? Katy is so sensitive to emotions. She is highly intelligent, but also has an off-chart high emotional intelligence. How will she do when we visit the Heenans next week? What does any of it mean compared to the psychic storm occurring there now?
I am in pain – physical pain over this. And I feel guilty about THAT! Rationally, I know these feelings are completely normal and acceptable, but I feel badly for feeling bad. HE needs support and love, not me; but I need some. Thank god Dana understands and is here for me now.
I am exhausted, a bit foggy, and really emotional right now. This was probably not the best time to write about this tonight. As I read what I have typed so far, it seems a bit incoherent, but it is what is in my head, and that is what this blog is about. I just don’t have the energy to go on tonight.
Until next time…
P.S. If you are thinking about making that call to someone you care about, don’t wait anymore. Pick up the damn phone!
Over the years our friendship grew deep, and later, complex, as long-term friendships do. We always got along tremendously well, and my family took him in as one of our own. He was the friend that was so accepted in my home that he would walk in without knocking, go straight to the refrigerator, pour himself a glass of tea, and ask my mom, “what’s for dinner?” We played together, later partied together, got drunk and in trouble, liked the same girls, supported each other through trying times – all the things friends do when they are young and indestructible, yet also shared a love for each other.
Marty was one of four of my friends that all grew up together and stayed in constant contact with each other. We played golf, had parties, grew up and went to college, got married and started families, and then, inevitably, I guess, we started to drift into our own orbits. I missed Marty and Cathy, his wife, but we seemed to have trouble connecting. I barely spoke to them after we moved to Charlotte. In the meantime, we all went on with our lives. Marty and Cathy were raising the twins, Michael and Gaby, they had after many, many years of fighting through infertility. I was so pleased when they told us they were pregnant with twins, and thrilled when we met them for the first time.
There is SO much more I could tell you about Marty, and our friendship, and the things we have done together over the years. The stories would fill days’ worth of typing. But I learned something today more significant than any story I could tell. Cathy, the lovable, beautiful, vivacious wife of one of my dearest friends, the second-grade teacher who loved her students tremendously, the girl everyone thought was waaaay too sweet to be with Marty, will not be with us much longer. She is dying.
Marty called me out of the blue Wednesday, after more than two years since our last conversation. I have been meaning to call him as part of my attempt to start reconnecting to people in my life, and had just sent a Christmas card to his family earlier this week. Our conversation centered mainly on what I have been suffering through the last several years. I felt there was something more to be said when we hung up our call, however, because he had alluded to some difficulty he was facing without really discussing it.
I called him yesterday and left a message, and he called me back tonight. We talked about his brother, who is facing some problems in his own life, and then I told him we were going to be in Orlando after Christmas, and would love to see him and Cathy and the kids. He said that would be great, that Cathy would really like to see Dana, but that he needed to prepare us for what we would see. My heart sank. I knew Cathy had fought breast cancer several years ago, but she had pulled through that, though she faced severe challenges with the process, like many women do. I had heard from another close friend, Rick, this summer that she was ill, but it didn’t seem to register with me that she was facing cancer again. Apparently, the cancer returned, and it is aggressive, and now beyond treatment.
Cathy is 38 years old. She is a mother of twin 3-year-olds. She is dying.
I have cried most of the night. I do not know what to do for her, or for Marty. He sounds hopeless, and angry, and empty. I feel a tiny little bit of each of those emotions as I type this, but I can only imagine what he is feeling, and I am sure even then I cannot come close to the anguish he is dealing with. I feel so shitty for not being there for him as they have gone through this. And I feel selfish for feeling that way – THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME! But, I feel it nonetheless. I want to move back to Orlando so I can be close to them and help. I want us to be there after she is gone so their twins can play with my girls, and we can spell Marty even a tiny little bit from what he is about to have to face. I LOVE these people, and want to do anything I can to help. But, there is nothing I can really do to solve the pain that has fallen and will fall upon that family. A single father of young twins? A broken-hearted widower? At 40?
What can I do? I feel helpless. I am so, so sorry, Marty. I am having a paroxysm of grief at the moment, and again feel selfish. I am worried that my girls saw me break down tonight and ran to me to hug me and they began to cry, not knowing why, only that Daddy was in pain. How can I remotely explain to them why I feel like I do? Katy is so sensitive to emotions. She is highly intelligent, but also has an off-chart high emotional intelligence. How will she do when we visit the Heenans next week? What does any of it mean compared to the psychic storm occurring there now?
I am in pain – physical pain over this. And I feel guilty about THAT! Rationally, I know these feelings are completely normal and acceptable, but I feel badly for feeling bad. HE needs support and love, not me; but I need some. Thank god Dana understands and is here for me now.
I am exhausted, a bit foggy, and really emotional right now. This was probably not the best time to write about this tonight. As I read what I have typed so far, it seems a bit incoherent, but it is what is in my head, and that is what this blog is about. I just don’t have the energy to go on tonight.
Until next time…
P.S. If you are thinking about making that call to someone you care about, don’t wait anymore. Pick up the damn phone!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Drugs! Greed! Sex (ok, not sex...)
I had my biannual visit with Dr. Rao, my neurologist, yesterday, and I came away from the appointment feeling both good and a bit sad. I actually saw a new PA, Jan, while there, which makes four different PAs I have worked with since my injury, along with Dr. Rao, for my neurology needs. The first, Kay, was (and remains) my little Russian hero. Kseniya Bogotova – sounds Slavic, no? She was wonderful, and a huge part of my recovery. Alas, I have not seen her in over two years since she left the practice. She was cute, caring, and helped me in my recovery a great deal. I am sad she is not part of my continued recovery, but the profession works that way, I guess. Jan was very nice, listened to what I had to say, and agreed with my assessment of where I was in the recovery process – which is to say still fairly screwed up. Not in the “I can’t function” way, but I am still dealing with issues from the injury.
The sad part of the visit is I am going to be starting back on two of the medications I was on up until this summer, and then quit (with the agreement and cooperation of my doctors – NEVER cease a medication regimen without your doctors’ input!) because I wanted to see if I could thrive without taking all the rather heavy meds I was on. I had a secondary reason, as well, as I had started to work on my pilot’s license again this year, and could not pass a FAA medical while taking some of the meds I was on. Well, the piloting will have to wait longer, as I will be resuming the sleep medication and the ADD drug I was taking, due to the fact that I am rapidly beginning to see the same sleep symptomology and hypersomnolence I was experiencing before, along with some mental ‘fogginess’ during the daytime.
I am quite bummed, as I was determined to NOT have to take these drugs over the long term, and especially not for the rest of my life, as Dr. Rao had indicated might be the case. Oh, well. We’ll try again and maybe at some point in the future I will give coming off the drugs another shot.
The good in all this is that I will once again be taking these drugs. A bit contradictory, I know, but this will provide additional evidence to the attorneys involved in my case that there ARE long-term costs associated with my continuing care, and they all need to get off their butts and settle the case I have against the bank’s insurer – AIG. Now, there is a LOT I could say about AIG, and the people in that company I have had to deal with, but I will hold my tongue. Needless to say, when I first heard AIG was asking for a government bailout because they can’t run their damn business, I was the first on the phone to my congressional representatives to scream “NO F’ING WAY!” That ploy was as effective as a fart in a hurricane, I guess, since the government has bailed them out twice now to the tune of $120 billion, which they have misspent horribly. I hope someone goes to jail.
I know this goes against what you may remember of my “Corporate America RULES” philosophy, but my MBA didn’t brainwash me, it only taught me to think more critically than ever. Being critical of business, especially financial services companies, is not that hard these days, is it? I am significantly distressed at where things sit today in our economy, and in that sector particularly, but that is a topic for a different post. I will say this: My personal situation, that of my former employees and my investors, all of whom have or will lose everything they put into my company with me, is joined in lockstep with the corruption and greed that has put us where we are today. WE made our own bed, though - don’t think it is just the fault of CEOs everywhere - you and I played our parts, too. So, I am angry! At them, yes, but at myself, too. No, I didn’t pull a Thain and ask for $10 million right after I finished the job someone else had started and ran my company into the ground, but I bought into it just like he, and everyone else, did. I remember thinking in 1989 that Gordon Gecko was right – “Greed, for lack of a better word, is GOOD!” Turns out that the morality play that movie was SUPPOSED to be in Oliver Stone’s original intent has actually come to pass. It only took 20 years for it to come to fruition.
Until next time…
The sad part of the visit is I am going to be starting back on two of the medications I was on up until this summer, and then quit (with the agreement and cooperation of my doctors – NEVER cease a medication regimen without your doctors’ input!) because I wanted to see if I could thrive without taking all the rather heavy meds I was on. I had a secondary reason, as well, as I had started to work on my pilot’s license again this year, and could not pass a FAA medical while taking some of the meds I was on. Well, the piloting will have to wait longer, as I will be resuming the sleep medication and the ADD drug I was taking, due to the fact that I am rapidly beginning to see the same sleep symptomology and hypersomnolence I was experiencing before, along with some mental ‘fogginess’ during the daytime.
I am quite bummed, as I was determined to NOT have to take these drugs over the long term, and especially not for the rest of my life, as Dr. Rao had indicated might be the case. Oh, well. We’ll try again and maybe at some point in the future I will give coming off the drugs another shot.
The good in all this is that I will once again be taking these drugs. A bit contradictory, I know, but this will provide additional evidence to the attorneys involved in my case that there ARE long-term costs associated with my continuing care, and they all need to get off their butts and settle the case I have against the bank’s insurer – AIG. Now, there is a LOT I could say about AIG, and the people in that company I have had to deal with, but I will hold my tongue. Needless to say, when I first heard AIG was asking for a government bailout because they can’t run their damn business, I was the first on the phone to my congressional representatives to scream “NO F’ING WAY!” That ploy was as effective as a fart in a hurricane, I guess, since the government has bailed them out twice now to the tune of $120 billion, which they have misspent horribly. I hope someone goes to jail.
I know this goes against what you may remember of my “Corporate America RULES” philosophy, but my MBA didn’t brainwash me, it only taught me to think more critically than ever. Being critical of business, especially financial services companies, is not that hard these days, is it? I am significantly distressed at where things sit today in our economy, and in that sector particularly, but that is a topic for a different post. I will say this: My personal situation, that of my former employees and my investors, all of whom have or will lose everything they put into my company with me, is joined in lockstep with the corruption and greed that has put us where we are today. WE made our own bed, though - don’t think it is just the fault of CEOs everywhere - you and I played our parts, too. So, I am angry! At them, yes, but at myself, too. No, I didn’t pull a Thain and ask for $10 million right after I finished the job someone else had started and ran my company into the ground, but I bought into it just like he, and everyone else, did. I remember thinking in 1989 that Gordon Gecko was right – “Greed, for lack of a better word, is GOOD!” Turns out that the morality play that movie was SUPPOSED to be in Oliver Stone’s original intent has actually come to pass. It only took 20 years for it to come to fruition.
Until next time…
Monday, December 15, 2008
On work and friends
Dana woke up Saturday morning, still in pain following her surgery (see last couple of posts), and decided she missed her work folks. She has been on leave from her job at a LARGE shipping conglomerate, due to her surgeries, for about four weeks. In that time, she has talked to her work buddies on the phone, chatted via Facebook, and texted (one-handed) on her cell phone, but she misses them. So, we drugged her up on Vicodin and loaded her in the car - after obtaining a very last-minute babysitter - and went to the (unofficial) Christmas party for her work area. Everyone there was genuinely pleased to see her (and some of them me), and even though we only stayed about 90 minutes (she was nodding off at that point), it was fun for both of us.
This led me to start thinking about work friends, and just good old, regular, non-work friends, quite a bit yesterday. I am massively pleased that Dana has such a great group of people she works with. I like most of them, too. They are younger than me by a bit in many cases, and without the work connection I probably wouldn’t really be their cup of tea, and vice versa, but I have come to really care about several of the girls and a couple of the guys. I wouldn’t necessarily call them my friends, but they sure are Dana’s. That alone makes them important in my book, and I am certainly friend-ly with them all. At the same time, and this will sound odd given what I just said, I resent the hell out of them at times.
Told you – that sounds petty, huh? Here’s the scoop: I have been blessed with some wonderful friends in my life. I have a core group that I have remained friends with since high school. There are five of us, and even though we have in some cases really gone in different directions, and maybe not talked for several YEARS, I still consider those guys my best friends. I miss them terribly, and owe them much better friendship on my part than they are currently getting from me. Why am I not being a good friend? I wish the fuck I knew! Sometimes people just grow apart. These guys all deserve better than that, though, and I really need to take steps to rectify that. The crap we have all been through together over time… They all live within an hour of each other in the Orlando area. I need to look them all up in a few weeks when we are down there for Christmas. Marty, Rick, Matt and Mike, I love you guys (not in the gay way – well, maybe Marty…LOL) and miss you. Why don’t we talk to each other? We all don’t even talk to each other between ourselves, but that is no excuse for me.
Then, there are the friendships I developed as an adult. Again, terribly strong bonds were made with these folks, yet terrible lack of friendship on my part the last several years. Steve lives within three hours of me, yet I have not talked to him even on the phone in months. Heck, we could be playing golf monthly that close together geographically. Dave, my motorcycle-riding brother, and his wife have adopted a baby and had one since I have talked to them, and he was my closest confidant for some time when we lived in Jax. Ricky, Jaime, Dick, Rich – where are you guys and why am I not talking to you?
Then, the friends I made in my MBA cohort at Florida – a better group of people in one spot couldn’t be found. There has been a marriage, two babies, and who knows what else since I have talked to or seen Josh (and E-beth), Laurie and Shveta. I loved those four with all my heart for two years in a manner that can only be precipitated out from an intense situation (like 17 months of academic hell). I miss you guys terribly.
I even have some folks from work I really would like to be in touch with, but that isn’t happening either. I especially miss Judy, my mentor, boss and friend, who did so much for me in my career. Julie and Larry, Shelley and Stephanie (who I was just a tiny bit in love with, and whose black, lace panties I still think about…[long story, and no, it’s not what you think, so get your mind out of the gutter]), my Greensboro family. Wayne Vick, who was a good manager and friend, who walked the walk of shame with me in 1999, and who took me away from the Bank in ’04 (thank you for that).
Where are these people and why am I not interacting with them?
What the fuck is my problem? I have great friends everywhere! But, I am not being their friend. In fact, I am terribly lonely. This is not the most macho statement a 40-year old guy can make, but it is true. I am hideously lonely. Not “I’m depressed and I’m going to slit my wrists with a chain saw” type lonely, but pretty lonely just the same. Worse, I cannot seem to make the overtures necessary to overcome this isolation I have thrust upon myself. I am blessed to have some wonderful people around me here in Fort Mill. We couldn’t have picked better neighbors if we had been allowed to try, but even in those relationships, I have not allowed myself to really connect.
How can you be lonely in a sea of good people? It’s my fault. Completely. After I was injured in ’05, there was a period of time where I was out of it. I mean, REALLY OUT OF IT. There is about a six month or so period of time that is gone from my life. Now, I always thought of amnesia as a “Guiding Light” kind of thing, and would have laughed had anyone told me I would suffer something similar in my life, but it can happen. I did not technically suffer from amnesia, actually. The issue had to do more with sleep, or lack thereof, more importantly. Something happened to the sleep center in my brain that basically broke my brain’s ability to turn off. While my body would physically mimic sleep, my brain never dipped down into the deep sleep we need to really refresh ourselves each night. You may have heard of sleep stages and most likely have heard of REM sleep. Well, the deep, regenerative sleep occurs in Stage IV and REM sleep. I was not getting ANY of either. The docs tell me it is no wonder my brain was scrambled.
Anyway, the first discrete memory I have of ’05 after the accident in May was my kids at Halloween – five months later. Even then, the rest of the year was a blur. My neurologist, Dr. Hemanth Rao, who is FANTASTIC, and his PA, Kseniya Bogotova (Kay), saved me by doing sleep studies to uncover the issue, and finding a drug that was being used off-label for a time, and experimentally on-label when I got hurt, to remedy the sleep dysfunction I suffered. It is beyond potent stuff, but it worked. The all-important deep sleep required to consolidate memory finally began to show up. I began to remember. However, I still had (and still do) a significant hole in my memory. I do not remember moving into our house. I do not remember getting hurt, how it happened, what happened after I returned to work, nothing, not until Halloween. I cannot believe I went back to work for several weeks after the injury. Hell, I couldn’t really drive well for six months after I started feeling better, to say nothing of what must have been happening right after the accident when I drove the interstate (I assume) into Charlotte every day.
So, I began to feel better, but my mind was still not working quite right. I knew it, Dana knew it, the people closest to me could tell. I could not read well, follow TV shows, keep up conversations, or even talk quite right. I ended up in speech therapy for several months to fix some speech latency. I began to feel odd and out of place around people. I always had one very sharp tool at my disposal in any situation in my life – my mind. Now, it was broken, and I began to feel very self-conscious about being in social, professional or public situations. I still feel this way to some extent today. I think that time period, from late in ’05, through early ’07, when we were putting the pieces back together, really messed me up at the same time it was making me better.
Then, I was finally cleared to return to work in November of ’06. I was given a start date of January 15th, ’07, which was then moved to the end of the month. I was on Cloud 9, and READY to return to work, even though my docs wanted to ease me into it by having me work part time for a couple of months. Well, I got to work on the appointed day, and was shown the door after 45 minutes. I was dumbstruck, and more damage was done. There was some lame-ass excuse given to me by the guy I had worked for when I got to Charlotte (though, frankly, I didn’t really remember him all that well), but I really feel it was because I had a massive workers’ comp claim they had been paying for. Oh well. It was a crushing blow, and seemed to reinforce to me, for whatever reason, that I was still broken.
So how does this fit with the friends issue? To understand, you have to know my friends. I have been blessed, as I indicted above, with tremendous friends. Also, with tremendously SMART friends. You have to be on your toes constantly with these groups of people. It’s not an effort, or a chore, but you don’t want to get caught up in the psychic undertow, either – LOL. Now, I felt in some way that I was substandard, I guess. That is not a good explanation, but I can’t put it into words, exactly. Regardless, I was already physically and geographically removed from these folks, and it was not that much harder to submit myself to a complete withdrawal at that point. It’s not that I felt I could not keep up, but I was facing a pretty strong current of self-pity, and I was horribly confused at how I had ended up at that point, at that point in my life. I still missed my friends, and wanted to interact with them, but I wasn’t getting home much, and then I started getting really busy when I started my own company in May of ’07. It was easy to drift apart.
Now, I am lonely - often, and deeply. And, I resent that my wife has great friends that she misses so much after only four weeks he has to go see them even though she is in pain and on heavy drugs. I envy that, and am happy for her, too. It makes me realize that we are only as good as the connections we have to those around us. That must mean that I am not a very good person at the moment. I love my wife, and adore my girls, but there is something large missing in my life and that is my friends. It is time to change that.
So, if you have received this in an e-mail out of the blue, or happened by my blog, and know you were one of my friends, I hope you still are my friend when I come to you and say, “hello, I missed the hell out of you, let’s catch up…,” because I need you. It’s rough for me right now, and I need your support. And, even though I have not been available for you, I hope you forgive me that and let me back into your life. I need you (but I promise I won’t get clingy).
Until next time…
This led me to start thinking about work friends, and just good old, regular, non-work friends, quite a bit yesterday. I am massively pleased that Dana has such a great group of people she works with. I like most of them, too. They are younger than me by a bit in many cases, and without the work connection I probably wouldn’t really be their cup of tea, and vice versa, but I have come to really care about several of the girls and a couple of the guys. I wouldn’t necessarily call them my friends, but they sure are Dana’s. That alone makes them important in my book, and I am certainly friend-ly with them all. At the same time, and this will sound odd given what I just said, I resent the hell out of them at times.
Told you – that sounds petty, huh? Here’s the scoop: I have been blessed with some wonderful friends in my life. I have a core group that I have remained friends with since high school. There are five of us, and even though we have in some cases really gone in different directions, and maybe not talked for several YEARS, I still consider those guys my best friends. I miss them terribly, and owe them much better friendship on my part than they are currently getting from me. Why am I not being a good friend? I wish the fuck I knew! Sometimes people just grow apart. These guys all deserve better than that, though, and I really need to take steps to rectify that. The crap we have all been through together over time… They all live within an hour of each other in the Orlando area. I need to look them all up in a few weeks when we are down there for Christmas. Marty, Rick, Matt and Mike, I love you guys (not in the gay way – well, maybe Marty…LOL) and miss you. Why don’t we talk to each other? We all don’t even talk to each other between ourselves, but that is no excuse for me.
Then, there are the friendships I developed as an adult. Again, terribly strong bonds were made with these folks, yet terrible lack of friendship on my part the last several years. Steve lives within three hours of me, yet I have not talked to him even on the phone in months. Heck, we could be playing golf monthly that close together geographically. Dave, my motorcycle-riding brother, and his wife have adopted a baby and had one since I have talked to them, and he was my closest confidant for some time when we lived in Jax. Ricky, Jaime, Dick, Rich – where are you guys and why am I not talking to you?
Then, the friends I made in my MBA cohort at Florida – a better group of people in one spot couldn’t be found. There has been a marriage, two babies, and who knows what else since I have talked to or seen Josh (and E-beth), Laurie and Shveta. I loved those four with all my heart for two years in a manner that can only be precipitated out from an intense situation (like 17 months of academic hell). I miss you guys terribly.
I even have some folks from work I really would like to be in touch with, but that isn’t happening either. I especially miss Judy, my mentor, boss and friend, who did so much for me in my career. Julie and Larry, Shelley and Stephanie (who I was just a tiny bit in love with, and whose black, lace panties I still think about…[long story, and no, it’s not what you think, so get your mind out of the gutter]), my Greensboro family. Wayne Vick, who was a good manager and friend, who walked the walk of shame with me in 1999, and who took me away from the Bank in ’04 (thank you for that).
Where are these people and why am I not interacting with them?
What the fuck is my problem? I have great friends everywhere! But, I am not being their friend. In fact, I am terribly lonely. This is not the most macho statement a 40-year old guy can make, but it is true. I am hideously lonely. Not “I’m depressed and I’m going to slit my wrists with a chain saw” type lonely, but pretty lonely just the same. Worse, I cannot seem to make the overtures necessary to overcome this isolation I have thrust upon myself. I am blessed to have some wonderful people around me here in Fort Mill. We couldn’t have picked better neighbors if we had been allowed to try, but even in those relationships, I have not allowed myself to really connect.
How can you be lonely in a sea of good people? It’s my fault. Completely. After I was injured in ’05, there was a period of time where I was out of it. I mean, REALLY OUT OF IT. There is about a six month or so period of time that is gone from my life. Now, I always thought of amnesia as a “Guiding Light” kind of thing, and would have laughed had anyone told me I would suffer something similar in my life, but it can happen. I did not technically suffer from amnesia, actually. The issue had to do more with sleep, or lack thereof, more importantly. Something happened to the sleep center in my brain that basically broke my brain’s ability to turn off. While my body would physically mimic sleep, my brain never dipped down into the deep sleep we need to really refresh ourselves each night. You may have heard of sleep stages and most likely have heard of REM sleep. Well, the deep, regenerative sleep occurs in Stage IV and REM sleep. I was not getting ANY of either. The docs tell me it is no wonder my brain was scrambled.
Anyway, the first discrete memory I have of ’05 after the accident in May was my kids at Halloween – five months later. Even then, the rest of the year was a blur. My neurologist, Dr. Hemanth Rao, who is FANTASTIC, and his PA, Kseniya Bogotova (Kay), saved me by doing sleep studies to uncover the issue, and finding a drug that was being used off-label for a time, and experimentally on-label when I got hurt, to remedy the sleep dysfunction I suffered. It is beyond potent stuff, but it worked. The all-important deep sleep required to consolidate memory finally began to show up. I began to remember. However, I still had (and still do) a significant hole in my memory. I do not remember moving into our house. I do not remember getting hurt, how it happened, what happened after I returned to work, nothing, not until Halloween. I cannot believe I went back to work for several weeks after the injury. Hell, I couldn’t really drive well for six months after I started feeling better, to say nothing of what must have been happening right after the accident when I drove the interstate (I assume) into Charlotte every day.
So, I began to feel better, but my mind was still not working quite right. I knew it, Dana knew it, the people closest to me could tell. I could not read well, follow TV shows, keep up conversations, or even talk quite right. I ended up in speech therapy for several months to fix some speech latency. I began to feel odd and out of place around people. I always had one very sharp tool at my disposal in any situation in my life – my mind. Now, it was broken, and I began to feel very self-conscious about being in social, professional or public situations. I still feel this way to some extent today. I think that time period, from late in ’05, through early ’07, when we were putting the pieces back together, really messed me up at the same time it was making me better.
Then, I was finally cleared to return to work in November of ’06. I was given a start date of January 15th, ’07, which was then moved to the end of the month. I was on Cloud 9, and READY to return to work, even though my docs wanted to ease me into it by having me work part time for a couple of months. Well, I got to work on the appointed day, and was shown the door after 45 minutes. I was dumbstruck, and more damage was done. There was some lame-ass excuse given to me by the guy I had worked for when I got to Charlotte (though, frankly, I didn’t really remember him all that well), but I really feel it was because I had a massive workers’ comp claim they had been paying for. Oh well. It was a crushing blow, and seemed to reinforce to me, for whatever reason, that I was still broken.
So how does this fit with the friends issue? To understand, you have to know my friends. I have been blessed, as I indicted above, with tremendous friends. Also, with tremendously SMART friends. You have to be on your toes constantly with these groups of people. It’s not an effort, or a chore, but you don’t want to get caught up in the psychic undertow, either – LOL. Now, I felt in some way that I was substandard, I guess. That is not a good explanation, but I can’t put it into words, exactly. Regardless, I was already physically and geographically removed from these folks, and it was not that much harder to submit myself to a complete withdrawal at that point. It’s not that I felt I could not keep up, but I was facing a pretty strong current of self-pity, and I was horribly confused at how I had ended up at that point, at that point in my life. I still missed my friends, and wanted to interact with them, but I wasn’t getting home much, and then I started getting really busy when I started my own company in May of ’07. It was easy to drift apart.
Now, I am lonely - often, and deeply. And, I resent that my wife has great friends that she misses so much after only four weeks he has to go see them even though she is in pain and on heavy drugs. I envy that, and am happy for her, too. It makes me realize that we are only as good as the connections we have to those around us. That must mean that I am not a very good person at the moment. I love my wife, and adore my girls, but there is something large missing in my life and that is my friends. It is time to change that.
So, if you have received this in an e-mail out of the blue, or happened by my blog, and know you were one of my friends, I hope you still are my friend when I come to you and say, “hello, I missed the hell out of you, let’s catch up…,” because I need you. It’s rough for me right now, and I need your support. And, even though I have not been available for you, I hope you forgive me that and let me back into your life. I need you (but I promise I won’t get clingy).
Until next time…
Friday, December 12, 2008
Carpal Tunnel - Dana's Surgery
You know, the whole idea of ‘repetitive-motion injury’ is funny. Most often exhibited as carpal tunnel syndrome, RMI is a product of the technology age. I can’t imagine Zeb on the farm back in 1835, swinging a hoe over and over again complaining to his doctor that “my shoulders are sore.” But, put someone in front of a PC keyboard 8 hours per day, 5 days per week, and voila! RMI. Of course, that is better than the permanent sunburn some of us that were computer geeks in the 80’s got from all the EM radiation coming off those 12”, amber-colored monitors we used… Not that I am saying RMI is not real, or painful, because I have seen that it is, and Dana's carpal tunnel issues have even caused ME physical pain. She has worn these huge metal braces on her hands and wrists to bed every night for several years, and she is not, to say the least, a stationary sleeper... The bruises should now begin to fade, I hope, and no one will ever again hand me contact cards for the Abused Spouses Association of Charlotte.
Well, Dana had her second carpal tunnel surgery yesterday, and she is recovering at home nicely today. In fact, she is asleep, filled full of Vicodin, and snoring loudly. I am upstairs in my office, and she is downstairs in the guest room, and I can hear her up here. My wife can really snore. But that is fine. It is just one of the things that make me love her more each day.
Dana has been a real trooper with the surgeries. The first was two weeks ago, and she did great with it, even though she was in pain for several days and is still a bit uncomfortable. The second one will precipitate the same recovery timeframe, I imagine, but I cannot wait until she feels better. Now instead of two little girls to bathe, dress, feed, etc. every day, I have three. I am happy to do it – god knows she has taken more care of me over the years than one person merits, and done so generally cheerfully. It was rough on her when I first got hurt (though I don’t really remember it), and things did not get much better for more than a year. So, I owe her. Not that I think she sees it that way, but I do. And, it isn’t in the spousal sense of I owe her, but the Karmic. After all, we shouldn’t “owe” our spouses returns on care, right? Maybe if you work two jobs so your spouse can go to grad school, they then owe you the same consideration, but in the care department, well, we did say “for better or for worse.” Thankfully, that vow meant something to both of us.
Of course, “for worse” never would have entered out minds in the way that we now find ourselves in trouble. See, we are facing some extremely difficult decisions brought about by a personal financial crisis. Unfortunately, the Fed has yet to offer us a bailout package. It is up to US to resolve our own problems. I wish the banks and the auto makers could own up to the same responsibility. If we have to declare BK, why can’t they? Sometimes, a hard reset is the best route to take. Of course, I don’t employ 2.5 million people in my factories and supply chains, either.
Anyway, all I need is a job, and maybe things will begin to improve for us. We shouldn’t even be in this position, except I poured everything we had financially (effort, energy and time, too), and then some, into my company, Visionary Financial Services Group, LLC. Having just read ‘financial’ and ‘services’ in the same sentence probably immediately clued you, my clever reader, into what happened to us this year, and where we now sit…
So, another tiny piece of the puzzle is revealed. Please do me the favor of thinking about Dana as she recovers from surgery, and thinking about both of us as we try to fend off foreclosure and possibly bankruptcy. If you know of anyone hiring who could use an intelligent, hard- (and smart-) working professional with an MBA from the University of Florida, let me know!
‘Til next time…
Well, Dana had her second carpal tunnel surgery yesterday, and she is recovering at home nicely today. In fact, she is asleep, filled full of Vicodin, and snoring loudly. I am upstairs in my office, and she is downstairs in the guest room, and I can hear her up here. My wife can really snore. But that is fine. It is just one of the things that make me love her more each day.
Dana has been a real trooper with the surgeries. The first was two weeks ago, and she did great with it, even though she was in pain for several days and is still a bit uncomfortable. The second one will precipitate the same recovery timeframe, I imagine, but I cannot wait until she feels better. Now instead of two little girls to bathe, dress, feed, etc. every day, I have three. I am happy to do it – god knows she has taken more care of me over the years than one person merits, and done so generally cheerfully. It was rough on her when I first got hurt (though I don’t really remember it), and things did not get much better for more than a year. So, I owe her. Not that I think she sees it that way, but I do. And, it isn’t in the spousal sense of I owe her, but the Karmic. After all, we shouldn’t “owe” our spouses returns on care, right? Maybe if you work two jobs so your spouse can go to grad school, they then owe you the same consideration, but in the care department, well, we did say “for better or for worse.” Thankfully, that vow meant something to both of us.
Of course, “for worse” never would have entered out minds in the way that we now find ourselves in trouble. See, we are facing some extremely difficult decisions brought about by a personal financial crisis. Unfortunately, the Fed has yet to offer us a bailout package. It is up to US to resolve our own problems. I wish the banks and the auto makers could own up to the same responsibility. If we have to declare BK, why can’t they? Sometimes, a hard reset is the best route to take. Of course, I don’t employ 2.5 million people in my factories and supply chains, either.
Anyway, all I need is a job, and maybe things will begin to improve for us. We shouldn’t even be in this position, except I poured everything we had financially (effort, energy and time, too), and then some, into my company, Visionary Financial Services Group, LLC. Having just read ‘financial’ and ‘services’ in the same sentence probably immediately clued you, my clever reader, into what happened to us this year, and where we now sit…
So, another tiny piece of the puzzle is revealed. Please do me the favor of thinking about Dana as she recovers from surgery, and thinking about both of us as we try to fend off foreclosure and possibly bankruptcy. If you know of anyone hiring who could use an intelligent, hard- (and smart-) working professional with an MBA from the University of Florida, let me know!
‘Til next time…
Oops! Sorry...
For those of you that just got bombarded with e-mails from me, apologies! Every post I make to my blog generates an e-mail to you, and I was editing this evening... In the future you should get only one e-mail per post. If that is too much, let me know, and I will remove you from my list.
Hope you are well. Will talk to you soon, I promise!
Meanwhile, find me at http://noel-because.blogspot.com/.
Noel
Hope you are well. Will talk to you soon, I promise!
Meanwhile, find me at http://noel-because.blogspot.com/.
Noel
Thursday, December 11, 2008
...and a little bit more
Wow. What a start! Sometimes, the phrase “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step” REALLY tells the story. I will use this blog to comment on whatever is on my mind at each sitting, but also as a historical reference for Noel. You see, a lot has happened to me and my little family over the past few years, and I feel like it is time to try and make sense of it all. My mom told me I should write a book, but I just don’t have that in me at the moment, so I will try to sort it all out in a blog. I am not sure how this will work out over time, but I feel good having just made the first post, and now this subsequent one. The historical stuff will start from about the time Dana, my wife, and I relocated to the Charlotte, NC area for my job in the Spring of 2005. The short history is the move has been a complete disaster. COMPLETE. DISASTER. I’m not sure there is enough HTML code in the world to emphasize that. I’ll try to make sense of it as we go.
The examination of this period of time will undoubtedly require looking further back than four years, and some into the future, as well, I imagine. It will also call for some deep and serious self-introspection. I am generally good at this, but not usually until it is much too late. Maybe I can get ahead of myself on a few things by attacking it in this way. We shall see.
OK, short story is this:
· I left my job early in 2004, while in the middle of pursuing my MBA at the University of Florida
· Went to work for a completely f’d up little company in Kentucky (that gig lasted 4 months).
· Finished my MBA and my wife had our second daughter in November of ’04.
· Went back to work for previous employer, which required a move to Charlotte, NC (gee, guess who that could be – no, really, guess. I’ll give you two chances, and the first is not Wachovia/First Union) from beautiful, lovely, gosh I really miss it Jacksonville, FL.
· Suffered a traumatic brain injury in May of 2005 AT WORK (out of work for 19 months, and had a LOT of rehabilitation and recovery).
· Excitedly returned to work at BIG BANK OF NORTHERN HEMISPHERE, only to be let go the day I returned, while I was still on partial disability…
· Looked for job, could not find job, started own financial services company in mid-2007.
· CRASH!!!
· Desperately seeking work now.
The long story will be better, I promise, but will build basically on the above framework.
In the interim, I have suffered physical pain and mental anguish, detached myself from many of the things and people that meant the most to me for reasons I cannot adequately explain to you, them, or myself, and have cost many people around me something or another which I wish I had not. Explanations to come.
So, this is where we will pick things up next time, and begin to move along the dreamline… (gratuitous RUSH reference [that is two now, both from the same album/CD – interesting… {it’s not like I am Larry King or anything, but I just noticed I do like to use the ellipsis}]).
P.S. You may have gotten an e-mail pointing you to my blog. That happened on purpose. I thought of a few people I wanted to share this ride with, so I added you to my notification list. I am sorry if this is the first you have heard from me in some time; it will not be the last. Please give me some time to build on this beginning and try to reconnect to you. I hope it will be worth it for you. I said before that I miss you, and it is true; I DO miss you.
Talk to you soon…
The examination of this period of time will undoubtedly require looking further back than four years, and some into the future, as well, I imagine. It will also call for some deep and serious self-introspection. I am generally good at this, but not usually until it is much too late. Maybe I can get ahead of myself on a few things by attacking it in this way. We shall see.
OK, short story is this:
· I left my job early in 2004, while in the middle of pursuing my MBA at the University of Florida
· Went to work for a completely f’d up little company in Kentucky (that gig lasted 4 months).
· Finished my MBA and my wife had our second daughter in November of ’04.
· Went back to work for previous employer, which required a move to Charlotte, NC (gee, guess who that could be – no, really, guess. I’ll give you two chances, and the first is not Wachovia/First Union) from beautiful, lovely, gosh I really miss it Jacksonville, FL.
· Suffered a traumatic brain injury in May of 2005 AT WORK (out of work for 19 months, and had a LOT of rehabilitation and recovery).
· Excitedly returned to work at BIG BANK OF NORTHERN HEMISPHERE, only to be let go the day I returned, while I was still on partial disability…
· Looked for job, could not find job, started own financial services company in mid-2007.
· CRASH!!!
· Desperately seeking work now.
The long story will be better, I promise, but will build basically on the above framework.
In the interim, I have suffered physical pain and mental anguish, detached myself from many of the things and people that meant the most to me for reasons I cannot adequately explain to you, them, or myself, and have cost many people around me something or another which I wish I had not. Explanations to come.
So, this is where we will pick things up next time, and begin to move along the dreamline… (gratuitous RUSH reference [that is two now, both from the same album/CD – interesting… {it’s not like I am Larry King or anything, but I just noticed I do like to use the ellipsis}]).
P.S. You may have gotten an e-mail pointing you to my blog. That happened on purpose. I thought of a few people I wanted to share this ride with, so I added you to my notification list. I am sorry if this is the first you have heard from me in some time; it will not be the last. Please give me some time to build on this beginning and try to reconnect to you. I hope it will be worth it for you. I said before that I miss you, and it is true; I DO miss you.
Talk to you soon…
Why are we here...?
Yes, I am a RUSH fan. No, that is not what this blog is about.
So, why ARE we here? Well, I am here because, at the age of 40, I find myself experiencing that old cliché mid-life crisis, and I want to talk about it without boring anyone to tears in a REAL conversation. This way, if you want to excuse yourself from the conversation, you don't have to even be polite about it. Good for you, huh? Me, too, actually, as I get to talk without interruption, which many will tell you is my favorite pastime.
So, why are YOU here? Well, hopefully it is because you care about me and I told you to drop on by to see what I was up to. Maybe you have rediscovered me, your friend, by accident even though I didn't tell you to take a look. If that is the case, let me first tell you I am sorry. I have not been a very good friend to many of the most important people in my life the last few years; I think I have a good reason for that... You may not think so. Read on, however, and maybe I can share enough with you of my last three or four years to make sense of things to you. I hope so. I miss you.
Maybe you are here by accident, or are a serial blog-reader and I was next in line. Regardless, stick around, read a bit, maybe we will get to know each other. Maybe not. Either way, I wish you the best as you move to the next (probably not as well-written or exciting - I kid) blog.
<tangent>I always wanted to write. We all have the Great American Novel poking around somewhere inside of us, right? Maybe this is my Frustrated Writer alter ego working itself out. Who knows? I will promise to you, right now, that I will try to write well. Not content-wise, perhaps, but grammar-wise and American English Rules-wise. OK, content-wise, too. I am hoping to be a bit stream-of-conscious about the writing, but if it seems to read really well, with great flow and good grammar, I probably edited before publishing. Speaking of grammar, or more precisely, words/language, I try not to work blue, but I do cuss at times. You have been warned. </tangent>(aren’t HTML tags geeky?!)
I will use this space to discuss many things, most likely. My situation, my family, books I read, politics, sex, sports, the ongoing crisis in the Middle East – you know, the regular stuff. And, I will, over time, fill you in on how I got HERE, now, at this place and time, which is not such a great place and time at the moment. I hope you share the journey with me.
So, here we are. Why? …because we’re here.
So, why ARE we here? Well, I am here because, at the age of 40, I find myself experiencing that old cliché mid-life crisis, and I want to talk about it without boring anyone to tears in a REAL conversation. This way, if you want to excuse yourself from the conversation, you don't have to even be polite about it. Good for you, huh? Me, too, actually, as I get to talk without interruption, which many will tell you is my favorite pastime.
So, why are YOU here? Well, hopefully it is because you care about me and I told you to drop on by to see what I was up to. Maybe you have rediscovered me, your friend, by accident even though I didn't tell you to take a look. If that is the case, let me first tell you I am sorry. I have not been a very good friend to many of the most important people in my life the last few years; I think I have a good reason for that... You may not think so. Read on, however, and maybe I can share enough with you of my last three or four years to make sense of things to you. I hope so. I miss you.
Maybe you are here by accident, or are a serial blog-reader and I was next in line. Regardless, stick around, read a bit, maybe we will get to know each other. Maybe not. Either way, I wish you the best as you move to the next (probably not as well-written or exciting - I kid) blog.
<tangent>I always wanted to write. We all have the Great American Novel poking around somewhere inside of us, right? Maybe this is my Frustrated Writer alter ego working itself out. Who knows? I will promise to you, right now, that I will try to write well. Not content-wise, perhaps, but grammar-wise and American English Rules-wise. OK, content-wise, too. I am hoping to be a bit stream-of-conscious about the writing, but if it seems to read really well, with great flow and good grammar, I probably edited before publishing. Speaking of grammar, or more precisely, words/language, I try not to work blue, but I do cuss at times. You have been warned. </tangent>(aren’t HTML tags geeky?!)
I will use this space to discuss many things, most likely. My situation, my family, books I read, politics, sex, sports, the ongoing crisis in the Middle East – you know, the regular stuff. And, I will, over time, fill you in on how I got HERE, now, at this place and time, which is not such a great place and time at the moment. I hope you share the journey with me.
So, here we are. Why? …because we’re here.
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