Wrap up

I was scanning the obituaries in the paper as I ate lunch the other day with my best friend. I noted out loud to Jan that most obits included the hobbies and talents of the deceased. Knowing that there wouldn’t be much to write about me I asked her what she would say about my talents and interests in my obituary. She paused. I squirmed in my chair; if she had to think this long about my question it couldn’t be good.

Finally she said, “I’d say you were a devoted husband, father, and family man.”

“What? Did you just say that I voted? I said with astonishment. “Is that what you’d say, that I voted? Is that all that you could think of?"

She quickly restated that I was a devoted husband. Guess I didn’t hear clearly on that one.

It’s now become one of those jokes between she and I that make us giggle when I shake my head and say, “I voted. So, that’s all you can think of?”

This isn’t a very good transition but my A.D.D. has set in and I’ve gone off chasing balloons. So, now that the year is already 1/12 over I thought I’d take a moment and wrap up the past year.

It seems like there wasn’t much that happened during the prior year but Jan and I thought a little about that and discovered we actually did some great things. The year started with Jordan and family leaving after a great holiday season where all our kids came home. Jan and I took a quick trip to see Dad in the Bay area. In March Nicole and Noah came out for a visit. When Noah asked if we could wrestle, I felt I had arrived as a grandpa. I also felt a little bruised afterwards.

In April we struggled with career decisions and, looking back, for now any way, we made the correct choice. In June we visited Jordan and all the girls in Delaware. We went places we never had seen before and did things that helped us forget any struggles we had.

In June I also had a shift in church callings that required a lifestyle change.

In July we ate Crispy Cream donuts while sitting on blankets that lined the Provo 4th of July parade. We also brought Brittany and Maeli home to stay with us for a few weeks. At the end of the month Jan left with her sister Jeanne to take Brittany and Maeli home. That trip took nearly two weeks that included an extended expedition to Las Vegas and San Diego. It was memorable because Jan had fun, I didn’t. Later in September she took off again to Disneyland for a week. Jan had fun…I did not.

Not much more has changed.

The total ages of the cars we drive? 35

Total mileage for the two cars? 293,000

Total combined years of Jan and I? 85 (she claims she’s 29. I let her have this one.)

2011 will bring at least two grandsons joining the family this year. We have lots of plans.

What else will 2011 bring? What will be the combined years for Jan and I this new year? 86

Jan remains eternally locked in the age time warp.

I Got Physical

Yeah, I know…everyone has their own horrible stories to tell about their visit to dentist or doctor’s offices. You know what I’m talkin’ about; the dentist drilled so deeply into my tooth I thought he was trying to rescue Chilean miners. Or, the doctor probed me in places not even Homeland Security TSA’s would go.

I’ve even described some of my own experiences on this blog. Most based on truth but sometimes mildly seasoned exaggeration added. I sincerely apologize for the repeat performance but I thought what happened at my physical exam last week was pretty humorous, and, for the most part, absolutely true. That’s something you don’t get very often.

During my annual physical the doctor always leaves some time for me to share my little aches and body gripes. His usual response is, “That’s nothing to be concerned about.” I don’t know why I bother to share.

As some of you know I take a medication that’s purpose is to slow the electric impulses of the brain. I told the doctor I’d love to get off this stuff because I don’t know if my memory clog is a result of this medication or if it’s just me.

The doctor told me they could do a simple memory test that would only take a few minutes. I agreed to that along with a tetanus booster shot.

A few minutes later the nurse comes in, gives me the shot, then sits in front of the computer. In case I’d forgotten she again told me this was a simple memory test that would take just a few minutes, and some of the questions would be very mundane.

The test began:

Nurse: “What day is it?”

I moved me head a little forward, and then tilted it up, looking at the ceiling.” That’s a real good question”, I said, stalling until I could figure this one out. “Monday! It’s Monday!” I wanted to high five the nurse and give her a chest bump like excited football players do but I’m sure the test would then immediately be over.

The nurse continued as she stared at the computer screen, asking a barrage of questions about the year, what building was I in, my wife’s name…

Then came a little harder question:

“I’m going to tell you a word, she explained, “then I want you to spell it backwards.”

All my life I’ve had difficultly spelling words forward so this was going to be a challenge.

She said the word and after a brief hesitation I replied, “d…e…l…l..o…r”

“Please spell that again.” She sounded a little concerned.

Rolled wasn’t a difficult word so I spelled it backwards again.. “d…e…l…l…o…r”

She turned to me, and with a firm voice told me, “The word is world, not rolled. Spell world backwards.”

I rolled my eyes and felt like an idiot.

A few questions later she handed me a pencil and some paper. “Ok, this is the last thing I’ll have you do” she instructed, “I want you to draw me two intersecting pentagons.”

I stared at the paper for a moment and began to draw a ten sided geometric shape. “I’m a little embarrassed “ I admitted to the nurse. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had geography. How many sides does a pentagon have?”

The nurse’s forehead furrowed, “ I’m sure you mean geometry and a pentagon has five sides.”

I could feel my bald head turning hues of bright red as I focused on the drawing. My pentagons looked like the wheels on the Flintstone’s car.

I didn’t have the courage to ask the nurse how I did as she walked out of the room.

She returned a few minutes later with a bag of saline solution and a device that looked like a turkey baster. “The doctor wants your right ear irrigated.”

I’m sure the notes on my record read: Gave memory test, couldn’t tell if he has memory loss, hearing problems or if he’s a smart aleck.

I think I’m changing doctors.

The Fabric of Black Friday

(The below incident is totally true, with no exaggeration or embellishment. At least, this is the way I see it.)

“Well, are we going to get up?"

I rolled onto my back and squinted to see the time.

Jan paused a few minutes and asked again, this time rephrasing the question but with the same intention, “Is there any place you want to go?”

“Jan, it’s 5 am. The only place I want to go is the bathroom. Do you really want to get up and hit the stores?”

On any normal day Jan wouldn’t be asking a question at five in the morning but this was the day after Thanksgiving, the day referred to as Black Friday. It’s become such a part of American tradition that the word black is even capitalized when this day is mentioned.

I sat up and turned toward her, “Where would you want to go?”

“We at least need to go to Fred Meyer for the sock sale.”

We always go to Fred Meyer on Black Friday. Hey, their socks are on sale for half price until 11 and, they give out free donut holes.

“And there are a few other places I’d like to go to.”

I again looked at the time. It was 5:05 and the sun wouldn’t even be up for another two hours.

I learned long ago to let Jan have her way. It helps solidify the marriage. We actually didn’t get out of the house until around 7:30. After scraping ice off the windshield I hopped into the car and started it up.

“OK, so where’s the first stop?”

Jan hesitated, then softly whispered “I’d like to go to JoAnn’s.”

I grabbed the steering wheel in a choke hold, “Noooo! Anywhere but there!”

JoAnn wasn’t a relative, it was a fabric store, and if you know me you know my feelings about fabric stores. Being locked in a fabric store for all eternity is my vision of hell. That’s why I try to be the best I can be in this life. I may even have mentioned to Jan once or twice that to prove my love for her I’d go to hell and back, if that’s what it took to hang onto her. But that was just symbolism, I didn’t mean it literally. But, like I said, to solidify the marriage we started off toward JoAnn’s.

JoAnn’s is in the same shopping center as Best Buy so after fighting off several other cars I won a parking spot. Jan jumped out of the car. I had to run to keep up with her. Then… I walked through the gates of hell. I wondered if Hades had automatic sliding glass doors.

The store was packed, mostly with women, some still in pajama bottoms and slippers. (*the previous description is not meant to indicate that the fire and brimstone place is only filled with women) It seemed like an Easter egg hunt, the ladies scurrying up and down the aisles looking for the prized sale items.

I passed one poor fellow, waiting in the fabric cutting line with his wife. I patted him on the shoulder, “You are a very brave man to be here.” I must have startled him back from the happy place his wandering mind had escaped to, “Yeah, how you doin’? Good to see you.”

I saw several other men with hypnotic glazed stares, being pulled by the unseen tethers of womanly wiles, up and down the aisles.

I pulled out my phone and began dialing.

“Who are you calling?” Jan asked suspiciously.

“I’m phoning a friend.”

Satisfied but still mystified she turned back to her search.

I was relieved when a voice answered. “Hey Dad, What are you doing?”

I had called Jordan since he was in the Eastern Time zone and I knew he would be up and about.

“Help me….”

“I can try. We’re in the car driving to get tickets to a movie.”

I held the phone closer to my mouth, “You need to help me get outta here.”

“Where are you exactly?”

“I’m being held captive in a fabric store.”

“Hey, what time is it over there?”

I glanced at my watch. “It’s 7:45.”

Jordan’s voice began to pitch higher in unbelief, “You mean, you guys got up early, on Black Friday, and went to a fabric store?”

At this time I could hear Christina begin to laugh.

“Yes,” I replied sheepishly.

Jordan saw I was down and took another punch, showing no sympathy. “How long did you camp outside the store waiting for it to open?”

I heard Christina and Jordan both laughing now.

I went silent as a woman walked closely by, checking items off the advertising pre-print she carried like a score card.

“Well Dad, what I do when Christina goes into a store like that I find somewhere else to go.”

“I’ve already been to all my happy places.”

“No, I don’t mean mentally. Like take off to Best Buy or somewhere until Mom finishes. We’re here, gotta go. Good luck, Dad.”

I hung up, losing hope in any help coming to my aid.

‘That’s it,” Jan popped. “Let’s get in the checkout line.”

I stood motionless for a moment in disbelief.

Jan tugged firmly on my arm, “Come on! The line isn’t getting any shorter.”

I counted 20 women waiting impatiently to check out. The line funneled everyone into one long chute. A woman in front asked about where else we’d been to. She rattled off several stores she’d added to her bargain conquest list.

I have to admit that JoAnn’s does have one of the best candy assortments displayed on shelves in the checkout line. Some classic candy bars I don’t see around much. The strategy was the candy was either a bribe or a reward for children and husbands who’ve endured to the end.

Women flocked to this store because of a coupon offering a large discount on all purchases. The cashiers loudly told those checking out how much they had saved.

“You just saved $30!” one cashier shouted.

“Wow, thank you!” one lucky customer excitedly answered.

The cashier then boasted, “One woman I checked out today saved $2,600.”

I turned to Jan, shaking my head, “How do you spend that much money to get a $2,600 savings?”

Finally one of the cashiers waved us over, “I’ll check you out.”

Once freed from the gates of perdition I paused, deeply inhaling the chilled morning air, relishing my emancipation.

A yank on my shirt sleeve startled me from my dream.

“Come on!” Jan said with breathless excitement. “Craft Warehouse has something I need to look at.”

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!”

The Scale of Pain

The automatic doors of the emergency room opened as I stumbled into the lobby.“Hey! Hey! I need some help!” Slumping into a nearby chair, a nurse walked over with a clipboard.

“What’s wrong? What’s the matter with you?"

“I fell and think I broke my arm."

"OK, wait here. I’ll bump you up in line."

Soon the nurse came pushing a wheel chair my direction. “Here, let me help.”She put her hand under my arm to help steady me.

“AHHH, that’s the arm that’s broken!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She moved to the other side and helped slide me into the chair.

“Let’s get you into an examination room.”

I sat in the wheel chair for several minutes before a doctor parted the curtain.

“So, what’s your problem?”

“I fell and think I broke my arm.”

“Which one?”

“The one I’m holding.. “

He took the arm and raised it slightly.

Aaaahhhh!

“Does that hurt?”

“No, I scream like that all the time in hospitals!”

“OK, I need to assess your pain level. On a scale of 1 to 10, what level is your pain?”

“What?”

“On a scale of…"

“I heard you, what does that even mean?”

“Well, if you think one is the lowest pain level, and ten is the most excruciating pain…”

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what a ten feels like. What’s a one supposed to be?”

“Maybe a pin prick could be a level one. It sort of depends on you.”

"OK, so, paper cuts make my entire hand throb. To me, that could be pretty high up the scale- Then a broken arm would be off the charts.”

“That’s not possible in this scenario. Pain can only register as high as a ten."

“So…what if I told you this was a level ten pain?”

“I’d give you more pain killer.”

“All right then, this is a ten. Now, bring on the drugs.”

“Before we do that there are a few questions I need to ask. Are you allergic to any medication? If so, on a scale of one to ten how severe is the reaction?"

“I die.”

“I’ll put that as an eight.”

“Wouldn’t death be a ten?”

“Not necessarily. It’s said there are worse things than death.”

“Oh, fine.”

“I need to have an MRI taken of the break. On a scale of one to ten, what’s your level of panic you experience when going through the coffin like tube?”

“I’d say that’s a five.”

“So, you experience average panic?”

“I guess so.”

“One more question before we proceed.’

“Promise me this will be the last one.”

“On a scale of one to ten, what is your level of embarrassment you experience walking through the office wearing one of these gowns that exposes your backside?”

“Where'd you learn about this one to ten scale business?”

“In medical school.”

“Well…on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate yourself as a doctor?’

“Based on comparisons with others, I’d say I’d be pushing a three.”

“A three? Are you crazy?”

“No, I’m a doctor.”

“On a scale of one to 10, what’s the likelihood of getting me outta here?”

“On a scale of one to ten, what’s your ability to pay for these services?”

“I’m at a ten in wanting to cinch your tie around your neck!”

“Hmm…you’re the tenth person who’s said that today.”

“Want to know on a scale of one to ten how I’d recommend this place to anyone in the universe! It’s a negative billion!”

“That can’t be sir. The scale only goes to ten.”

“Ahhhhhhh!”