Part One

Look, Ma, I'm blogging!  I must have extra time on my hands to be doing this.  Been curious about this for a while.  What is blogging all about anyway?

1. The resurrection of the obsolete practice of correspondence and letters.
2. A legitimate form of information dissemination.
3. Mere opinionating and little else.
4. A valuable tool for maintaining relationships.
5. Shameless self-aggrandizement / public masturbation.
6. All of the above?

In any event, I'm going to try it and see of it goes anywhere.  All of you know that I am a shy and retiring person, for whom expressing any thoughts or opinions is difficult hurdle to overcome.  You know this as well as you are familiar with the many Chicago Cubs world championships we have celebrated together.

So this is a practice round to discover if (a) I enjoy doing this and (b) if anyone else finds it interesting, or if I'm just talking to myself, which would be far from the first time.  The title I've chosen for Blog #1 gives you a fair idea of what's coming.  Sorry, I guess half of everyone who catches the Big C gets told to do this kind of crap as part of the recovery process or whatever.  That's not really what I'm doing here tho . . . I'm just practicing on Blogger and I thought some people I know might be interested.  I tried to keep it brief; perhaps you'll find it mildly interesting and/or amusing.

So here goes:  During the week or so before Independence Day week, I'm tooling around central and southern Colorado for my job as a Loss Control Rep for Overland Solutions Inc.  What I do is inspect commercial properties and businesses and then file reports to insurance providers about whether these businesses are OK insurance risks, and also make recommendations to both parties if required.  You don't need to know any more about the job other than it requires a LOT of travel on my part.

You might ask:  When and how did you stop selling home entertainment products, like you did for over 25 years, and switch to this?  Details of that are not really important, other than to comment that keeping my nice house with a pool in Albuquerque suddenly loomed as more attractive than residing in a large Frigidaire carton.

Back to Colorado: it's a weird trip already.  Half the state is burning down and I'm blocked from reaching several planned destinations in places like Colorado Springs, South Fork, etc.  I complete a big loop around the state and start to head back into New Mexico when suddenly I find I'm actually in Wackyland.  The place where double vision takes over and I have to either decide between which of the two roads I'm seeing I want to drive on, or pulling over and waiting 15 min for it to pass.

Anyway, I manage to make it home alive, and the following week is an "office week" in which I write up my reports and plan my travel for the following week.  But things get weirder quickly.  Dizziness and a lack of balance has me knocking stuff over and breaking it.  Headaches that wave from mild pain to ones that almost make me pass out when I stand up.  But the thing that launches me out of the house and into the urgent care clinic is this:

I write a sentence that says something like this: "Business opened as LLC in December 2010."  What I see on the page is "Busxxsde pigbyu as KKJ ix 3255."  WTF??  I delete it and re-type the same gibberish.  Nice knowin' ya, brain.

So it's off to a local urgent care clinic called ABQ Health Partners with Pam.  (This is also where my cousin Nick's wife Andrea works as a Physician's Assistant.)  After a basic exam, then a CAT scan, then an MRI, a really great urgent care clinic doctor named Raul Griegos, who managed to make all this happen in one day, is giving me news I wasn't ready for: you got a big-ass mass in the back of your skull, brother.  Next stop: University of New Mexico Neurosurgery Clinic.

Flash-forward past more tests and MRI's and all the paperwork, schedule changes, and other various bureaucratic hell it takes to get set up for surgery at UNM Hospital, not to mention dealing with taking disability time off from my job, dealing with multiple insurance companies and other nightmares from hell I can't think about if I actually want to get better.

It's now July 2 and I'm finally meeting the neurosurgeon who will be doing the cutting: Dr. Martina Stippler, a slim blonde in her late 30's with a heavy Austrian accent.  Fantastic!  This is exactly what a brain surgeon is supposed to look and sound like!  Except I can't understand half of what she's saying . . . like when she's telling me about being careful working around something called "wains."  I look to Pam for help and she translates in a low voice: "veins."


July 15 6:00 am: skull-lopping day.  After the customary wait, I get wheeled in and proceed to be visited by Dr. Stippler the surgeon, various other doctors, anesthesiologists, nurses, and seemingly dozens of people who will be involved.  Pam and Caroline are there, and my cousin Nick and his wife Andrea are already in the waiting room.  I'm offered anti-anxiety drugs in case I'm freaking out over this but I'm surprisingly calm about the whole deal.  Finally it's showtime, and kissing Pam y Caroline adios is the last thing I remember about this day.

Next thing I'm told, I'm back in recovery after successful brain surgery.  I'm in good spirits, talking to the doctor and to Pam and Caroline and Nick and Andrea and other people.  At least that's what they tell me; I don't remember a single moment of any of this.  They have good drugs in that hospital.

So I guess I pretty much sleep nonstop for about a day, then I'm awake with Pam on Tuesday.  Feeling pretty good!  All my headaches are gone and even the surgery incision doesn't hurt much, but I think at this point they just have loaded up on Oxy pretty good.  In fact, the only thing causing me any real discomfort is the catheter they stuck in me, which I start pleading with the nurse to remove.  So they get that goddamn medieval torture instrument off little Steve, and after a few squirts during the day that feel like pissing fire I'm OK down there again.

Andrea and her daughter Miranda visit during the day, then Nick stops by in the evening and we watch the MLB All-Star Game, which turns out to be boring as hell, a 3-zip yawner won by the AL.  After Nick leaves I crash, but wake up at 2 am and can't get back to sleep.  The nurse takes me on a few strolls thru the recovery room during the rest of the evening but I don't have anything to read.  She finds some cancer literature I can read, later I get breakfast, then I just sit around waiting to get sprung from the hospital.

So . . . I show up at the hospital at 6 am Monday and by mid-afternoon on Wednesday I'm heading home after major brain surgery.  Amazing, huh?  After a day or two I stop using the Oxy and switch to just Tylenol for any pain or discomfort, of which there is actually little.

So that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  There's a lot more to the story of course, but I'm going to close out my first-ever "blog" for now.  We'll see if anyone has the slightest interest before I start the next installment.  Or who knows, maybe I'll just write it to amuse myself.

One last note before I finish.  Obviously a bizarre experience that I'd never wish on anyone . . . well, maybe on a few former "leaders" of this country I can think of.  After careful consideration I decided to be pretty public about it, as you saw in various emails, photos, and Facebook posts from me.  That was the best decision I could have made.  I cannot begin to tell you how rewarding, gratifying, and comforting I found the outpouring of support from family, dear old friends, newer friends, casual acquaintances, and even people I barely know.  Who woulda thunk a surly old bastard like me would receive all this love and support?  You are all simply the best . . . better than all the rest!

But of course the best among you is my saintly and long-suffering wife Pam.  Love you to the end, Baby!

So, until my next "blog" (if any), I'll leave you with my standard farewell from my favorite TV action heroes, The Cisco Kid and his trusty sidekick Pancho:

"GOODBYE AMIGOS!"  "SEE YOU SOON!"  "HAH!"

Post-Surgery Head Shot!