the someday sessions.

The final track.on this album

2007-09-17T16:20:00.000-07:00

So I think this album is done.

Someday is here.

2007-08-21T15:52:00.001-07:00

old skool internet makin a come back

2007-08-11T19:33:00.001-07:00

harpoon flat

2007-08-11T18:14:00.001-07:00

A review of our pad, and a visit to our place. And the descriptive word swank works for me.

2007-07-12T00:14:00.001-07:00

"if its wet and not yours, don't touch it"

2007-07-11T07:41:00.000-07:00

The tide has turned and i wait for the other shoe to drop.

Mixed metaphors can be effective sometimes.

Life is good. Very good. So good that sometimes I don't know what to do with it.

The doctors and I have found a medical regimen that works for me, that takes away my pain almost completely. It is bizarre, I had almost surrendered to the pain. Taken it in and realized it as part of me, part of what I would have to deal with for the rest of my life. And now it is gone.

Secondly I have found a job I love, working for a non-profit and doing good in the world; something that I can see a measurable and obvious change, and I am surrounded by people trying to achieve it. Being immersed in optimism is incredibly good for me. Incredibly good. Its so nice to not be working to line some CEO's pockets.

I am at peace and I think it shows daily; the small problems that pop up are nothing in comparison to what I have walked through for a second time and I relish their small challenges.

I know joy again, i had almost forgot it existed. Thank you God.

the army begins

2007-05-07T16:19:00.000-07:00

Emily is gonna have a boy.

yaay.

2007-05-05T02:58:00.000-07:00

her sideways glance is deadly.

Everybody hates Chris (with a less funny more white chris)

2007-05-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

me: my life is a perpetual never ending sitcom

orionsbyte: is there a laugh track?

me: i dont know

orionsbyte: if not, would you like there to be?

me: yeah, then i would know when to laugh

thank you for spending your last night on earth with me...

2007-04-15T23:39:00.000-07:00

Clarence Carl Shimer 1918-2007
Rest in Peace
(you've earned it)

strawberry fields forever

2007-04-10T23:44:00.000-07:00

today my uncle and I made the decision to not put my grandfather on dialysis.

we confirmed it with my aunts and uncles.

he has 2 to 5 days.

on a whim i stopped and bought strawberries from a local stand.

-----life can be pretty dark, but a bite from a freshly picked, deliciously juicy strawberry, can make the shadow disappear even for a moment.

And while that's a bit hedonistic, I believe my grandfather, the farmer, would deeply appreciate that sentiment.

the bad eclipses the good;the good will eclipse the bad

2007-04-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

i dont know what to write

My grandfather (who 've written about here and here) is in the hospital. his kidney's are failing. he's dying in a bed as I write this. the doctors and nurses are making him "comfortable".

To me growing up he was a patriarch, as formidable as Abraham and Jacob. He was our church's "wise counsel" and any fundamental idea of a godly man I have, is of him.

My sister inspired this post because she did not want to see him in a bed in the hospital. She wanted to remember him as the robust farmer who would bring us fresh picked cherries and vine-ripened tomatoes even at eighty five, laughing as we admonished him not to go on his rickety old ladder.

As she said that I realized while that was one memory I held of him, it wasn't my only one. Flashbacks of his slide into dementia and meanness (especially to my mother) while he lived in our home ran through my head, my picture of him as a person definitely wasn't as rosy.

It's not his fault. And I acknowledge I am pretty evil for letting those memories get in the way, but at the same time I am being honest.

And so it made me ponder the person i was before i became "sick" (though 'm not sure whether that delineation begins at my accident, or my tumours) and how much meaner, or ruder (not a word I know), or darker I am now, and how that affects people's views of me as a person. And that not many see the whole line of my life, including the light hearted insanely silly person I used to be.

Various addendums

Mark called and he asked how I was---my closest approximation was that someone has decided I am a pinata to be struck and sent twirling over and over. (though cracking me open would only cover the scampering children in blood and guts, though maybe the tumours would be shaped like little candies-they do look circular on the MRI)

Taking your mother in to say goodbye to her father is horrendously gut wrenching and tear inducing.

"There is no plan"

2007-03-07T00:00:00.000-08:00

"Ok, so what do I do about the pain then?"

"You just have to come to the realization that this is who you are, now."

observations of my weirdness # 42

2007-02-16T16:52:00.001-08:00

So I find it interesting that every question someone asks me when they first meet me leads to my reply beginning with.... "Well, ...sigh.. its a long story but...."

Think she'll be my valentine?? (yes it's rhetorical)

2007-02-12T12:13:00.000-08:00

I don't think I could be more in love with Tina Fey.

unexpected phone calls

2007-02-11T18:36:00.000-08:00

So I think I might not fear the phone anymore. The waiting for a sudden call, a sudden call of bad news that is hung in the back of my mind since I got the call about Dad. How a phone call could change your life so tragically and instantaneously. That fear has hung back in the corners of my mind for a long time.

But luckily the phone has potential for great news as well. That call came on Friday. My sister is pregnant!!

And I get to be an uncle.

And that is truly great news.

And my family has needed that, especially with all I have put them through of late.

I for the first time might actually be a little sad i don't live in Yuba City anymore.

I said a little.

2007-01-28T18:10:00.000-08:00

there is nothing better than a post-church nap.

i am weak

2007-01-19T02:49:00.000-08:00

I used to have a copy of "the Velveteen Rabbit" when I was little. It was lush and velvety and leather bound. The drawings were brown ink with detail so intricate that I would stare at them for hours. It was a beautiful book and I loved the story.

The ending is where I would get stuck. At the end, the stuffed rabbit ready to be burned and destroyed cries one actual tear and becomes real. The last illustration had the tear suspended and dangling in the air. It represented to me in that childlike way a magic to me; a magic of faith and dreams, all suspended in that bit of brown ink and prose.

I remember trying to recreate that magic; by generating a tear. Sitting on my front stoop, I would close the book, and squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to use my very force of will to believe something to reality. That magic tear obviously never came, and no stuffed rabbits (or penguins for that matter), ever came to life. Though I never once doubted that the magic was there, just that my will was not strong enough.

Plenty of tears come now; there's just no more belief in any kind of magic.

been gone a while....

2006-12-08T02:36:00.000-08:00

The worst thing about getting bad news is telling it to everyone else afterwards

I havent written because nothing new had really happened I was still in pain and I was still waiting for doctors appointments.

But finally the ball has started to roll, so much so that I had a MRI and then today (technically yesterday) was my birthday and also the follow up which was billed as a surgical consult. A day I had hoped would give me a surgery date, one that hopefully would be before 2007 so that I could put the year 2006 in the dustbin of history where it so obviously belonged.

I built this appointment up in my head, even with my cynical side constantly admonishing me to be wary, I built it up as a day to be able to see the rest of my life again. I mean it was my birthday, a day that was always enjoyable if not spectacular to me for most of my life. I greeted the day with joy and even with missing a bus by mere minutes I dtill joyously said hello to the next driver in my most gregarious manner. And yes for all my antisocial tendencies I can be quite outgoing if I want to, there just has to be a conscious flipping of that mental switch.

As you can tell this is not going to end well.....

(the greatest moment of the day was my sister having her class sing happy birthday over the phone to me with all the glee and vigor every child gets when hearing the word birthday.)

Once in the examination room the surgeon comes in, sits down across from me and says "well, this is gonna be a lot more complicated than I thought....."

I look at him, eyebrow raised questioningly.
(all my hope and prayer for a speedy end to this ordeal sits on the precipice of this moment, mere seconds later they were dashed to the ground. But, for that one moment they hung there waiting)

He says, "It seems you have over 11 growth/lesions growing all down your aorta vein from the T4 to the T11 and possibly many more. I am not sure what to do, we need to send you to neurology for a consult."

As he leaves he turns back and asks are you sure no one else in your family has this?

Smirking, I said no I got all the luck in the family.

It made him laugh, and it seemed his day was going well.

I have told this story over 12 times already today and I still haven't really processed it. He gave me the MRI report; I read it over and over and it is a blur of words that I understand the syntax and the meaning of yet it doesnt seem to cross into the land of retaining the meaning.

Oh and they are selling the house we are living in currently, hence I have to find a new place to live soon. very soon.

So today was a birthday, not a happy birthday.

So if you just briefly scan the piece only the good news will pop out thus making this a happy post.... see i try....

2006-10-19T14:45:00.000-07:00

an actual journalist! its been a while...

all i have to say is.... amen

No news is good news?!?

2006-10-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

still no word on a surgery date

still tired

still sick

still tired of being sick

good news is an understatement

2006-09-16T00:50:00.000-07:00

So at 3:45 today, I was pretty low, I had just left the pharmacy where the doctor had not called in a prescription for me, which meant I would spend the weekend in tremendous pain. I had fainted in the bathroom of the movie theatre where I had just gone and seen a movie, Half Nelson (which was great btw, I fully recommend it) and had not realized how sick or how much recovery I had still to do from my biopsy this past wednesday. (If you know my mother and read this journal in honor of me having shared this link with you, I implore you not to tell her about the fainting spell, it was over quickly, and my mom already is beside herself with worry and tormenting herself needlessly because she isn't down here in the city to take care of me. At least with the accident and the wheelchair I was at home, though I secretly suspect it was worse to see her invalid son daily.)

I left the pharmacy dark, depressed and resolved to just type one sentence in my journal: "I am so tired of my constant pain."

I have a weird thing about being sick I am constantly trying to convince myself I am not sick, whether it be the flu or something bigger like this, that I am a hypochondriac just attempting to make normal body aches and pains into something bigger and more dramatic. Because that just means I am delusional and not that my body is constantly betraying me, that my narrative is and will continue to be one of sickliness. Sometimes it works to convince yourself the pain isnt there. at least for an hour or two. Mostly it doesnt, you end up exhausting yourself and making you less able to deal with the pain you do have.

At 5:15 slumped in a park attempting to shield myself from the blustery wind I got a call. It was my doctor, she had my biopsy results and apologized for not getting to me sooner. She is the clinic manager who just happened to see me the day I came in to complain about my side pain, (something obviously divinely guided) I don't think anyone else at the clinic would've been able to do as much as this angel has done for me.

She said the biopsy came back negative.

It was benign.

I don't have cancer.

I don't have lymphoma.

I have what is called a ganglioneuroma

I essentially need to have surgery to have it removed, and then I will be okay.

Everyone asked me if I was scared. I said no, and most looked at me as if i was in denail or being intentionally blase. But like I told them, God has taken me this far, through Dad's death, through junior rheumatoid arthritis, through ulcerative colitis, through a vicious car accident and six months of a wheelchair, and now He's brought me through this. I am not saying it was easy. It wasn't. At all. And I know it's not done, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. An end to the pain. And He brought me through.

And mostly that was through the thoughts, the prayers, the well wishes, the concerns, the phone calls, the e-mails, the hugs, the talks at the beach, the intentionally preoccupying of my mind especially on the bad days; i made it through because of all of you.

A bit maudlin and sappy I know, but 'm happy and relieved.

Peace.

a blankish sorta post of nothings

2006-09-14T02:38:00.000-07:00

It is 2:32 am, I have no idea why I am awake, other than the fact I have slept most of today and yesterday. And yet I know if I would actually lay down in bed I would pass out immediately. I am so tired the cookie crumb sitting idly by my keyboard keeps trying to convincing me it is a bug in a weird "lets fool chris" pact it has going with my peripheral vision. It took me a minute to remember how to spell idly and I didn't even attempt to spell peripheral correctly at all. I am kind of a blank slate feelings wise as I wait for a call from a doctor of some sort. And yes I do realize no doctor is gonna call at 2:37 am, but you never know you could have some bizarrely diligent doctor who got bored, then again I cannot even get them to call me during normal doctor hours even after three thousand messages asking for a call. I realized today that my biopsy was the third extremely long needle thrust into my numbed body for a test of some sort. That has to be a record of some sort. Well maybe not a world record, but at least an on this block record and definitely an in this house record.

discussion prior to biopsy attempt the second

2006-09-13T21:49:00.000-07:00

Doctor:
{Insert lengthy explanation of procedure plus list of all the horrible ways it could go wrong here}

Me: Ok (as I sign)

Doctor: Any questions?

Me: Can I see the needle??

Doctor(incredulously): And, um, can I ask why you would want to see it?

Me: Because I am insanely curious about everything.

Doctor: (long pause while looking at me intently): yeah. I dont think that would be a good idea. its reeally long. and scary.

Yes, I realize my feet are so white they are blinding....

2006-09-06T22:02:00.000-07:00

So in a fit of boredom I wandered on to craigslist.org and to the free section. And lo and behold I saw a link for a free pool table. Now granted I suck at playing pool, but mainly because I never play and when I am given the chance my suckage leads me to playing for about five minutes before my competitor has sunk all the balls. I hesitated to call the gentleman, because it had been a few hours and I assumed a free pool table would be snapped up instantly. But as you can see, it wasn't and now yours truly owns a pool table of epic proportions. And soon enough I will be making Joe and Josh cry as I crush their little pool playing dreams.

2006-08-23T00:08:00.000-07:00

Just wait for the old man....

Libraries, traffic school, classrooms, church, are all places where you are supposed to be deadly silent, and are all places I have been kicked out of for uncontrollable laughter. I would fail miserably at this japanese game show,"Silent Library", but it made me crack up laughing when I saw it. So much so that Joe had to stop by and find out what was so hilarious.

Comics, comics, and more comics. About a long box full.

2006-08-19T19:02:00.000-07:00

Wanna know the best way to escape inarticulatable frustration at your doctors lack of a call about the latest step in your fight for your health as your pain escalates?

Comics, and more importantly a plethora of good comics, at twenty cents a piece. I am talking full Morrison runs of Doom Patrol and New X-men, Allred X-Statix and X-force, and almost complete run of Hate. Couple those with miscellaneous issues of comic goodness that I have and haven't heard of, making those future days of lying darkly in bed not as bad.

A whole hearted thank you and tip of the hat to Jeff Lester of Comix Experience for spreading the wealth. It's appreciated. And any time your wife needs more closet space Joe and I are at your service.

"if you are gonna get cancer, this is the one you want....."

2006-08-01T00:48:00.000-07:00

I sit here vicodin coursing through my veins, a slight warm intoxicating buzz surrounds my senses, but not enough to dull the pain.

The doctors aren't sure what the pain's specific reason is (shades of the accident I realize), but they believe it is probably related to my enlarged lymph node next to my kidney. No one wants to say it to me in so many words, but they seem pretty sure its lymphoma.

Now how would you know that, you ask?

Well, my non-trusting doctor skills led me to review and copy my CT scan they foolishly let me transport to my specialist appointment. And the CT scan reader proclaimed with an almost bored certainty the aforementioned diagnosis. I played that sound file on the scan, over and over and over and over.

Secondly, the specialist mentioned lymphoma as a possibility and one by one all of the other possibilities fell to the way side along with the tests that negated them. I go in for another more comprehensive CT on the fourth and see the doctor again on the tenth. Eventually they want to do a biopsy of the lymph node, but they have to make sure that the inserting needle won't damage my entangled kidney as they steal a piece. The biopsy will be the ultimate arbiter of my fate.

Much personal research was done and it seems of all the cancers you can get lymphoma is the best, with the least possible relapse chances. And it sounds like all the related words like chemo and removal of the mass apply.

So I am in that medical grey area once more full of guesses, pain, prayers, depression, and most importantly hope.

Once more into the breach........

LP 1

2006-08-01T00:26:00.000-07:00

The first album sits quietly on the shelf.

Give it a spin....