Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Rambling
Im not sure if im suffering from "writers block" or what the deal is.....It's taken me so long to get to this point, which really is'nt to far.
When i began this "little" project, i had a book in mind....now im not so sure that what i have to share is all that informitive in the scheem of the MS world.
When i began i personaly knew of three other people with MS. There were also alot of people who knew someone with it.
When i was diagnosed, i really dont think i had an inkling of what this sentance would mean for me. It's kinda like when your a kid and your parents tell you they are getting a divorce. Initialy when mine told me i was like that guy in the bilge of the Valdeze in Water world when the smoker throws a match down the hatch. The old man charged with keeping track of the oil levels sees this and blurts out "Oh Thank God" But then your world changes in ways you were'nt prepaired for "like it or not" its so "not fair." No, no its not, it's not fucking fair at all.....but its gonna happen none the less. So i chose southern Cal with my Pa. I figured id go where the women "put out" (at 14) It was gonna be like i was an Elk, i was gonna have a new Doe like every week..lol. What i thought was gonna happen and what actually transpired were two entirely different things. There was SOME goings on with the "Hot Bettys" but nothing near what i had invisioned for myself. Aim High i always say.
When i showed up for my first neuro appointment amongst other things i was givin a book about MS. "This an owners manual?" "You could say that" i began thumbing through it "It tells of different symptoms and ways to deal with each." I constantly had my nose in that book looking for the term that matched the symptom i was going thru. I remember seemed like everytime i cracked that book open, it always opened to the wheelchair section "Buuuullllshit!" i would always verbalize and rush my way to other chapters.
At that time Facebook was just in the "Welp" stage of the Dragon it was to become. I was able to get in communication with a friend whose woman i lerned had had the diseise as well...Although we had never had a face to face conversation, she became sorta my "Goto Betty" i was always asking questions about syptoms, mental trash, booze, Medical Marjahootchee etc. etc...
It was alarming to find out she and as i found out later a ton of other folks go unmedicated, the reasons are usually, insurance is the bigest one, MS is super spendy, or the Medications dont work the way they should or like myself were down to using the possible death by brain infection inducing Tysabri and unlike myself said "Fuck that noise." And insted choosing an alturnative approach using things like DIET, fish oil, massive doses of vitimin D and a grip of other homieopathic remodys.
The course of my Multipal sclerosis has pitted me up against most of the immidiate people in my life. Wife, two older sons and my 4 year old does'nt really have any choice but to be "Part of the crew, part of the ship"....or however it goes. Im at worlds end with Jack Sparow. "NOBODY MOVE!! I lost me brain....."
Friends have always been apart of my own personal ecosystem. I've always held my friendships in high reguard, atleast as best as this dude could. There have been times that my thinking became all fucked up and i actually screwd over a few as well. Not a bunch but the few that i have, at there perspective times, i did so with the quality like i was a pro.
Now i spend alot of my time alone podering the ugly inventory of rotton things i've visited upon others. When i break all those situations, it forces me to believe : This is how life has returned the black magic ive manifested in my time here. The Universe has always had a way of keeping it's own enventory on all of its creations.So it should be no supprise that the "Great spirit put mein this chair. Is it his way of saying "You need to have a seat and look around....see what you aint beenseeing!!! Get your head out of them tree's and think about some shit!!!"
Sunday, September 9, 2012
The Eve of the Last Walk.
Ironic that my Mom would give me a present for Mothers Day. She brought me a Willow branch walking stick she erned at a fund raiser of some sort. "Here honey this is for you. I thought you could use it to help keep you from falling down." She had herd my many tails of traveling all the way to the earth unaided.
As much as i hated seeing myself using the thing it really was exacly what i needed. And then some.
I wanted nothing more than to stay on the coutch at home. But i also really wanted to spend that day with my family. I honestly believed whole heartedly that this was my last day. I was getting the needle the next day.
Tysabri and all the signatures i had thrown down saying i understood the risks associated with the drug. "One in a thousand...." i just knew that i was going to be that one that got the rare brain infection and "bought it."
I really took time to absorb all aspects of that day. The conversations, the Mothers Day brunch, the smells from the kitchen, the way the food tasted, the extra warmth and light the sun offered that morning.
As at most Mothers day breakfasts many different generations were present. From the anchent and honery to my todler who is also quite capable of letting one know how its gonna be. But there was no issues with anyone that morning. Alot of our thoughts were with my wifes aunt who passed away that winter scuba diving.
Agian the word legacy came to my mind. In a conversation with Sunny her daughter i remember the topic of being proud of her mom. "She may be gone but atleast she left a surreal amout of legacy in her wake. I mean you had to turn away a giant line at her viewing after like 4 hours of visiters." It was really more like 6 or 7 hours. There were so many people you would have thought Elvis passed agian. Cindy had touched so many peoples lives on so many different levels. So much that people were willing to wait like 2 hours to have that final conversation with her.
Seeing that many folks show up really put things in perspective (once agian) for I thought about all the places i had been and all the different people i met. Even if i had put a sweet taste in all there mouths, without a dbout it still would'nt come any where near the amout of people lined up to see Cindy [off].
As much as i hated seeing myself using the thing it really was exacly what i needed. And then some.
I wanted nothing more than to stay on the coutch at home. But i also really wanted to spend that day with my family. I honestly believed whole heartedly that this was my last day. I was getting the needle the next day.
Tysabri and all the signatures i had thrown down saying i understood the risks associated with the drug. "One in a thousand...." i just knew that i was going to be that one that got the rare brain infection and "bought it."
I really took time to absorb all aspects of that day. The conversations, the Mothers Day brunch, the smells from the kitchen, the way the food tasted, the extra warmth and light the sun offered that morning.
As at most Mothers day breakfasts many different generations were present. From the anchent and honery to my todler who is also quite capable of letting one know how its gonna be. But there was no issues with anyone that morning. Alot of our thoughts were with my wifes aunt who passed away that winter scuba diving.
Agian the word legacy came to my mind. In a conversation with Sunny her daughter i remember the topic of being proud of her mom. "She may be gone but atleast she left a surreal amout of legacy in her wake. I mean you had to turn away a giant line at her viewing after like 4 hours of visiters." It was really more like 6 or 7 hours. There were so many people you would have thought Elvis passed agian. Cindy had touched so many peoples lives on so many different levels. So much that people were willing to wait like 2 hours to have that final conversation with her.
Seeing that many folks show up really put things in perspective (once agian) for I thought about all the places i had been and all the different people i met. Even if i had put a sweet taste in all there mouths, without a dbout it still would'nt come any where near the amout of people lined up to see Cindy [off].
Sunday, August 26, 2012
I see ;7
Night time is when things always seemed to be there worst. Pain increased, those ants that tormented me all the time would rrrrrrreally go to town at night.
When i would sit-lay down, it was never for more than ten or so minutes. Between the inability to get into a position of comfort and the fear that my body would not get up agian, i would constantly do the "rounds" stagering the loop though the rooms in my house.
While in the middle of some laps one night my legs began to sorta hyperextend. I would go to take a step and my knee joint would not just lock up but it actually felt as though it should be working in reverse of what that joint is supposed to. Sorta like a kangaroo, obviously whith out all the fuckn hopping. Sometimes this would cause alot of pain because at times, somehow my brain had convinced my knee that "this is how we're gonna do things bitch!". I seriously thought my knee cap was gona moonwalk itself to the pit of my leg. When this would happen it was excrusiating. To break the trance my brain had on the joint i would bitch slap the shit outa my knee pits. This caused me tohit the earth quite a bit, glancing off of funiture at times.took there toll on my hot bodd.
The bowell issues i had endured up till now had me so scared i was gonna shit my pants at any time, all the time. With an inability to identify much less hold any kind of gas! When i walked around gas would do what it always does. But i could not do what i would udoubtibly do like regulate my trasmision in the immediate atomosphere. "Thhhhup thhhhhup thhhhuuuuuupp!!!" That would send me to the banyo like every twenty minutes. Not wanting to ever share an Idaho experence with the fam, i was taking no chances. Doing the stand up sit down, check, stand up and squat real slow like soas to coax anything hiding out, give the Elvis push, check agian. Sometimes i would preform this systems check four or five times. These new proceedures took there toll on the familys cache of buttwipe. Thank the lord for Cosco and the kirkland family reunion sized TP.
It probibly goes without saying but i'll say it anyhow. These many throne visits caused a serious case of ONE RED ASS. In my case, uber monkey butt. Any normal dayly ache or pain one has to endure, could be mutiplyed by like 8 sometimes 10 at others.
One night, while in transit to the beloved banyo i damn near riped off my lower jaw possibly my whole fuckn face.
Making it in with the stealth of a junky, closing the door then i would turn on the light. It was while doing this that it happend. After fliping the switch on i turned to stager twords the throne but my feet did'nt recive the memo and stayed planted. Same old shit except my decent was delayed by the hang up between my jaw and the countertop. It all happend so quick the reflex to self preserve was so weak it could not be implimented till damn near impact. So my jaw hung on the countertop just right, it got to bear the weight of my body, causing my whole head to roll back in pez dispencer fashion. Not only that but i felt pain at the base of my skull which had me in fear of jamming my brainstem out the top of my dome.
When the dust settled i was on the floor laboring to breeth, unable to swallow with a torn up face. It was so painfull. Instinktively i felt around my grill just knowing my lower jaw was gonna be hangn by one side or the other, which it wasnt.
By now my wife was thuroghly awake and rushed in "What the fuck!!?"
The next day i was walking through the family room to the kitchen for fresh coffee and stoped to look out a window. As i finished my gaze agian i turned to make my way to the coffee, agian my feet did'nt budge. My balance and weight were forced tword the window "Oh fuck!!" Knowing the outcome of this could be with me bleeding to death.
Its funny, there a few different ways i react to things. One way is to simply stop the action. Another is to choose the lesser of two evils. Another is tocover up and just accept im about to hurt. But with a double pained window, my mind simply will not be silenced with "cover up and except". No my mind goes into worst case senario in certian situations, such as this. Lots of different visuals play in my head in like a milisecond. The outcomes played in my head involved me being damf neer halfed were it not for my spine. One played with the outcome every artery in my upper body sliced. Another had my body coming to rest in the family room and my head rolling to rest in the backyard.
The out come my mind did'nt give an possibility to was: As they all begain. With me falling like a tree sighted for the center of the pane of glass. Me straitarming my arm like a dumb ass for impact knowing full well i would probibly lose my arm."Better my arm than being halfed or Ichibod Craned" I did'nt know what else to do but hope for the best and yell for dear life.
It all conclueded with me on the floor with a big gash on my back and a pretty good sized lump on my mellon. Looking up to see the window still as clear as ever. "It fuckn worked!??" In a Jack Sparow sort of way. The strait arm glanced me tword a movie case, to which i impacted the corner with my back. The corner tore me open and put a golf ball sized knott on the back of my dome.
Were it not for all the support and help of my wife, im sure i dont know what ever i would have done. She is to me as Virgel is to Dante. She was to be my guide in this comedy.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
i SEE ; 6 Draft #4
That night required i have some one zip and button my fly, my fingers stoped working in that capasity. Bob and dental plan escorted me to and from the banyo and where else i may have roamed. The fact i was drinking at all dictated that i have my rig (catherter) with me or pay dearly, which would happen anyway.
One fatefull trip to the can, a clear plastic baggie with the rig and lube inside, fell out of my pocket and hit the floor. I had no idea untill Bob knelt down "The fucks this!?" Eyeballing the ground score. Bobs stair shifted from the baggy to Dental plan as if to say "Oh dear lord."
If anyone had any question how fucked up i really was, that night would clear the air for a dbouters.
"Thats mine" grabing it outa his hands. "Yeah dude im pretty fucked up now." As he began for the door "Hey man you aint gotta explaine nothin Chris, not fuckin nothin man. You ok by yourself in here Chris?" "Im startin to wonder, yeah i should be alright." " Hey Chris?" "Yeah?" "Not nothing man, remember that. Dont be affraid to holler if you need anything." "Thanks Bob."
He closed the doorand i waited about a minute. Then i made my yell for the calvary. "UH Bob!! Bob im gonna need a hand!!" About 5 seconds went by then a quick knock. "Chris, you ok buddy!? Ya need a hand!?" "Yeah man, you alright Chris?" Opening the door, with an expression of supprise. Seeing me standing nodbout. "Hey Bob, are your hands clean?" "I washed em about 5 minutes ago...." As i began working my fly down "I need your help holding this while i drain it." Holding back with all i could. Bob took a step or two forward, with a look of: I did'nt mean help wuth that. He got one more step before recognizing the masked grin i could no longer disguise. Then being met with a look of contempt. "Fuck you." "Dont worry Bob your secrets safe with me." "Fuck you Chris." I about lost my footing with laughter.
Getting back to setting up "the works". Pulling the over sized folly sword from the baggy. It was a bit s;ipery due to past useage.
My wife was told by the ER nurse she was able to talk out of one. "They can be reused, just was it with soap and water after he uses it."
"So fucken septic" Applying lube and moving on to the next step. "Opperation swallow!" Squeezing the cobras eye open, i began running the rubber sword down it's gullet.
By now we had broken down gag reflex. Reaching the PNR or halfway, without freeking myself out was a good sign. When the end taped into the belly of the beast im met with an eruption of the contence. When the gyser erupted, a release of anxity swept through me. Which cased me to ease my grip on the instument. Not realizing this untill pee bagan to rush out between the tutrbe and the "throat" fallowed by a projectile of rubber sword. Hitting the toilet rim and glacing itself tworads the out side of the bowl, finding a landing zone underneith the bowl. Coming to rest on the white turned grey area of tile was enough to make me sick.
Picking up the odd shaped surgical tube led me to further inspection of the floor. The closer my head got the more the srface began to change from grey to a greyish yellow with texture. "Oh man! I'll not b using this ever agian." As intoxicated as i was im suprised i acctually used some T paper to raise the pipeline and find the trash can. As logic would have it, the pee fairy made her pressents known. Fightig the feeling for like...5 minutes, i ran- stagard for the banyo. After trying with all hope. Ofcourse i was met with the same result, failer.
Its intresting how quickly a mind can persuade itself to change when met with pain. "Fuck it, i dont give a fuck." Retreving the catherter out of its trash can grave. "Maaan!! this is so nasty! With the quickness, i wased it with soap and water then proceded on to drain it. "Man, i better not get some kind of penile fungus from this."
Around two in the morning i would perform, absolutely, the last gitmo technique. When i was met with the same result as earlyer but this time the tube chose to sleep with the Titanic and landed IN the toilet bowl. "Oh shit!!" To me it was a deth sentence. Agian i would put it in the garbage. Agian i would make a B line to take a leak. This time when i got to the banyo, the events of earlyer flashed through myhead peering into the waste basket. "NO DUDE! That's grosser than gross!! A mans got to know his limits!" This thought process would put me to the test. For about a half hour the pain was exscrewciating and then suddenly, just, went away.
Duane and i would make our way home as the Midnight turned a dark aquq marine. As much as the night was an element i thrived in, there is always someting i found about seeing the sunrise without sleep, wrong, depressing....sac religious? It's rough sharing your self with a creature of the night and a creature of the sun, one or both enevitably suffer.
Stumbling through troot door to sse my wife with Noah slurping down one of his many morning bottles. With a way less than thriled look on her face "Where'd you go...???" Continuing to the back deck "We were down at Myahs." Finding a seet on the back deck for a smoke. After all the booze consuption from the night before, somehow i came home with a half a Bottle of Beam. Whithout any hesitation i unscrewed the lid. As dark aqua began to give away to light aqua, "Down the hatch!"
After a night of mass consuption accompanyed with completely stupid philosophy and ideals, causes me to reflect the next day. But this time i was filled with thoughts of MS, thoughts of frustration. The fact that my time climbing, my mistress in this life was through, combined with the whiskie took me to some sereious dephs of dispare.
One smoke became two then three,one after another became quite a bit of the pack. With the wife steemed about my return to old ways, she stayed as far away as possible. So i sat there watching the sky go through its dayly metemorphsis doing to same with the bottle. Ofcourse i was overcome with emotion, tears had been running down my face for awhile, they evolved into an all out cry. Noone would talk to me....
At some point i did get a little bit of much needed company. My 12 year old son, Colby made his way to a patio chair, then made a stair at me. Not wanting him to see his Pa subcome to defeat and his spirit broken, i made an all for not effort to conseel my bubbering.
He would just stair at me, evey 30-40 seconds he would break his stair and look to the two by six's that made up the floor of the deck, only to return that inquisitive gaze.
Colby, a very curious little boy (Too much so at times) just sat outside with me for what must have been an hour. In that time he got to hear the customary drunkin banter. But this time, those eyes that seemed to peirce whatever bullshit one may front, seemed not of curiosity but more of concern and possibly sorrow? It sent me into an even greater tailspin. It dawned on me that all that little boy had ever known of his father was an absent workaholic that amounted to nothing but a drunk hit me, hard. And as only a drunk father can, i warned him of the bottle and dope. More importantly i warned him 'The booze and dope are not the enemy. "The weakness in your head is the true enemy. People who understand moderation and understand there is pletty of time to have fun with all that shit as you grow older. But right now your a kid Colby.......for God sake be that kid for as long as you can. Dont grow up to fast, cause at somepoint your gonna wish you were young agian." Taking another big pull off the bottle, wiping tears and sparking another Boro. "Colby being a drunk is so lonely, and a complete waste of time. You'll never get in the history books for anything worth a damn, for being a drunk. Just look at me...What do you want to be rememberd as? A drunken tyrant or someting really inspiring? Do you know what the word legacy means?"
Monday, August 6, 2012
I see ;5
The two weeks leeding up to, what i would begin to refur to as my final walk, "The green mile". "Those statistics are fuckin with me. One in a thousand." Tumbling around and around and around, all the time. I was thinking and talking myself onto the "table" for the "needle" i would casualy phun...gallos humuring my way througfh what i truely felt in my gutts, "I'll be that 1 in 1000!!..... heh".
I could not bring myself to " just throw it out" The rebif i had left being only two doses short of a box. "There's gotta be away i can get this to someone who could'nt afford the nutty out of pocket $3,500 price tag" "You cant do that" i was told. I kept it in the fridge anyway in the eevent i came accross someone.
It did'nt take long before my symptoms went from worse to 60 in 2 days. The last job i was to complete for my 9-5 came within days of being unmedicated. Mrs Powell lived off of wasatch blvd on Yorkshire Dr. We were to remove a locust and japanese maple in the backyard and beautify a locust and two bradford pears in the front. As always, we began in the back with bladder issues in tow. Agian with no cover, this time all i could do was hope noone was at there window.
My "nohorn" help must have been wondering "How in the hell is this guy figure he's gonna climb?" I had to sit down to get into my saddle, worming my way into it. It was really difficult putting on my hooks. Sinching down the straps was quite the chor, having to grip, pull and buckle all at once. My fingersjust didnt posses the strenth needed to hold on to the staps when sinching them down. "You need some help?" my helper would ask. "I got it. Cant you see that?" i would grin, i dont think he knew how to take what i said until he saw the grin. Some how i was able to get just enough of of a grip to get my gaffs secured. The walk to the tree must have been someting to see, Walking in hooks alreadt requires one to walk bowleged. Walking on the outsides of your feet to avoid dulling up the four inch spike that is pivotal in climbing removal trees. I was walking so jackt that my spikes were sword fighting causing me to trip up all over the fuckn place.
It took me 3 hours to do what would have normaly taken 30 minutes.
My left leg would'nt work so my right leg took the brunt of all progresion. Most all balance was focused on the right. To climb i would step with the right, kick in and half step. Thenputting all wight on the right and grabing what ever i could, i would just heave the left as high as it would go and sorrta swing it to the trunk and lowering my left side e at the same time, chancing a home for the gaff. IF i was able to start a hole,it would take all kinds of weight shiting to get a "decent" seat. Being that i was in some of the hardestd wood in Utah, it took forever
By lunch the back was done and so was i "This is gettin redicules man" kept coming to my mind and work its way past my lips, many times that day. Being the stubbon sob that i am, i just could not bring myself to "tap out".
The aloud me to complete three of the five trees, the two removals and beautifying one pear in the front. The heat of the day killed me, just getting into 619 to leave proved to be a near imposibility. Finly climbing up to the Capn's chair, i lit a Boro. Taking two drags was all that was needed to tell me "Yer killin me dude" causing mywhole body to litteraly "burn" from the inside out. Beginig in my bones, then my muscles and finly my skin. Like i had acitone injected into my body. The vise being more important than the way it made me feel, like the last cillea ona smokers lung "what do i got to loose" and had two more for the ride back to the yard.
In the shower that night my legs and everything down there could no longer feel the beems of water hitting them. My eyes began to see "ultra violet" first big sploches floating around accompaneyed by "firework" type stars that would spin in small circles with tracers and a serious feeling of floating and dizzyness.
Having to allocate two days to a job that really should have takin one. With the help i was givin. Nwe managers, along with the battle i was fighting in my head and many other worrys began to take there toll. Dbout and a feeling of defeet crept into my head. My attitude went from "can do" to "i just dont care anymore." Weeping was a reaction i could not stop or even delay. It was all i could do to find a place to alow the water works to do there thing.
Pulling away from the Powell residence, "My time hear is over" mentaly waving the white flag of surrender.
Now, for me to say someting like that, i had said it before in the past only to ignight that final reserve of fury to propel me through the dilema. This time, it was different. The fire that stoked that inner magic was now a mere pilot light. Insted, a yeld to dispare was all i could muster.
That friday i knew would also be my last. I dont even think i mutterd one word to anyone as i left the shop that night.
It was days before the green mile. If i had'nt drove my wife and kids insane with my antics i was sure to now. Already couching it, flooring it and sleepwalking from sun down to sun up. The feeling of having to pee every ten totwenty minutes kept me going from the front room to the banyo, add in that every second or third trip included a crash to the foor and along with the breaking someting, made for many slepless nights. In attempts to eliminate noise for my wife and baby, i would deem it a good idea togo downstairs, ending up along with a humpty dumpty tumble, at the bottom on my crown. Real quiet like! Back and forth, back and forth, banyo to coutch, coutch to banyo.
At times it would feel so hot, hot enough to strip down to my stones, pull off all the blankets and let the "sweat" evaporate only to have it turn to ice upon interacting withe air.
Other times there was a whole colony of ants tunneling around to different parts of my body. They nver seemed hungy, just intent on seperating every square inch of skin from my musculskeletal frame.
One of the final evenings befor my trip i got my booger hooks on a bottle of Beam. Doin what i would normaly do, drink, strait from the bottle. Knowing fullwell it was The single WORST thing i could do. I was so sick of having toworry about...everything! Everywhere i looked for info, or all the different folks i asked, or wouldld offer advise to me was making my head spin. Everything i did was causing my MS to be more sever. Food was huge. No Salt,sugar, glutin or any of the shit put in most food. If it had fuckin ingredence i did'nt dare eat it for fear that it might make me piss my pants or shit my pants or suffer vision issues or lose more feeling in my legs or hands or dick. I was so tierd and so frusterated and so angry. And like myself, went to the whiskie mart. By the time i got home i had already made my ritual chug a third smoke a few drive, thus, "waaas feeelin fuuuckn resennntful as fuck man." My bro Duane showed up around half way into the bottle. Thats about the time the rest of my family came home. The wife, not wanting to deal with it, demanded we leave. In my efforts to oblige i first went to take a leak.
Getting infront of the toilet i whiped ot the pice and began to pee. Then, my right leg gave out, then the left and fell into the shower curtan proceeding to tear the whole thing down. It all ended with me in the tub wraped in plastic pissing all over myself and soaking it all up at the same time. My whole lower body was out of order. Somehow, i made it out of the banyo without any serious trama...this time
Striping off the piss soaked clothes was another nightmare, hitting walls and carpet was puttin me in the red. After actualy getting my pants on i made my way to the front porch for a Boro. Sitting down in the chair, whiskie in hand. my blood pressure began to elevate right along side my temper. Thats when Duane came "You ready to roll man?" "Lets get the fuck outa here!" Getting to my feet and back on my ass agian, over and over and over. I began cursing at God, getting loud and yelling, on like attempt number twenty the waterwrks began agian and in defience i flung myself out of the chair. "Whoa Reid!! what the fuck you doing man!?" Catching me before i hit the ground. Sobing i broke down once agian "I dont want this anymore!! I just want it all to end." "Reid dont, dont do this man!" setting me back in the chair "Im not bad enough for this shit man!" Embracing me further "Reid, your one of the badest motherfuckers i know!...." "I just want it to be over!!" "Dont do this man, you can hang, comon man lets get outa here. "Your gonna have to grab my shoes for me." He had to tie them too
I could not bring myself to " just throw it out" The rebif i had left being only two doses short of a box. "There's gotta be away i can get this to someone who could'nt afford the nutty out of pocket $3,500 price tag" "You cant do that" i was told. I kept it in the fridge anyway in the eevent i came accross someone.
It did'nt take long before my symptoms went from worse to 60 in 2 days. The last job i was to complete for my 9-5 came within days of being unmedicated. Mrs Powell lived off of wasatch blvd on Yorkshire Dr. We were to remove a locust and japanese maple in the backyard and beautify a locust and two bradford pears in the front. As always, we began in the back with bladder issues in tow. Agian with no cover, this time all i could do was hope noone was at there window.
My "nohorn" help must have been wondering "How in the hell is this guy figure he's gonna climb?" I had to sit down to get into my saddle, worming my way into it. It was really difficult putting on my hooks. Sinching down the straps was quite the chor, having to grip, pull and buckle all at once. My fingersjust didnt posses the strenth needed to hold on to the staps when sinching them down. "You need some help?" my helper would ask. "I got it. Cant you see that?" i would grin, i dont think he knew how to take what i said until he saw the grin. Some how i was able to get just enough of of a grip to get my gaffs secured. The walk to the tree must have been someting to see, Walking in hooks alreadt requires one to walk bowleged. Walking on the outsides of your feet to avoid dulling up the four inch spike that is pivotal in climbing removal trees. I was walking so jackt that my spikes were sword fighting causing me to trip up all over the fuckn place.
It took me 3 hours to do what would have normaly taken 30 minutes.
My left leg would'nt work so my right leg took the brunt of all progresion. Most all balance was focused on the right. To climb i would step with the right, kick in and half step. Thenputting all wight on the right and grabing what ever i could, i would just heave the left as high as it would go and sorrta swing it to the trunk and lowering my left side e at the same time, chancing a home for the gaff. IF i was able to start a hole,it would take all kinds of weight shiting to get a "decent" seat. Being that i was in some of the hardestd wood in Utah, it took forever
By lunch the back was done and so was i "This is gettin redicules man" kept coming to my mind and work its way past my lips, many times that day. Being the stubbon sob that i am, i just could not bring myself to "tap out".
The aloud me to complete three of the five trees, the two removals and beautifying one pear in the front. The heat of the day killed me, just getting into 619 to leave proved to be a near imposibility. Finly climbing up to the Capn's chair, i lit a Boro. Taking two drags was all that was needed to tell me "Yer killin me dude" causing mywhole body to litteraly "burn" from the inside out. Beginig in my bones, then my muscles and finly my skin. Like i had acitone injected into my body. The vise being more important than the way it made me feel, like the last cillea ona smokers lung "what do i got to loose" and had two more for the ride back to the yard.
In the shower that night my legs and everything down there could no longer feel the beems of water hitting them. My eyes began to see "ultra violet" first big sploches floating around accompaneyed by "firework" type stars that would spin in small circles with tracers and a serious feeling of floating and dizzyness.
Having to allocate two days to a job that really should have takin one. With the help i was givin. Nwe managers, along with the battle i was fighting in my head and many other worrys began to take there toll. Dbout and a feeling of defeet crept into my head. My attitude went from "can do" to "i just dont care anymore." Weeping was a reaction i could not stop or even delay. It was all i could do to find a place to alow the water works to do there thing.
Pulling away from the Powell residence, "My time hear is over" mentaly waving the white flag of surrender.
Now, for me to say someting like that, i had said it before in the past only to ignight that final reserve of fury to propel me through the dilema. This time, it was different. The fire that stoked that inner magic was now a mere pilot light. Insted, a yeld to dispare was all i could muster.
That friday i knew would also be my last. I dont even think i mutterd one word to anyone as i left the shop that night.
It was days before the green mile. If i had'nt drove my wife and kids insane with my antics i was sure to now. Already couching it, flooring it and sleepwalking from sun down to sun up. The feeling of having to pee every ten totwenty minutes kept me going from the front room to the banyo, add in that every second or third trip included a crash to the foor and along with the breaking someting, made for many slepless nights. In attempts to eliminate noise for my wife and baby, i would deem it a good idea togo downstairs, ending up along with a humpty dumpty tumble, at the bottom on my crown. Real quiet like! Back and forth, back and forth, banyo to coutch, coutch to banyo.
At times it would feel so hot, hot enough to strip down to my stones, pull off all the blankets and let the "sweat" evaporate only to have it turn to ice upon interacting withe air.
Other times there was a whole colony of ants tunneling around to different parts of my body. They nver seemed hungy, just intent on seperating every square inch of skin from my musculskeletal frame.
One of the final evenings befor my trip i got my booger hooks on a bottle of Beam. Doin what i would normaly do, drink, strait from the bottle. Knowing fullwell it was The single WORST thing i could do. I was so sick of having toworry about...everything! Everywhere i looked for info, or all the different folks i asked, or wouldld offer advise to me was making my head spin. Everything i did was causing my MS to be more sever. Food was huge. No Salt,sugar, glutin or any of the shit put in most food. If it had fuckin ingredence i did'nt dare eat it for fear that it might make me piss my pants or shit my pants or suffer vision issues or lose more feeling in my legs or hands or dick. I was so tierd and so frusterated and so angry. And like myself, went to the whiskie mart. By the time i got home i had already made my ritual chug a third smoke a few drive, thus, "waaas feeelin fuuuckn resennntful as fuck man." My bro Duane showed up around half way into the bottle. Thats about the time the rest of my family came home. The wife, not wanting to deal with it, demanded we leave. In my efforts to oblige i first went to take a leak.
Getting infront of the toilet i whiped ot the pice and began to pee. Then, my right leg gave out, then the left and fell into the shower curtan proceeding to tear the whole thing down. It all ended with me in the tub wraped in plastic pissing all over myself and soaking it all up at the same time. My whole lower body was out of order. Somehow, i made it out of the banyo without any serious trama...this time
Striping off the piss soaked clothes was another nightmare, hitting walls and carpet was puttin me in the red. After actualy getting my pants on i made my way to the front porch for a Boro. Sitting down in the chair, whiskie in hand. my blood pressure began to elevate right along side my temper. Thats when Duane came "You ready to roll man?" "Lets get the fuck outa here!" Getting to my feet and back on my ass agian, over and over and over. I began cursing at God, getting loud and yelling, on like attempt number twenty the waterwrks began agian and in defience i flung myself out of the chair. "Whoa Reid!! what the fuck you doing man!?" Catching me before i hit the ground. Sobing i broke down once agian "I dont want this anymore!! I just want it all to end." "Reid dont, dont do this man!" setting me back in the chair "Im not bad enough for this shit man!" Embracing me further "Reid, your one of the badest motherfuckers i know!...." "I just want it to be over!!" "Dont do this man, you can hang, comon man lets get outa here. "Your gonna have to grab my shoes for me." He had to tie them too
Saturday, July 28, 2012
I see ;4
People (neabors, friends and family) I assume, were doing things for my family and i. Calling consistantly and comming by to offer a hand , motivation, encouragement. Some realizing the aii encompasing implications, were rounding me up new clients and jobs. I am so still very touched and greatfull.
The things happening to me were so innumerable. All i coud do is concintrate on the "few" that were imedeate to my most basic functions.
At my 9-5 they had things so fucked up. Being on our third branch manager in six weeks was quite the hoot. A pool was began on how long the current one would last.
All the discontent had me wanting to walk so bad but stood fast and continued to fight this.."Nothing" that was so intent, it seemed, on tearing apart my existence.
A hugeb problem, with new Management came a new and "better way of working smarter not harder." Corse the new bosses knew shit about what there job was, so firing and hiring became the consistant way of buisness. This caused all kinds of issues for the Maintence department.
Paco sent back to cutting grass and i was assigned a new helper everyday. A new hire, hell, they wernt even Greenhorn,s, they were nohorns! But i tryed to be as positive as i could and "leed by example" even though i just wanted to see the world burn. My example' i dont tnink, was sending a very good message. Try and try i just could not preform the way i had grown accutomed and demanded. Pride was someting i was a fanatic with when it came to completeing a job. Overkill. When i rang the door bell "It was on!" put in a berry blend, and it did'nt stop untill the blowers came out and i was putting an invoice in the hand of my "mark". With help that woun't catch the drift of draging a pile to the chipper, coming from as far as a backyard! With maaaybe 4 sticks in hand was madding!! Usually causing me to be more aggesive with motivational technique. They could get with the program or take a taxi. Now, i had no choice but to run a "kinder gentler" program. I was'nt about to demand the most out of anyone what with me stagering everywhere and barely able to even stand. Yet these jobs had to be completed. Lets give some of these guys some credit for recognizing my dilema and moving/working the best they knew how. Ofcourse i got a couple of taxi worthy folks, "just grin and be greatful as hell" i would tell myself.
On the other hand deeming my bosses as "completely full of shit and totaly incompitant" worked on my behalf. I would get sent to damn near Idaho " i protested for a job thats "sevenhundred peso's?" Obeying the order i would have normalylobbyed against, impeding my production for two days. Getting there to find out exacly as i suspected "gossly under fuckin bid" . Two days for sevenhundred bucks was just not gonna happen after the first 14 hour day. But that DID make for 8 hoursb of DRIVE time that i wasnt about to lick in the mouth. From that point on, which wasnt very long , i was able to take advantage of the underbid job excuse on particularly labor intensive jobs. Not that there were many of them.
The closer my neurologist appointment got the more anytype of endurance or strenth began to just.....vanish. Unable to gain any or enough sleep.
When i smoked a Boro i found out my lips on the left side of my face refused to hold a smoke. Take it a step further
Fellas learn that being able to spit like a cannon, is a right of passage. Years and years of refining a skill that to my knoledge, the Military does'nt have a program for. The howlitser in my arsenal was now droling logies on to my boots, in my beard, shirt and pants. My tounge would not roll on the left side nor would my lips hold pressure required to launch a projectile succesfuly.
On one occation i was watching my 1 1/2 year old Noah. We were watching the tv and he was laying down on the floor having a bottle. I cant recall what i was getting up for but i stood up out of my lazy boy to head for the kitchin i think. Went to begin walking and nmy legs just froze, they would not move! This threw my balance off and i began to lean right twords my baby boy. It was as if i had become a tree and someone like myself was at my feet with a saw and put a face cut sighted right for Noah and was in the middle of the back cut, and like the trees, i began to fell. It all went so slow mo. I tryed in vain to change my trajectory or take a step but seemed all for not. Falling, all i remember was a set of big blue eyes suckin down his bottle checkin me out.
When i hit i was still screaming, the big blue eyes were as focused as ever and still content with his bottle. I missed him by like hairs. This episode SCARED LIFE OUT OF ME and i began to seriously wonder if it was safe for me to be at home with my family.
I developed a pretty good hitch in my step. My left leg began to drag when i would walk, it would'nt work from the knee down. From my hip down to my knee function was very limited.
MY mind waas begining to get very hot very quick. As if i wasnt already a hot head. My sons, at that time, had no way of possibly grasping what i was wrestling with and so the sibling rivalry and fighting REALY chaped my ass. I would come unglued and get VERY loud with them.
Pane levals began to elivate substantily. Understanding what pills did and using them on a consistiant basis, i was learing, became very important. I had misunderstood thinking that Baclifin was for pain. When its actualy for spazums. Not only that, once you begin tacking Baclifin your body sortan becomes addicted to it and will spaz if it dont get its feel. Sometimes i would eat 1 in the morning, three in the afternoon and nun at night. Sometimess nun at all for the day. Doing this i think caused my spasims to exadgerate.
I still had'nt been introduced to anything for pain so i was still abusing Advil eating 5 or 6 of em at once every 4 or so hours. This is when what i refer to as evening walks" started. Staying seated for to long began to scare me, fearing (like elephants do) i might not get up after being down. In my case for to long, i would stager around. Through the entry way then the living room to the kitchen into the backroom and back to the entry way, then over agian, all night sometimes.
Consutation day came and to Dr Zs office we went. As he walked in the room i could see some papers in his grip. "Hello Mr and Mrs Reid." Taking a paer and placing infront of me "After looking at your MRI we need to switch you from Rebiff to Tysabri. The contrast dye showed us alot of activity which means what we are currently doing is not working." The paper infront of me was information on Tysabri. That it was a infusion (IV) that was done once a month. And amonst some other things, that one in one thousand have died so far in connection to the drug. "Those are some tuff odds." We also filled out some financial help applications. Some insurance companeys wont cover it. I think it was called the care progra, i think. Tysabri is seven thousad dollars! monthly and thats just for the drug.
There was one more thing. "We need you to stop the rebiff and be clean of it for two weeks, before we start the new treatment. "That means, im having an attack and i have to do two weeks unmedicated! YOU GOTTA BE SHITIN ME."
The things happening to me were so innumerable. All i coud do is concintrate on the "few" that were imedeate to my most basic functions.
At my 9-5 they had things so fucked up. Being on our third branch manager in six weeks was quite the hoot. A pool was began on how long the current one would last.
All the discontent had me wanting to walk so bad but stood fast and continued to fight this.."Nothing" that was so intent, it seemed, on tearing apart my existence.
A hugeb problem, with new Management came a new and "better way of working smarter not harder." Corse the new bosses knew shit about what there job was, so firing and hiring became the consistant way of buisness. This caused all kinds of issues for the Maintence department.
Paco sent back to cutting grass and i was assigned a new helper everyday. A new hire, hell, they wernt even Greenhorn,s, they were nohorns! But i tryed to be as positive as i could and "leed by example" even though i just wanted to see the world burn. My example' i dont tnink, was sending a very good message. Try and try i just could not preform the way i had grown accutomed and demanded. Pride was someting i was a fanatic with when it came to completeing a job. Overkill. When i rang the door bell "It was on!" put in a berry blend, and it did'nt stop untill the blowers came out and i was putting an invoice in the hand of my "mark". With help that woun't catch the drift of draging a pile to the chipper, coming from as far as a backyard! With maaaybe 4 sticks in hand was madding!! Usually causing me to be more aggesive with motivational technique. They could get with the program or take a taxi. Now, i had no choice but to run a "kinder gentler" program. I was'nt about to demand the most out of anyone what with me stagering everywhere and barely able to even stand. Yet these jobs had to be completed. Lets give some of these guys some credit for recognizing my dilema and moving/working the best they knew how. Ofcourse i got a couple of taxi worthy folks, "just grin and be greatful as hell" i would tell myself.
On the other hand deeming my bosses as "completely full of shit and totaly incompitant" worked on my behalf. I would get sent to damn near Idaho " i protested for a job thats "sevenhundred peso's?" Obeying the order i would have normalylobbyed against, impeding my production for two days. Getting there to find out exacly as i suspected "gossly under fuckin bid" . Two days for sevenhundred bucks was just not gonna happen after the first 14 hour day. But that DID make for 8 hoursb of DRIVE time that i wasnt about to lick in the mouth. From that point on, which wasnt very long , i was able to take advantage of the underbid job excuse on particularly labor intensive jobs. Not that there were many of them.
The closer my neurologist appointment got the more anytype of endurance or strenth began to just.....vanish. Unable to gain any or enough sleep.
When i smoked a Boro i found out my lips on the left side of my face refused to hold a smoke. Take it a step further
Fellas learn that being able to spit like a cannon, is a right of passage. Years and years of refining a skill that to my knoledge, the Military does'nt have a program for. The howlitser in my arsenal was now droling logies on to my boots, in my beard, shirt and pants. My tounge would not roll on the left side nor would my lips hold pressure required to launch a projectile succesfuly.
On one occation i was watching my 1 1/2 year old Noah. We were watching the tv and he was laying down on the floor having a bottle. I cant recall what i was getting up for but i stood up out of my lazy boy to head for the kitchin i think. Went to begin walking and nmy legs just froze, they would not move! This threw my balance off and i began to lean right twords my baby boy. It was as if i had become a tree and someone like myself was at my feet with a saw and put a face cut sighted right for Noah and was in the middle of the back cut, and like the trees, i began to fell. It all went so slow mo. I tryed in vain to change my trajectory or take a step but seemed all for not. Falling, all i remember was a set of big blue eyes suckin down his bottle checkin me out.
When i hit i was still screaming, the big blue eyes were as focused as ever and still content with his bottle. I missed him by like hairs. This episode SCARED LIFE OUT OF ME and i began to seriously wonder if it was safe for me to be at home with my family.
I developed a pretty good hitch in my step. My left leg began to drag when i would walk, it would'nt work from the knee down. From my hip down to my knee function was very limited.
MY mind waas begining to get very hot very quick. As if i wasnt already a hot head. My sons, at that time, had no way of possibly grasping what i was wrestling with and so the sibling rivalry and fighting REALY chaped my ass. I would come unglued and get VERY loud with them.
Pane levals began to elivate substantily. Understanding what pills did and using them on a consistiant basis, i was learing, became very important. I had misunderstood thinking that Baclifin was for pain. When its actualy for spazums. Not only that, once you begin tacking Baclifin your body sortan becomes addicted to it and will spaz if it dont get its feel. Sometimes i would eat 1 in the morning, three in the afternoon and nun at night. Sometimess nun at all for the day. Doing this i think caused my spasims to exadgerate.
I still had'nt been introduced to anything for pain so i was still abusing Advil eating 5 or 6 of em at once every 4 or so hours. This is when what i refer to as evening walks" started. Staying seated for to long began to scare me, fearing (like elephants do) i might not get up after being down. In my case for to long, i would stager around. Through the entry way then the living room to the kitchen into the backroom and back to the entry way, then over agian, all night sometimes.
Consutation day came and to Dr Zs office we went. As he walked in the room i could see some papers in his grip. "Hello Mr and Mrs Reid." Taking a paer and placing infront of me "After looking at your MRI we need to switch you from Rebiff to Tysabri. The contrast dye showed us alot of activity which means what we are currently doing is not working." The paper infront of me was information on Tysabri. That it was a infusion (IV) that was done once a month. And amonst some other things, that one in one thousand have died so far in connection to the drug. "Those are some tuff odds." We also filled out some financial help applications. Some insurance companeys wont cover it. I think it was called the care progra, i think. Tysabri is seven thousad dollars! monthly and thats just for the drug.
There was one more thing. "We need you to stop the rebiff and be clean of it for two weeks, before we start the new treatment. "That means, im having an attack and i have to do two weeks unmedicated! YOU GOTTA BE SHITIN ME."
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
I see ;3
A few days later Dr Z called to scedual an apointment to review results. In the days leading up to his call i was prepaing myself for another go in the capsule.
"We're gonna have to do it agian, huh?" "That wont be nessary. We got everything we need." "The techs told me the images were terriable. I figured we were gonna have to go another round." "Nope" Consultation was set up for the next week.
In the mean time there was work to be done.
There ws one job i did for my 9-5 that put the writing on the wall, it spelt out the words "No mas!
An old ladie in sugarhouse had some female (fruit) trees that were way over due for production prunes, IE they were nasty as all hell. But she did have an Almond tree. Never been in one of those so that was anotherone to notch out the bed post for.
Today i was paired up with "Senior Montanya", better known as Jose. When i returned from the Banx he and i were put together for tree work. He was a hard woring Sum-a-bit-chhhh. Very impresive. We could not understand oneanother to begin with. "This must be the kind of barrier Messner ran into negotiating Everest the first time. This is when i knighted him the title Sir "Paco Sherpa." The first time i refered to him as Paco Sherpa He got all kinds of Baboon nuts on me!! After about a half hour of fighting through the language barrier and the assurence i was'nt calling him a "Hoetoe" or my bitch, it was a bond/trust that this honkey wont ever talk to "this sherpa" like he was your advarage run of the mill cactus cutting, border hoping mexican.
We started in the tree furthist away, the Almond and worked our way back to the closer ones. The almond went fairly quickly although the blader began doing its thing which inturn caused me to do my thing (drop everything and take cover). Problem was, there was no real cover to be found. Agian a dash for 619 and hauling ass for the closest 7-11. I think Paco was left on the site like 3 times. 3 times all i could muster was dribbling, made me mad as hell. I would come back get my saddel back on, get back to work and you guessed it."I gotta fucken piss agian!" This time the pice was comming out, no cover be damned! I still tryed to find a place that the old lady could'nt spy my pice at. I ended up in the driveway of all places. Using a trash can to pin myself between the garage door and a mugo pine. The phantom stone dislodged itself and "we got hydrolics!! Elated with releif i failed to see all the pee flooding down the driveway. Or, the neborhood cars going by. Truth be known, I could'nt give a squirt of piss about any o that. My concern was not causing our customer a heart attack. Thank God she did'nt see any of the hooded cobra.
From the Almond tree we moved onto a few Apricot trees. These trees were a little spooky due to the fact they were so close to high voltage power lines. This kept me from actually climbing one of the two labled as such. That left me useing pole tools and a orchard ladder.
When a climber is airborn, communication between Climer and ground control is imparitive. The fact is without a good groudman the "best" climbers may as well be high paid peeping toms. A real good indicator you have excelent ground support is. They have the ability to antisipate the next move to be made and the best way to react to whatever situation they see coming next. Paco Sherpa understood this, that is why i loved to work with him.
So i ended up using an orchard ladder for the Apricots. All my pee breaks had put us behind schedual by an hour or so, so i was making haste. There was just a few cuts left to be made. Getting to these last few cuts was a pain in the ass due to the high voltage passing overhead. I had to place my ladder all off balance to make it happen. This is a common practice that usually includes tying off the top of the ladder when the climber gets there, which i did not. When i got up to the top i realized i could make these cuts with my eyes closed and so unprotected, went for it. The fist and then with a lunge and up on the tip of my righht boot, the second. Successfuly making the cut, i could feel weakness rush through my core, legs and arms and finely finding its way to my feet and hands.by now i was expecting this and had been able to sorta time the waves and the task. This time i chose poorly by forceing myself to the final cut. Overcome by weakness at the cuting point the ladder started to go over, instictivly i tightened up my grip. This happining many times before, was never a big deal. This was something i could easly self arrest myself outa. Not now. As tight a grip i could muster, seemed almost non-existant and i was headed for certian broken legs and torn forskin as there was barbedwire below. Thank God for the antisipation of Paco Sherpa. were it not for Jose "Paco Sherpa" Flores i would've suffered serious injury. He was able to stop the ladder from colapse alowing me just enough strenth to hold on. Finely able to upright the ladder so i could kinda stumble down backwards to the earth, on my ass.
Jose being the overachever that he is, like myself, prefers to be the "work through luch and get the fuck outa here!" guy. Not on this day he wernt! There were seven trees to be touched, we, had just completed number two and it was basicly lunch time. "I,m so fucked!!" Tacking inventory of the work left to be completed. We had two more Apricots to clean, luckly they were much smaller. Two Cherry trees that weretall as hell and growing between two structures with lots of windows and line drops that provided power to each house. This was the crux of the whole job. Grandma wanted these two trees halfed and done properly. This is where i make lots o money being an expert at rigging, i save alot of headach and time associated with the danger and difficulty in triming, pruning and removing tree types such as those. Then there was a Juniper that needed to be peeled off the home. Finely a Cottonwood growing in the parking strip. It had a massive amount of sucker growth down where the main trunk began its co-domination.
With much reluctance, i trimed out the two remaining Apricots before taking the Paco protested "launshh!"
Boro's galore for lunch.
Fear...i believe...live's inside of everybody at some level. It's how we choose to confront it. Or let it confront us. For the last 6 or so months i had been crusading to the MS lands. Headstrong. Charge!!! Jon McClane Yippe KIA Mother Fucker!!like. Im pretty sure Bruce would concur. But that day...My mind was "Okay!! Lets roll!! My body just would not oblige with any enthusiasim. I,never have operated in those conditions, was scared, very scared, afraid. All the other times i was able to reach and tap energy sourses and reserves, that manifest confidence. That counted for so much. It seemed i no longer possesed the Magic required. Mana drain so ta speek. My Wife has at a hundred's of times or another accused me of Sweat shoping my guardian angel's "One of these days Chris they're all go on strike on you!!" she would plead, and she was right. I just chose not to agree. Now, i'll be damned if they (angels) had'nt grabd me by the buck wheats "Got yer attention nowwwww!! DONT WE!" They sure as hell did. Hence all the Boro's And I DID'NT WANT TO CLIMB THOSE CHERRY TREES.
After a few cuts with the 200t and polesaw, i figured i'd save what little energy i had for in the air. The interior was simple enough so to the top it was. Before i could reduce the height, i needed to reduce the width, problem was, i had no fuel lft in me. We handeled the laterals going over windows. It wasnt purdy, no, but it was done. Reducing the height was left. After limb walking/crawling the latterals, it took a pretty serious motavational talk with myself to go after the top. The only thing that alowed me to move or kept me in position was my gear 100%. It also worked agianst me. A couple of times i lowerd myself through a "hole" to go after a cut, not thinking i would have to backtrack and pull myself back up for more cuts. "Piss, Poor , Planing Chris!" In total self disgust. Going to make my way back up, was just not happening, i was so fatigued, so hot,so.....lifeless! Paco was about ready to come and cut me out. Twice this happend and somehow, i just........ willed? myself back out.
The final cut to be made in the Cherrys was top number two. Basic, basic, basic. Tie a rope to it and have Paco pull like hell when the back cut goes in so the top olly's the tree for a simple clean up.
With a small sliver of a facecut and the tag line attached things were ready to roll. Jose, ready at the end of the tag and my saw running at the ready "Tighten up!!" The rope went from slack to tention, Jose ready to pull like hell. Suddenly the wave of weakness began its set. Relizing the gravity of the situation "Back cut!!" I went to make the cut and could not raise the saw. Using two hands and a buch of cuss words, i was able to rsorta place the saw where the backcut was to go. All i had to do was apply pressure and squeeze the throtle. At this moment my legs simply stoped working and i began to sloutch down and cutting at the same time. "Pull Paco!! Pull!! And Paco deliverd. Watching the top clear and land was the last thing i saw before my boby just went limp and i began to colapse with my trim saw still in hand, fingers still covering the throtle without an engaged chain break. Usually when someting like this happens, the first thing i do is let go of the saw. With things the way they were for me i was unable to do this. When my body came to rest it was with my saw hand with saw in my grip, coming to rest on top of my left arm. How i did,nt cut my arm off is beyond me. Sweat Shop.
"We're gonna have to do it agian, huh?" "That wont be nessary. We got everything we need." "The techs told me the images were terriable. I figured we were gonna have to go another round." "Nope" Consultation was set up for the next week.
In the mean time there was work to be done.
There ws one job i did for my 9-5 that put the writing on the wall, it spelt out the words "No mas!
An old ladie in sugarhouse had some female (fruit) trees that were way over due for production prunes, IE they were nasty as all hell. But she did have an Almond tree. Never been in one of those so that was anotherone to notch out the bed post for.
Today i was paired up with "Senior Montanya", better known as Jose. When i returned from the Banx he and i were put together for tree work. He was a hard woring Sum-a-bit-chhhh. Very impresive. We could not understand oneanother to begin with. "This must be the kind of barrier Messner ran into negotiating Everest the first time. This is when i knighted him the title Sir "Paco Sherpa." The first time i refered to him as Paco Sherpa He got all kinds of Baboon nuts on me!! After about a half hour of fighting through the language barrier and the assurence i was'nt calling him a "Hoetoe" or my bitch, it was a bond/trust that this honkey wont ever talk to "this sherpa" like he was your advarage run of the mill cactus cutting, border hoping mexican.
We started in the tree furthist away, the Almond and worked our way back to the closer ones. The almond went fairly quickly although the blader began doing its thing which inturn caused me to do my thing (drop everything and take cover). Problem was, there was no real cover to be found. Agian a dash for 619 and hauling ass for the closest 7-11. I think Paco was left on the site like 3 times. 3 times all i could muster was dribbling, made me mad as hell. I would come back get my saddel back on, get back to work and you guessed it."I gotta fucken piss agian!" This time the pice was comming out, no cover be damned! I still tryed to find a place that the old lady could'nt spy my pice at. I ended up in the driveway of all places. Using a trash can to pin myself between the garage door and a mugo pine. The phantom stone dislodged itself and "we got hydrolics!! Elated with releif i failed to see all the pee flooding down the driveway. Or, the neborhood cars going by. Truth be known, I could'nt give a squirt of piss about any o that. My concern was not causing our customer a heart attack. Thank God she did'nt see any of the hooded cobra.
From the Almond tree we moved onto a few Apricot trees. These trees were a little spooky due to the fact they were so close to high voltage power lines. This kept me from actually climbing one of the two labled as such. That left me useing pole tools and a orchard ladder.
When a climber is airborn, communication between Climer and ground control is imparitive. The fact is without a good groudman the "best" climbers may as well be high paid peeping toms. A real good indicator you have excelent ground support is. They have the ability to antisipate the next move to be made and the best way to react to whatever situation they see coming next. Paco Sherpa understood this, that is why i loved to work with him.
So i ended up using an orchard ladder for the Apricots. All my pee breaks had put us behind schedual by an hour or so, so i was making haste. There was just a few cuts left to be made. Getting to these last few cuts was a pain in the ass due to the high voltage passing overhead. I had to place my ladder all off balance to make it happen. This is a common practice that usually includes tying off the top of the ladder when the climber gets there, which i did not. When i got up to the top i realized i could make these cuts with my eyes closed and so unprotected, went for it. The fist and then with a lunge and up on the tip of my righht boot, the second. Successfuly making the cut, i could feel weakness rush through my core, legs and arms and finely finding its way to my feet and hands.by now i was expecting this and had been able to sorta time the waves and the task. This time i chose poorly by forceing myself to the final cut. Overcome by weakness at the cuting point the ladder started to go over, instictivly i tightened up my grip. This happining many times before, was never a big deal. This was something i could easly self arrest myself outa. Not now. As tight a grip i could muster, seemed almost non-existant and i was headed for certian broken legs and torn forskin as there was barbedwire below. Thank God for the antisipation of Paco Sherpa. were it not for Jose "Paco Sherpa" Flores i would've suffered serious injury. He was able to stop the ladder from colapse alowing me just enough strenth to hold on. Finely able to upright the ladder so i could kinda stumble down backwards to the earth, on my ass.
Jose being the overachever that he is, like myself, prefers to be the "work through luch and get the fuck outa here!" guy. Not on this day he wernt! There were seven trees to be touched, we, had just completed number two and it was basicly lunch time. "I,m so fucked!!" Tacking inventory of the work left to be completed. We had two more Apricots to clean, luckly they were much smaller. Two Cherry trees that weretall as hell and growing between two structures with lots of windows and line drops that provided power to each house. This was the crux of the whole job. Grandma wanted these two trees halfed and done properly. This is where i make lots o money being an expert at rigging, i save alot of headach and time associated with the danger and difficulty in triming, pruning and removing tree types such as those. Then there was a Juniper that needed to be peeled off the home. Finely a Cottonwood growing in the parking strip. It had a massive amount of sucker growth down where the main trunk began its co-domination.
With much reluctance, i trimed out the two remaining Apricots before taking the Paco protested "launshh!"
Boro's galore for lunch.
Fear...i believe...live's inside of everybody at some level. It's how we choose to confront it. Or let it confront us. For the last 6 or so months i had been crusading to the MS lands. Headstrong. Charge!!! Jon McClane Yippe KIA Mother Fucker!!like. Im pretty sure Bruce would concur. But that day...My mind was "Okay!! Lets roll!! My body just would not oblige with any enthusiasim. I,never have operated in those conditions, was scared, very scared, afraid. All the other times i was able to reach and tap energy sourses and reserves, that manifest confidence. That counted for so much. It seemed i no longer possesed the Magic required. Mana drain so ta speek. My Wife has at a hundred's of times or another accused me of Sweat shoping my guardian angel's "One of these days Chris they're all go on strike on you!!" she would plead, and she was right. I just chose not to agree. Now, i'll be damned if they (angels) had'nt grabd me by the buck wheats "Got yer attention nowwwww!! DONT WE!" They sure as hell did. Hence all the Boro's And I DID'NT WANT TO CLIMB THOSE CHERRY TREES.
After a few cuts with the 200t and polesaw, i figured i'd save what little energy i had for in the air. The interior was simple enough so to the top it was. Before i could reduce the height, i needed to reduce the width, problem was, i had no fuel lft in me. We handeled the laterals going over windows. It wasnt purdy, no, but it was done. Reducing the height was left. After limb walking/crawling the latterals, it took a pretty serious motavational talk with myself to go after the top. The only thing that alowed me to move or kept me in position was my gear 100%. It also worked agianst me. A couple of times i lowerd myself through a "hole" to go after a cut, not thinking i would have to backtrack and pull myself back up for more cuts. "Piss, Poor , Planing Chris!" In total self disgust. Going to make my way back up, was just not happening, i was so fatigued, so hot,so.....lifeless! Paco was about ready to come and cut me out. Twice this happend and somehow, i just........ willed? myself back out.
The final cut to be made in the Cherrys was top number two. Basic, basic, basic. Tie a rope to it and have Paco pull like hell when the back cut goes in so the top olly's the tree for a simple clean up.
With a small sliver of a facecut and the tag line attached things were ready to roll. Jose, ready at the end of the tag and my saw running at the ready "Tighten up!!" The rope went from slack to tention, Jose ready to pull like hell. Suddenly the wave of weakness began its set. Relizing the gravity of the situation "Back cut!!" I went to make the cut and could not raise the saw. Using two hands and a buch of cuss words, i was able to rsorta place the saw where the backcut was to go. All i had to do was apply pressure and squeeze the throtle. At this moment my legs simply stoped working and i began to sloutch down and cutting at the same time. "Pull Paco!! Pull!! And Paco deliverd. Watching the top clear and land was the last thing i saw before my boby just went limp and i began to colapse with my trim saw still in hand, fingers still covering the throtle without an engaged chain break. Usually when someting like this happens, the first thing i do is let go of the saw. With things the way they were for me i was unable to do this. When my body came to rest it was with my saw hand with saw in my grip, coming to rest on top of my left arm. How i did,nt cut my arm off is beyond me. Sweat Shop.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
I see ;2
As the winter was turning to spring so to did the work start to make its annual change. Every year it goes like this: By the end of January finances are begining to dwindle, tax returns cant get processed fast enough. When they do get here, they're spent in like, last year! So now the work's gotta pick up "Or we're screwed"' By the last week of Febuary, you've convinced yourself 'Im goin outa buisness!" March gets here and a couple of jobs get sold "Its so slow" you say. Next thing you know, you cant get shit done fast enough. Before you know it its August and works tapered off. Being that it's me, my crew will have just enough time to tap and shot themselfs out all there funds. Then the fall gets here and it's back in the saddel.
It was around March i was supposed to go in for an MRi and work was starting to pick up for both buisnesses. Great jobs for Wasatch Urban. I had a loyal clientel rolling, just Beautiful to watch somthing you've put so much love into grow. Suckes when its growing and yer not.
Dr Bob had procured Wasatches sevices. It was this job that would be the last time i would totaly clean up a tree. It was a Honey locust, i was able to move relitively well though. But it was on this job the bladder problem returned. It would feel like i had to pass a stone. I would drop everything i was doing to find anywhere i could to let my pice breath flames and agian a few squirts was all. Go back to what i was doing and the flames would just breath on there own. So i would just have to work through it, smell, wet pants and all. Bengal Blvrd Market being a few streets over was a place i was always at for the Banyo. This is where i would just break down and lose it. "How can i fix this!?" I would plead and sob to myself.
The MRI was a day after Dr Bobs's job was completed. When i showed up at Radiology the Tech "Mr Reid, we have you scedualed for the Marathon, Head, C-spine, T-spine and pelvis. You'll be in there for around 6 hours." I ABOUT SHIT. Then she made some calls. "K i got rid of the pevic section but where still looking at around 4 hours." It was still realy overwhelming. "I dont know how im gonna stay still for 4 hours." Pissing or snhiting myself in the capsule was a very real fear. I was also experencing involintary twitches all the time. (spasims)
This MRI was a nightmare. I made it 45 minutes and then the spasims began. Small ones at first, sudden twiches at first. The tech would chime in on the Black crows, "Chris we need you to stay as still as possible." "Man, in sorry, i'll try to do better."
Then it went from subtle to wild. A leg would just kick, or an arm would spaz the same way. Agian a Tech would interupt the tunes, this time a woman, "Chris you need to stay still" Frustation in her voice "Im so sorry, im trying" About 20 more minutes went by, agian my body started doing the spaz thing "Chris!! You got to stay still!!" this time i could hear anger "Im tryig!!" You fuckn bitch i mutterd under mybreath. "There is no point in you even being here ifb your gonna move around like you are!!" "Lady" waterworks began, "Im doing everything possible to fucken stay still" sobbing "I dont fuken know how to stop!! Dont you fucken people understand!!? If i could, i fucken would bitch!!!" I roared. Aint life grand returned to the head set for about 20 seconds. This time a dude chimed back over Widespread "What can i do to help you. i was burning up inside that thing. "Im burning up in here." He paused the cycle, ejected me from the capsul, came out and pulled the sheets off me " Calm down Chris just do the best you can to stay still man." "IM sorry im loosing it, i don't know how to stop this.." Trying to gain control of myself. "You never should have been scedualed for all this at once. And you probibly should have had some valume to keep those spazums down. We have twenty more minutes and then i inject you with some contrast ink, we,re almost done. Can you hang in there?" "I can, i dont know about the rest of me....?" "Ok here we go" and inserted me back into the capsul. From that point i still had spazums but not near what they were.
With every thing complete, the capsul spit me back out once agian and dude returned to yank the ink line out of my arm. It was then that i realized that i was just saturated with sweat. When i came out of the chamber i was looking for that voice that just got me livid as all hell. She was nowhere to be seen. "Thats right..run that bitch outa here..." I do alot of muttering. Guy told me my doctor would be intouch in a week to scedual results.
Agian another non life or death situation that left me feeling as though i owened the definition to the word pussy. It was a hard one to swallow. Thank god i was alone.
It was around March i was supposed to go in for an MRi and work was starting to pick up for both buisnesses. Great jobs for Wasatch Urban. I had a loyal clientel rolling, just Beautiful to watch somthing you've put so much love into grow. Suckes when its growing and yer not.
Dr Bob had procured Wasatches sevices. It was this job that would be the last time i would totaly clean up a tree. It was a Honey locust, i was able to move relitively well though. But it was on this job the bladder problem returned. It would feel like i had to pass a stone. I would drop everything i was doing to find anywhere i could to let my pice breath flames and agian a few squirts was all. Go back to what i was doing and the flames would just breath on there own. So i would just have to work through it, smell, wet pants and all. Bengal Blvrd Market being a few streets over was a place i was always at for the Banyo. This is where i would just break down and lose it. "How can i fix this!?" I would plead and sob to myself.
The MRI was a day after Dr Bobs's job was completed. When i showed up at Radiology the Tech "Mr Reid, we have you scedualed for the Marathon, Head, C-spine, T-spine and pelvis. You'll be in there for around 6 hours." I ABOUT SHIT. Then she made some calls. "K i got rid of the pevic section but where still looking at around 4 hours." It was still realy overwhelming. "I dont know how im gonna stay still for 4 hours." Pissing or snhiting myself in the capsule was a very real fear. I was also experencing involintary twitches all the time. (spasims)
This MRI was a nightmare. I made it 45 minutes and then the spasims began. Small ones at first, sudden twiches at first. The tech would chime in on the Black crows, "Chris we need you to stay as still as possible." "Man, in sorry, i'll try to do better."
Then it went from subtle to wild. A leg would just kick, or an arm would spaz the same way. Agian a Tech would interupt the tunes, this time a woman, "Chris you need to stay still" Frustation in her voice "Im so sorry, im trying" About 20 more minutes went by, agian my body started doing the spaz thing "Chris!! You got to stay still!!" this time i could hear anger "Im tryig!!" You fuckn bitch i mutterd under mybreath. "There is no point in you even being here ifb your gonna move around like you are!!" "Lady" waterworks began, "Im doing everything possible to fucken stay still" sobbing "I dont fuken know how to stop!! Dont you fucken people understand!!? If i could, i fucken would bitch!!!" I roared. Aint life grand returned to the head set for about 20 seconds. This time a dude chimed back over Widespread "What can i do to help you. i was burning up inside that thing. "Im burning up in here." He paused the cycle, ejected me from the capsul, came out and pulled the sheets off me " Calm down Chris just do the best you can to stay still man." "IM sorry im loosing it, i don't know how to stop this.." Trying to gain control of myself. "You never should have been scedualed for all this at once. And you probibly should have had some valume to keep those spazums down. We have twenty more minutes and then i inject you with some contrast ink, we,re almost done. Can you hang in there?" "I can, i dont know about the rest of me....?" "Ok here we go" and inserted me back into the capsul. From that point i still had spazums but not near what they were.
With every thing complete, the capsul spit me back out once agian and dude returned to yank the ink line out of my arm. It was then that i realized that i was just saturated with sweat. When i came out of the chamber i was looking for that voice that just got me livid as all hell. She was nowhere to be seen. "Thats right..run that bitch outa here..." I do alot of muttering. Guy told me my doctor would be intouch in a week to scedual results.
Agian another non life or death situation that left me feeling as though i owened the definition to the word pussy. It was a hard one to swallow. Thank god i was alone.
Friday, July 13, 2012
IIIIIIiiii see your eyes
After dianoses, i suppose Dr Ren's observation of me being Cavaler was pretty accurate. Because all there was was Ms, Me and Cavaler. My attitude twords adversity has always been, in one way or another, confrotational. It has been a very hard lesson for me to learn to "Pick your battles wisely" People would tell me from time to time "You cant win them all" My reply, altough not always verbal, amounted to "Buuullshit!" it cost me a carrier,relationships, loves, friends and family, although, of all the things i've lost, the worst being myself. For without it none of those other things mean shit. A struggle indeed.
Still not quite grasping the magnitude of what Mutipal sclrosis was. To me it ment difficulty walking, climbing, cuting, lifting.....peeing, shiting, fucking. All of which could be remidyed with steroids. Very dangerous out look.
Sex with MS was a blessing...for her. Lots o work for me. ".Extra" chewing gum for her. The regular 45 second orgasim was on strike, which ment more time in th saddel, which unbeknownst to me ment down time and recovery. Atleast i was able to get us.....er...her off, with her wanting more and me a "Dead fuck" respectively...of course. It's not that i could'nt get off, it just wasn't anything like the sexual Tyranasaurus i am!
However, it was Cavaler that got me up and to work everyday, it got me to the bar stools and dreamers 50% percent of what i was (still alot). It kept me running bids for both companys. It kept my resentment of all these afflictions and my embers glowing red. I was determined to make MS conform to me and not me to it. Another way i would acomplish this was with ridicule. For some of the symptoms, the disese and for myself.
One example of this was the first few times i had to "make the unit swallow the sword" (cath) I just could not believe i was putting a 12" tube down my pice!! After the stunt was preformed "I amaze myself, i need to you tube this shit!!" This is how i would share my great feat with the bartop at the drink. Or threatn to get on the bartop and preform the helicopter with cath inserted. A few times i would start putting cocktail straws together. Someone would yell down the bar "Hey Chris!? What the hell you doin man!? I would keep on task and reply "I gotta piss bad!! I left my "rig" at home. Im gonna McGruber it." To which i got many different reactions. I found this absolutely halarious. One time i jumped down from the bar with my imposter sword in hand and headed for the banyo. Some started tripn out, one guy started to jump off his stool to persue "I gotta see this shit!"
Sunday, July 1, 2012
So wont cha ;4
We got into see Dr Z about two weeks after the ER visit. We met yet another Dr at this appointment. Dr Ren. It was now time to get the drugs. Gabapentin, baclifen, anti depressants pills to help me pee, pills to help me sleep pills pills pills pills pills. I was givin a list of differnt kinds of MS spicific Auto immune Drugs and told to "choose one" withn exception to a drug called Tysabri. It was explained to me thatTysabri is more or less the "big gun" in the MS world. "We generally use that drug if the others dont work. There are risks with Tysabri." That left me a few other alternatives .
A drug called Avonex is an IM (Inter muscular) shot 'You administer to yourself." There was another drug called Rebif "It's a sub cutanius shot you also self administer every other day." There was a couple others that wernt even discused. It was really quite odd "pick one" How in the hell was i supposed to know which one to use. The Dr's were a little reluctant to help me pick one. It was decided Rebif would be the best for me. Dr Ren made the comment that "Youve gotta be the most cavaler patient ive ever met. Usually people are having a break down and crying. You got this fearless attitude." Ignorence i suppose. Looking back it's the best attitude i could have had. They also scedualed another MRI a few months down the line.
For the next few months Ms and i engaged in battle. My will versus a chicken shit alement created by a Condesending Creator.
And for awhile it was to work as usual. Or as best as i could. Like i sayed there was a grip of symptoms to deal with. I could go on and on with those. Defience it seems was part of the mold i was sent to this earth with. Made my handelers mad as hell, had this not been apart of my spirit i would have been a true bitch to my new cell mate named Sclrosis (scares).
Saturday, June 9, 2012
So wontb cha ; 3
The first time i herd the term "angle's" it was a bro of mine who used it to discribe a certan kind of friend. It was such a good word. i adopted it. To have anything negative or positive attach itself to you. Inevitably they or it slowly or quickly "angle" themselfs into every aspect of one's reality. This was something my Pa was ALWAYS trying to help a young Reid to understand. Usually the affects of hangin with bad "elements" of which there were a great many. Me being who i was "I gotta check this shit out!! :}-" It took this little indian a long ass time to understand the wisdom of thy elder.
That being said. The lesson's i thought i understood were going to overhaul my databanks over the next 6 or so months.
Not long after that Lambs canyon job (days) the flakes flew. Which brought up a new fear. The tree work goes on hiadus for the winter. Chainsaws get swaped for plows and salt broadcasters, lots of driving,in the snow..on the ice..in the dark. Considring the state of my legs, it spooked the shit outa me. But this year my normal rout was swaped out for a new one that required alot less on road driving. The part that made me a bit skittish was my pick up was taken in exchange i was given a disel tanker truck along with 300 gallons brine solutione to drive from the yard to Draper. where a CAT awaited me for the removal part.
Another thing we did for winter time work was Christmas lights. Roof, windows, shrubs, trees, flag poles, bridges, what ever you want your lights hung on, we would figure out how. This poesed obvious issues for me as 95% of that work was done from a ladder in some way. Any Sup that would choose to send anyone with leg and foot issues out on ladders and roof tops in the ice and snow and keep a fully abeled individual at the shop to build lights and do light duty work was a piss poor decision maker.
The cold really made life extremely difficult for me. My hands would freeze inside of my gloves. My fingers would become rigid and stiff and felt waxy, throw in some smokes, they would hurt so bad. Picking up the 50 lb bags of salt to fill the broadcaster was a joke. It was so dishartning, i am no stranger to the cold, growing up here, i loved and fuctioned in all the elements, but not now.
A symtom that began to compound its self was taking a leak. My days begin with a rockstar and or a big coffee. As everyone is aware these beverages induce one to pee, alot. Taking a piss every 10 min with minamal results went from being an annoyance to another reason to go to the Emergency room.
It got to the point that i would sit down to pee, i did'nt ever want to relive what i went through in Spokane. The urge to pee was desperite. It was always, run to the banyo, sit push for a squirt or maybe a couple of drops, that would leave me with an even bigger feeling of having to pee, "Am i passing fucking stones too!?" amongst other things would cross my mind. After getting in trouble for beating on the banyo walls and causing pictures to fall and break due to my outbursts of pain, i was gonna once and for all empty my bladder. Sitting there i pushed like i needed an epidural. Results turened up a damn splash. That just infuriated me. Convinced i was passing a boulder, logic told me in was just a matter of hydrolics. We just needed to generate more head, and so the Elvis olympics began. They ended rather rudely at the University ER.
In the process of generating the force needed to blow the phantom boulder out of the line. We did some serious damage to the valves as everything was just "Deadheading." Which is another way of saying i began pushing guts out my ass! And now i had two serious pains.
The ride to the U was so painful. Some what humiliating to share these issues with an ER staff let alone my wife. "This one owta generate some laugh's. They're gonna think we did some damage digin a marmet out my ass, due to some wild sex game gone awry or somethin.." In shame. Teri began to laugh. "See what i mean.." To which she laughed even more.
"Im gonna have to harvest your urine" "Harvest..? " The er nurse informed me and went to grab a cath kit. "Great now they're gonna violate my unit."
She lubed up a tube that was quite long, my eyes got real big. "Your gonna turn my unit into a sword swalower!?" Teri began to laugh as did the nurse. She began the procedure. It hurt like hell and i did'nt hesitate letting all of the er know. She got the swored about half way in but then took it out "I probibly needa smaller catherter" "Probibly, as you can see, im hung like a deer mouse..." When she left i began to pee on my own "Thank GOD.."
Two more great things happend. I got lots of morpheen and I was introduced to my new and improved Neurologist 5.0, Dr Z.
.
That being said. The lesson's i thought i understood were going to overhaul my databanks over the next 6 or so months.
Not long after that Lambs canyon job (days) the flakes flew. Which brought up a new fear. The tree work goes on hiadus for the winter. Chainsaws get swaped for plows and salt broadcasters, lots of driving,in the snow..on the ice..in the dark. Considring the state of my legs, it spooked the shit outa me. But this year my normal rout was swaped out for a new one that required alot less on road driving. The part that made me a bit skittish was my pick up was taken in exchange i was given a disel tanker truck along with 300 gallons brine solutione to drive from the yard to Draper. where a CAT awaited me for the removal part.
Another thing we did for winter time work was Christmas lights. Roof, windows, shrubs, trees, flag poles, bridges, what ever you want your lights hung on, we would figure out how. This poesed obvious issues for me as 95% of that work was done from a ladder in some way. Any Sup that would choose to send anyone with leg and foot issues out on ladders and roof tops in the ice and snow and keep a fully abeled individual at the shop to build lights and do light duty work was a piss poor decision maker.
The cold really made life extremely difficult for me. My hands would freeze inside of my gloves. My fingers would become rigid and stiff and felt waxy, throw in some smokes, they would hurt so bad. Picking up the 50 lb bags of salt to fill the broadcaster was a joke. It was so dishartning, i am no stranger to the cold, growing up here, i loved and fuctioned in all the elements, but not now.
A symtom that began to compound its self was taking a leak. My days begin with a rockstar and or a big coffee. As everyone is aware these beverages induce one to pee, alot. Taking a piss every 10 min with minamal results went from being an annoyance to another reason to go to the Emergency room.
It got to the point that i would sit down to pee, i did'nt ever want to relive what i went through in Spokane. The urge to pee was desperite. It was always, run to the banyo, sit push for a squirt or maybe a couple of drops, that would leave me with an even bigger feeling of having to pee, "Am i passing fucking stones too!?" amongst other things would cross my mind. After getting in trouble for beating on the banyo walls and causing pictures to fall and break due to my outbursts of pain, i was gonna once and for all empty my bladder. Sitting there i pushed like i needed an epidural. Results turened up a damn splash. That just infuriated me. Convinced i was passing a boulder, logic told me in was just a matter of hydrolics. We just needed to generate more head, and so the Elvis olympics began. They ended rather rudely at the University ER.
In the process of generating the force needed to blow the phantom boulder out of the line. We did some serious damage to the valves as everything was just "Deadheading." Which is another way of saying i began pushing guts out my ass! And now i had two serious pains.
The ride to the U was so painful. Some what humiliating to share these issues with an ER staff let alone my wife. "This one owta generate some laugh's. They're gonna think we did some damage digin a marmet out my ass, due to some wild sex game gone awry or somethin.." In shame. Teri began to laugh. "See what i mean.." To which she laughed even more.
"Im gonna have to harvest your urine" "Harvest..? " The er nurse informed me and went to grab a cath kit. "Great now they're gonna violate my unit."
She lubed up a tube that was quite long, my eyes got real big. "Your gonna turn my unit into a sword swalower!?" Teri began to laugh as did the nurse. She began the procedure. It hurt like hell and i did'nt hesitate letting all of the er know. She got the swored about half way in but then took it out "I probibly needa smaller catherter" "Probibly, as you can see, im hung like a deer mouse..." When she left i began to pee on my own "Thank GOD.."
Two more great things happend. I got lots of morpheen and I was introduced to my new and improved Neurologist 5.0, Dr Z.
.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
So wont cha ;2
I dont know if it was Dr Dill, Dr weeds and staff, the Diagnoses, the whole experence or the fact i desperately whanted/needed a fuckin shot 3-4 days ago. Eather way the three rounds of steroids pumped life back into my legs and they were intent on gettin my ass to a bar stool.
When it came time to exit the hospital, Dr Dill gave me some numbers told me to call and make an apointment soon as he was booked outb 2 and a half months as it was. Everything he said to me sounded like "Blah blah blaah blaaaaaaaaaaah." Except the booked out 2 1/2 part to which an anger switch fliped in my head. Just then we decided Dr Dill Was a douch to the uber degree and he's fired! "Comon man its Barstools antd Dreamer's time." I could not get out of that place fast enough.
Teri and i left strait away to the Huddle for some liquid ignorance. It's really hard to explain any kind of thought process. A form of denile i suppose. One thing i do know. I was gonna "kick MS's ass! I've had my ass handed to me many times! There aint nothing this thing can do to me that aint been done before!! Lets dance bitch!!" The band was already playing. A tune never herd yet i was determined to leed.
The time i was away from work was a serious threat to my familys livlyhood. It was about 3 days longer than i had vacation time to cover. The Maintenence and Applicators each donated some of his/her time to cover me. This would be the first of a series of gestures from my Brothers/sisters at my home unit. I am still so touched when i think about it......Thank you all so much!!
There was one day of chill time before it was time to resume the game. While we doing the big whisky tree, we were able to pick up another removal scheduled for saturday. Duane skined it out about half way. Put a rope in it,ran it through a block we set in another tree and ran it to the Cummins. Putting Duane under the tree was out of the question,the tree had a lean that was imposing on the cabin hence all the rigging. If something went wrong under there, it was gonna be ME that fucked it up.
My head and neck were really begining to ache like never before. I began the day with 2-Perkesets, 1 more at noon, and the magic began to where off around 2:00. I dont think we finished until around 5:00. Agian Duane had to round up everything, load it all and sdrive us home. Let me say that a leak in your spinal cord is so debilitating!
When you fell a tree optimaly you want at least two escape routes should something go wrong. Well i had them alright, it was the using them that posed my dilemma, so my face cut had to be right on. When my face cut was completed is when all the insect dammage showed its face. With the majority of heart wood turnd dust and a bit of a cat face it was imparitive the back cut be done "golf pro" like.
We were able to get it to the earth, i gotta say it wasnt as precise as i would have liked, but hell, cabin still standing as was i (barely) "I'll take it" and we got it cleaned up. It was a good thing it all went so well, my neck had pushed my working limits. It (neck) would not let me raise my head with out it feeling like a noose was on the verge of breaking it, i was brought to tears several times.
This was the last time i was in Lambs Canyon, for as much beauty as she held, i was taxed dearly for it.
The next day i was in the Er agian, this time it was no mystery i did'nt recive the superbowl ring treatment, nope, i was sent strait to radiology for the dreaded blood patch.
The technition explained it to me. They take 20cc's of blood out of me to reinject back at the puncture site. Your spinalcord comtains nerves and CSF thats it. No blood, which makes cloting very difficult. "Did you follow the instructions and stay flat for a couple days?" "No maaan, Dr Weed's told me otherwise and had mes up and try to stand like 2 hours after you did the puncture." "What Dr told you this!?" Dr Weed's was full of shit!! The patch was way more painful. The words "Your gonna feel alot of pressure. K here we go DONT MOVE AT ALL." He was right about there being alot of pressure. There was much more than the first time. So much more it caused me to shutter and flintch with the needle in me! "Chris you,ve got to stay compleaty still" i could hear the urgentcy in his voice and i was really trying to but my body was giving me the finger. Fully aware of what could happen moving with the needle in my back, i was desperetly trying to still myself. Between the pain and the uncontrolable moving i lost control of myself and the waterworks along with some very loud F bombs comenced. Just then one of the techs began to comfort me almost as if she was my girlfriend. Runing her fingers along the back of my neck and whispering assurences to me.Thank God for her, the spasing decreased substantualy.
"You should be feeling alot better in a couple of hours.That blood willplug that hole up nicely."
When it came time to exit the hospital, Dr Dill gave me some numbers told me to call and make an apointment soon as he was booked outb 2 and a half months as it was. Everything he said to me sounded like "Blah blah blaah blaaaaaaaaaaah." Except the booked out 2 1/2 part to which an anger switch fliped in my head. Just then we decided Dr Dill Was a douch to the uber degree and he's fired! "Comon man its Barstools antd Dreamer's time." I could not get out of that place fast enough.
Teri and i left strait away to the Huddle for some liquid ignorance. It's really hard to explain any kind of thought process. A form of denile i suppose. One thing i do know. I was gonna "kick MS's ass! I've had my ass handed to me many times! There aint nothing this thing can do to me that aint been done before!! Lets dance bitch!!" The band was already playing. A tune never herd yet i was determined to leed.
The time i was away from work was a serious threat to my familys livlyhood. It was about 3 days longer than i had vacation time to cover. The Maintenence and Applicators each donated some of his/her time to cover me. This would be the first of a series of gestures from my Brothers/sisters at my home unit. I am still so touched when i think about it......Thank you all so much!!
There was one day of chill time before it was time to resume the game. While we doing the big whisky tree, we were able to pick up another removal scheduled for saturday. Duane skined it out about half way. Put a rope in it,ran it through a block we set in another tree and ran it to the Cummins. Putting Duane under the tree was out of the question,the tree had a lean that was imposing on the cabin hence all the rigging. If something went wrong under there, it was gonna be ME that fucked it up.
My head and neck were really begining to ache like never before. I began the day with 2-Perkesets, 1 more at noon, and the magic began to where off around 2:00. I dont think we finished until around 5:00. Agian Duane had to round up everything, load it all and sdrive us home. Let me say that a leak in your spinal cord is so debilitating!
When you fell a tree optimaly you want at least two escape routes should something go wrong. Well i had them alright, it was the using them that posed my dilemma, so my face cut had to be right on. When my face cut was completed is when all the insect dammage showed its face. With the majority of heart wood turnd dust and a bit of a cat face it was imparitive the back cut be done "golf pro" like.
We were able to get it to the earth, i gotta say it wasnt as precise as i would have liked, but hell, cabin still standing as was i (barely) "I'll take it" and we got it cleaned up. It was a good thing it all went so well, my neck had pushed my working limits. It (neck) would not let me raise my head with out it feeling like a noose was on the verge of breaking it, i was brought to tears several times.
This was the last time i was in Lambs Canyon, for as much beauty as she held, i was taxed dearly for it.
The next day i was in the Er agian, this time it was no mystery i did'nt recive the superbowl ring treatment, nope, i was sent strait to radiology for the dreaded blood patch.
The technition explained it to me. They take 20cc's of blood out of me to reinject back at the puncture site. Your spinalcord comtains nerves and CSF thats it. No blood, which makes cloting very difficult. "Did you follow the instructions and stay flat for a couple days?" "No maaan, Dr Weed's told me otherwise and had mes up and try to stand like 2 hours after you did the puncture." "What Dr told you this!?" Dr Weed's was full of shit!! The patch was way more painful. The words "Your gonna feel alot of pressure. K here we go DONT MOVE AT ALL." He was right about there being alot of pressure. There was much more than the first time. So much more it caused me to shutter and flintch with the needle in me! "Chris you,ve got to stay compleaty still" i could hear the urgentcy in his voice and i was really trying to but my body was giving me the finger. Fully aware of what could happen moving with the needle in my back, i was desperetly trying to still myself. Between the pain and the uncontrolable moving i lost control of myself and the waterworks along with some very loud F bombs comenced. Just then one of the techs began to comfort me almost as if she was my girlfriend. Runing her fingers along the back of my neck and whispering assurences to me.Thank God for her, the spasing decreased substantualy.
"You should be feeling alot better in a couple of hours.That blood willplug that hole up nicely."
Thursday, May 31, 2012
So wont cha be fair...?
The ride to the Hospital definatly had the auora of October,still a bit of bcolor left non the trees but not much. "We gotta go get some shots after were done here, ok?" "Lets just wait and see if your even gonna be leaving. They might admit you." "Man i seen this episode on House, i swear. Surely they'll just refer me to a Neurologist and send me home? Mmm nit's not like im die'n or anything, at least i dont think so anyway....?" "Just gotta wait and see"
Hence, a second objective was identified. To get in as many Boro's as i could before we got to the ER.
Ofcourse i was wheelchaired in. They did a very thurough, physical exam. This would scar me, as i had reached a milestone, the first time someone put they'r finger up my ass. I have been an EMT, and could not for the dignity of me figure out what he was going to find out by doing this "You gonna kiss me when your done?" A disgusted look and a "It's gotta be done." When he did this, i was instantly reminded of my dog.
Bear was an Akita. This breed has scent glands in they'r ass. From time to time they can plug up and become inflamed. What leeds an owner to suspition is excesive licking in the area. The next step is to drain them, it has to be done manualy. Posesing the mouth of a Wolverine and the temperment to match. I tied his ass up to a chainlink fence to oparate.
Not having a latex glove i McGruberd one with a Trojan. Wanting to make sure Bear kept all possible dognanty and K-mility, i rinced all the spermicide lube and used raw eggwhite. Bear had a gaaze on me luben up like he knew exacly what was going to be attemted. It took me two attempts. Bear became a Kodiak as my finger just baerly made any contact. Three times i had to retie him until finely, he went from Kodiak to whining puppy. "I'm so sorry Bear...i swear your gonna be glad i did this..."
After going though the whole SAMPLE history bit and tests on all the matter extracted from me. The MS discussion began and ended with the admitance into "Mcdunn Dee" Hospital. They then aranged acat scan. That ment my 6 gage had to come out. Luckly the tech had a pipe wrench and vise grips! The next step was an MRI. After that is when i met Dr's Dill and Weeds. Dr Dill was the one who explained "You have Quite a few Black Spots on your brain and spine. They are a signature of the damage done by MS." This is when i recived my MS 101 from Dr Dill who was very vage with his discriptions and took few questions. a lousy Professer for my Intro to MS education. Dr Weeds on the other hand was a bit more informative and provided more discriptive answers. He told my wife "He's got more spots than i have ever personaly seen."
My insurance dictated i have a spinal puncture for indisputable proof thatn only my Cirebrel spinal fluid could provide. At this hospital this required a trip to Radioligy. I remember the epidural's Teri got delivering our kids. After curling up in a ball its followed by somenerve wracking words "K now, DONT MOVE A HAIR. Your gonna feel some pressure." It's a spooky fuckin deal. The actual pain is quite minimal, it's the idea of someone putting a needle in your spinaltcord that really messes with your head that could induce shock for some.
"Stay on your back and keep your movements to a minumum for 2-3 days. Alow that hole to seel itself. Or it'll start leaking and you 'll have one hell of a headache and it wont go away. You'll have to comeback. The only way to stop it's with a Bloodpatch." That same day Dr Weeds was wanting me to preform some test's that required me to stand and try to walk. To whicth i protested with what the Radioligist instructed me to do. He countered with "If its gonna leek it would have already begun."
The fact that i had lost that ability to walk was bittersweet. No risking any leakage (so i thought). But was i really not gonna walk agian? When the results from my puncture came back, a three day course of steroids was begun. Dr Dill informed me "You have Mutipal Sclrosis."
Hence, a second objective was identified. To get in as many Boro's as i could before we got to the ER.
Ofcourse i was wheelchaired in. They did a very thurough, physical exam. This would scar me, as i had reached a milestone, the first time someone put they'r finger up my ass. I have been an EMT, and could not for the dignity of me figure out what he was going to find out by doing this "You gonna kiss me when your done?" A disgusted look and a "It's gotta be done." When he did this, i was instantly reminded of my dog.
Bear was an Akita. This breed has scent glands in they'r ass. From time to time they can plug up and become inflamed. What leeds an owner to suspition is excesive licking in the area. The next step is to drain them, it has to be done manualy. Posesing the mouth of a Wolverine and the temperment to match. I tied his ass up to a chainlink fence to oparate.
Not having a latex glove i McGruberd one with a Trojan. Wanting to make sure Bear kept all possible dognanty and K-mility, i rinced all the spermicide lube and used raw eggwhite. Bear had a gaaze on me luben up like he knew exacly what was going to be attemted. It took me two attempts. Bear became a Kodiak as my finger just baerly made any contact. Three times i had to retie him until finely, he went from Kodiak to whining puppy. "I'm so sorry Bear...i swear your gonna be glad i did this..."
After going though the whole SAMPLE history bit and tests on all the matter extracted from me. The MS discussion began and ended with the admitance into "Mcdunn Dee" Hospital. They then aranged acat scan. That ment my 6 gage had to come out. Luckly the tech had a pipe wrench and vise grips! The next step was an MRI. After that is when i met Dr's Dill and Weeds. Dr Dill was the one who explained "You have Quite a few Black Spots on your brain and spine. They are a signature of the damage done by MS." This is when i recived my MS 101 from Dr Dill who was very vage with his discriptions and took few questions. a lousy Professer for my Intro to MS education. Dr Weeds on the other hand was a bit more informative and provided more discriptive answers. He told my wife "He's got more spots than i have ever personaly seen."
My insurance dictated i have a spinal puncture for indisputable proof thatn only my Cirebrel spinal fluid could provide. At this hospital this required a trip to Radioligy. I remember the epidural's Teri got delivering our kids. After curling up in a ball its followed by somenerve wracking words "K now, DONT MOVE A HAIR. Your gonna feel some pressure." It's a spooky fuckin deal. The actual pain is quite minimal, it's the idea of someone putting a needle in your spinaltcord that really messes with your head that could induce shock for some.
"Stay on your back and keep your movements to a minumum for 2-3 days. Alow that hole to seel itself. Or it'll start leaking and you 'll have one hell of a headache and it wont go away. You'll have to comeback. The only way to stop it's with a Bloodpatch." That same day Dr Weeds was wanting me to preform some test's that required me to stand and try to walk. To whicth i protested with what the Radioligist instructed me to do. He countered with "If its gonna leek it would have already begun."
The fact that i had lost that ability to walk was bittersweet. No risking any leakage (so i thought). But was i really not gonna walk agian? When the results from my puncture came back, a three day course of steroids was begun. Dr Dill informed me "You have Mutipal Sclrosis."
Saturday, May 26, 2012
You have ;6
I can't recall how my bag swere loaded. But i do remember the look on Teri's face. My eyes glued to, nothing really, just gazeing, i suppose....."I know....I cant fuckn do this shit anymore.....I aint bad enough...No Mas......we going now?" It was at this moment, my spirit was truely broke.
It took me a long long time getting from the terminal to the bagage claim to curb side wheni got there, it looked like the fourlane speedway in da hoood. Really not giving one dam if i got hit, i just stagard out into the crosswalk without a glance, nothing. That really pisses off the cab drivers "Ahh Fuck yooooooou..." to the angry horns.
We decided the next day would be my official day of surrender.
It was about noon when Duane came over. When i answered the door the Greeting i got was "Reid we'
re going to the hospital. I dont care if we gotta hog tie you." "I'm going maaaan." Duanes wing man in the Back country "The Bully" had had some similer issues mainly sight. It was on a trip back from B.C. that his vision was doing some crazy shit. It scared him enough to see the DOC upon there return home. "Get em to a Doctor ASAP." He told Duane, upon his inquiry of symtom comparison. Teri who tended bar at the C.I. had one of her regulars mention that after seeing me walk and listenning to Teri's concern's/fear's, he volenteered that a good friend of his had issues that were "errily similar."
"The Bully" Ended up in the MRI capsul. He recived his results over the phone while on his way to Moab. Jason, Teri's regular. His buddy, also had to turn himself in to the Medical atthority's as well.
Comeing home from the Airport, Teri was a little reluctant to tell me about Jason's concern. As Jason's friend was Diagnosed with the same thing as "The Bully." "I dont want to scare you babe. But we think you might have Multipal Sclrosis
It took me a long long time getting from the terminal to the bagage claim to curb side wheni got there, it looked like the fourlane speedway in da hoood. Really not giving one dam if i got hit, i just stagard out into the crosswalk without a glance, nothing. That really pisses off the cab drivers "Ahh Fuck yooooooou..." to the angry horns.
We decided the next day would be my official day of surrender.
It was about noon when Duane came over. When i answered the door the Greeting i got was "Reid we'
re going to the hospital. I dont care if we gotta hog tie you." "I'm going maaaan." Duanes wing man in the Back country "The Bully" had had some similer issues mainly sight. It was on a trip back from B.C. that his vision was doing some crazy shit. It scared him enough to see the DOC upon there return home. "Get em to a Doctor ASAP." He told Duane, upon his inquiry of symtom comparison. Teri who tended bar at the C.I. had one of her regulars mention that after seeing me walk and listenning to Teri's concern's/fear's, he volenteered that a good friend of his had issues that were "errily similar."
"The Bully" Ended up in the MRI capsul. He recived his results over the phone while on his way to Moab. Jason, Teri's regular. His buddy, also had to turn himself in to the Medical atthority's as well.
Comeing home from the Airport, Teri was a little reluctant to tell me about Jason's concern. As Jason's friend was Diagnosed with the same thing as "The Bully." "I dont want to scare you babe. But we think you might have Multipal Sclrosis
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
You have ;5
There have been times in my life im sure rings true for everyone, at somepoint in time. In the middle of a task, "commited", and all of the sudden your bowels have hijacked the whole opperation. Praying for a banyoto suddenly appear. For some the "Magic" they poses is strong enough that a banyo actualy makes its self tangeable. Other folks have to resort to Mcgrubering themself's one. Some are able to endure untill something suitable comes along. Some however are beyond the scope of any "Magic" and scoff at Mcgruber.
I recall a great many many many many"Near miss" situations ive had. A couple of fist fulls being at work. One i remember. We were down in American Fork, in the middle of a large scale job. The "urge" hit me so hard i droped all my tools, saddle, hooks, saw, everything. Left my help alone working for fourty five minutes, without saying a word, walked, rather quickly to the truck and hauledass for anywhere. Swaring to my self "Dude, if you shit your pants.... It'll be a super spendy dump because i'm driving fuckn homeand never comming back!!" And I MENT EVERY WORD. Somehow i was able to endure and find a banyo. There have been a few times a banyo was not an option, ending up in bushes, sometimes in the customers yard. On one occation, the bushes directly under a huge window attatched to a 'plantation' in Martins Point, a very exclusive neghborhood. Talk about covert op's. As SEAL's are taught to go to the water. TREE'ls go to the bushes, when "the shit goes to shit." Aword to the wise,if i catch you , your fired. Its sorta falls into the smokin dope catagory. If your dumb enough to get caught, your dumb enough to be fired
It took me a long as hell time to apply the "If you cant laugh at your self. Who can you laugh at ?" tag on this experence. As far as i was concerned the only ones need know about this be Grandpa and me. But it was the begining of a long lasting personal nightmare. At first, I did tell a couple of close climbing brothers and was able to Richad Pryor myself though it. Still i was rocked to the core.
Chance had brought me to a Miky D's whose bathroom i had to use McGruber skills in even though amenaty's were there i used them all up. After i figure a long 45 min and Hanesless, i emerged and like a fart in the breeze i vanished.
My return could be chareterized as the drive of shame...very slow, tail down between the legs and chain smoking. Confusion ? Self worth just shot. Some may have just said "Dude your being a pussy." Maybe....but my whole world was comming apart and i could'nt really share in any real depht with a single soul. I was still suffering frorm shock yet somehow grasping a flint and stone and reignighting "The only easy day" mentality, but compartmentalization of all these factors was pushing me twords padded room a nd stratejacket territory.
Getting back< Mike had taken off to dump and Granny and Grampy inside now. Wisely i chaped up. Unwisely i piccked up a a "044!?" i just began "The felling Olympics" sport felling the doomed pines alone. Mike got back and we set up the "yarder"placeing a hobbs block 10 - 15' up a pine accross the driveway at the bottom of the hill. On Ax-Men yarding down hill was deemed a supper dangerous tactic and i concur. Thank god Jason was able to send me 2 more bodys "Riggers" which were assigned to dragg the "carrage line and three chocker cables back up the hill. The carrage/drag line went through the block and was attached to the back of my truck, of which Mike would drive and yard thee trees down the hill. Agian Mike had never done tree work in this manner"Man Chris, this made things so much quicker." "And yer back dont hurt at the end of the day." I sincerly hope Mike has been able to apply this little bit of rigging he learned to other situations.
Around noon Ol boy was back in action wantting to see the loging operation on his turff. Everyone figureing out the order of operations was the biggest problem to overcome add in the fact everybody was green, it was chalanging. When all figured out there place and pace it was beautiful.
A couple of times it was not beautiful, which required me to get down bottom and up top at different time's. Sliding down the hill over sections of tree scoured taullus on my ass, painfull but a time and energy saver. Of course the hike back up was painful and spent everybit of what i had left. The crew had become sensitive to the flailing around i had reduced myself to and were hustleing to keep me it the dirt. "Is this what i've been reduced to? A fold my arms and watch fucken asshole?" Tears began to stream as all i could really do was sit in the dirt and think seriously about going to my cell and hanging myself tonight.
"I aint gonna have the strenth to do it" i was reasoning with myyself kinda like Shmegal and Galom "Besides, one day only left we have!!" "Shmeeeegaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal! Noone will likes us with shitsis in our pantsis!!" "Go away! and never come back!! Go away!! and never come back!!" Yes im a mental person who had gone, mental.
When i got back to my "Lamnant for the Weary" the final walk up the stairs ended in a stumble to my shins and palms and a baby crawl for the last few steps. When got to my room I began to round up my shit (phun intended) and had my bag ready to go. The fact that i had to dig all said shit back out what would be twice. I really did.nt pay any mind to. That final night the sun could;nt show its ass fast enough.
The sun did no such thing before the headlights of J's pick em up truck reflected off my walls. This day would be fairly easy but as always rang true for most all last days. It just would'nt end.
The day consisted of the continuation of my sport felling of the closist trees left for last. Whith Mike swampn and chipin right behind me. We left two trees sytanding next to High voltage trasmision lines, they were climb/mutilate and dont hit any wires. It was a bit sketchy, but i got em done. J came and got me for delivery to some of TSA's finest.
Opening the door to my wifes Odassie, im met with "O MY GOD CHRIS!! Your going to a fucking hospital!!"
I recall a great many many many many"Near miss" situations ive had. A couple of fist fulls being at work. One i remember. We were down in American Fork, in the middle of a large scale job. The "urge" hit me so hard i droped all my tools, saddle, hooks, saw, everything. Left my help alone working for fourty five minutes, without saying a word, walked, rather quickly to the truck and hauledass for anywhere. Swaring to my self "Dude, if you shit your pants.... It'll be a super spendy dump because i'm driving fuckn homeand never comming back!!" And I MENT EVERY WORD. Somehow i was able to endure and find a banyo. There have been a few times a banyo was not an option, ending up in bushes, sometimes in the customers yard. On one occation, the bushes directly under a huge window attatched to a 'plantation' in Martins Point, a very exclusive neghborhood. Talk about covert op's. As SEAL's are taught to go to the water. TREE'ls go to the bushes, when "the shit goes to shit." Aword to the wise,if i catch you , your fired. Its sorta falls into the smokin dope catagory. If your dumb enough to get caught, your dumb enough to be fired
It took me a long as hell time to apply the "If you cant laugh at your self. Who can you laugh at ?" tag on this experence. As far as i was concerned the only ones need know about this be Grandpa and me. But it was the begining of a long lasting personal nightmare. At first, I did tell a couple of close climbing brothers and was able to Richad Pryor myself though it. Still i was rocked to the core.
Chance had brought me to a Miky D's whose bathroom i had to use McGruber skills in even though amenaty's were there i used them all up. After i figure a long 45 min and Hanesless, i emerged and like a fart in the breeze i vanished.
My return could be chareterized as the drive of shame...very slow, tail down between the legs and chain smoking. Confusion ? Self worth just shot. Some may have just said "Dude your being a pussy." Maybe....but my whole world was comming apart and i could'nt really share in any real depht with a single soul. I was still suffering frorm shock yet somehow grasping a flint and stone and reignighting "The only easy day" mentality, but compartmentalization of all these factors was pushing me twords padded room a nd stratejacket territory.
Getting back< Mike had taken off to dump and Granny and Grampy inside now. Wisely i chaped up. Unwisely i piccked up a a "044!?" i just began "The felling Olympics" sport felling the doomed pines alone. Mike got back and we set up the "yarder"placeing a hobbs block 10 - 15' up a pine accross the driveway at the bottom of the hill. On Ax-Men yarding down hill was deemed a supper dangerous tactic and i concur. Thank god Jason was able to send me 2 more bodys "Riggers" which were assigned to dragg the "carrage line and three chocker cables back up the hill. The carrage/drag line went through the block and was attached to the back of my truck, of which Mike would drive and yard thee trees down the hill. Agian Mike had never done tree work in this manner"Man Chris, this made things so much quicker." "And yer back dont hurt at the end of the day." I sincerly hope Mike has been able to apply this little bit of rigging he learned to other situations.
Around noon Ol boy was back in action wantting to see the loging operation on his turff. Everyone figureing out the order of operations was the biggest problem to overcome add in the fact everybody was green, it was chalanging. When all figured out there place and pace it was beautiful.
A couple of times it was not beautiful, which required me to get down bottom and up top at different time's. Sliding down the hill over sections of tree scoured taullus on my ass, painfull but a time and energy saver. Of course the hike back up was painful and spent everybit of what i had left. The crew had become sensitive to the flailing around i had reduced myself to and were hustleing to keep me it the dirt. "Is this what i've been reduced to? A fold my arms and watch fucken asshole?" Tears began to stream as all i could really do was sit in the dirt and think seriously about going to my cell and hanging myself tonight.
"I aint gonna have the strenth to do it" i was reasoning with myyself kinda like Shmegal and Galom "Besides, one day only left we have!!" "Shmeeeegaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal! Noone will likes us with shitsis in our pantsis!!" "Go away! and never come back!! Go away!! and never come back!!" Yes im a mental person who had gone, mental.
When i got back to my "Lamnant for the Weary" the final walk up the stairs ended in a stumble to my shins and palms and a baby crawl for the last few steps. When got to my room I began to round up my shit (phun intended) and had my bag ready to go. The fact that i had to dig all said shit back out what would be twice. I really did.nt pay any mind to. That final night the sun could;nt show its ass fast enough.
The sun did no such thing before the headlights of J's pick em up truck reflected off my walls. This day would be fairly easy but as always rang true for most all last days. It just would'nt end.
The day consisted of the continuation of my sport felling of the closist trees left for last. Whith Mike swampn and chipin right behind me. We left two trees sytanding next to High voltage trasmision lines, they were climb/mutilate and dont hit any wires. It was a bit sketchy, but i got em done. J came and got me for delivery to some of TSA's finest.
Opening the door to my wifes Odassie, im met with "O MY GOD CHRIS!! Your going to a fucking hospital!!"
Friday, May 18, 2012
You have ;4
Another round of stairing at the swirls in the ceiling intwined along with...cureosity? Upon if tomarrow was my Day. How it was gonna go down. Crushed? Impaled? Ripped in two? Hang myself? Decapitate myself. And as always The voice of the real underdog me "Bring it on fuckers!!" It'sno wonder im always into trouble.
That being said. Jason and i got into the "Hanger" early to get the "yaarder set up" from Scott. So first breakfast was quick. Second breakfast, the sun was barely rising and my eyes were doing what i began to refer to as "Rein of Fire" when we were pulling up our customers driveway. He, standing infront of of his garage first breakfast inhand.
"We got this!" over and over quietly putting myself in a "zone" for a tree "I could do with myeyes wide shut." Yet another claim that would be put tothe test, so ta speek. Hauling up gear to the base of the removal Whatever his name was (home owner) and his wife decided to add for another 500 green backs. It stood atop another small incline adjacent to a vinal fence and the garage.
The coffee, Rockstar combo had run it,s course, upon arival i was peeing like a Madd pisser. The last few "leeks" yeilding little to just a few drops but still i fetl as though i had to piss fire. When i got my Dr's bag and all my tools upto the removal i ran(shuffeled) off to release the flames my unit told my brain it had to breeth. One thing thats neerly impossible, climbing with unit distress. Try and try, finaly, a dribble. That was enough for my eye.s to override the unit. Scrambling back, wiggeling into my gear, setting up the wrap and block, explain the need and function and what to do in they'r application. Mike told me hehad never done any blocking with big wood. Seemed like EVERY FUCK-N-TIME!! there was big wood to be rigged, my help was always a Greenhorn to its precision. After the first blockout if you dont have your helps undevided attention. Something's been distroyed and/or someones eather seriously hurt or dead.
There are so many OCD component's to all climbers style. One of many many many i have is the points on my hooks. After doing my whole routeen basacwards they were as sharp as rubber weenee.
Halfway into my acent, in the middle of a pretty good pace, that feeling of spent uranium coolant returned. "Fuck it" its all in yer head man" almost into the top "Fuck dude your gonna piss your drawers!" old man and his wife now on the patio, eyes glued. "Ya mess yer trousers they say! Gal's watch'n and all!" "Fuck it!!! we're committed!!!" Then...i really thought about it. It took all of about a 10th of a second. "You really want ta smell like piss all day!? All sticky and shit!!!?" I could no longer take it. As i swore to myself i was already downloading pee, i threw a runnin bowline around the trunk with Ivy, looped an 8 inline, clicked out my flip line and hit the earth in a single bound. With the quickness of a sloth i was at my chosen trunk, saddle falling around my ankles. Whiped out my unit that was!!.......as dry as could be? Checked my drawers "Dry!?..... O'God, O'God, O'God, Come'On!" Never had i felt like this before. I had herd of storys about warts and differet type of VD. It crossed mymind breiffly before my "pee or flight" took over and i desperately began to"Digg" with my abbs for pee!!?,..CSF!!?...the mucus of my eyes!!?...snott!??..."Fuckn anything!, please..." My voice coming from the bilge of my lungs. Then a squirt. "O'God yes!" Then a weak as hell stream "O'God yes!' And then it stoped. Did'nt matter the visual alone brought on a sense of extacy. This time i was able to get back up the pine with the pee feeling at a minamum. Got the top roped out, and for first time blocking,Mike operated the rigging line like a pro. Following every step explained to the T. I wwas comfortable giveing him bigger and bigger blocks, which got me back to the earth that much quicker.
When i finaly had dirt under the neath of my boots and unlatched my flip line, i did'nt colaps, but began stumbling, to my ass, but used my cooth acting skills to make it appeer done on purpose. Coping a seat in the middle of a bunch of dog shit. Realizing this i still focused on removeing my hooks. Freeing up my feet i sortn of did a bit of break danceing to get to my feet. Standing up the sweet aroma of dog shit shadowing me. "Maaaaan my saddel better not have fuckn dog shit on it!" Striping off my Tree Motion as quickly as possible. Eyeballing the saddle as i pulled my last leg out. "O thank God! i brought it up in front of me for furter inspection "Clean! we can deal with it on our pants, just throw em away at the end of the day." Putting my glove back on to wipe off what i could "Would'nt cha know it" it began to rain like hell. "Come'on Chris!" Mike and the old man were calling out from inside the garage. Went for my Motion and Rainmaned my way to the shelter.
They had a lawnchair opened and set up i did'nt listen for the invetation for. Casualy checkn out the bottoms of my Spotivas for shit. Not wanting to drag dogshit into the spotless garage. "Musta lucked out." and knocked off a semisolid pile. Taking a breath and relaxing, the old man doing the samething in the chair next to mine, gazeing the rain.
It was a very very short gaze. Broken by the "Dog" shit vapors that had now invaded Grandpa's personal space. Clearly, violated. There was no hesitation in the old boy's displeasure as he looked right at me drew in a huge whiff and blew it back out with the force of a farmers snott blow. To which i immeditely reackted with a search for "bin laddin" to no avial. Instantly realizing "O'God no!" my search, as i got up,"No way!!" did'nt include, Rainmaning my way through the "My Fuckn pants!?" Making my way around to the blindside of any truck that could afford me some cover
At first i was just drop trou and let whatever fall asit may. Then was just gonna shove a bare hand down there. Then, my "Navy SEAL, McGruber, Ninja training" smacked the shock right ouda me just in time. Carefully i inscerted my hand down my drawers but not my underdrawers. Contouring the small of my back on to the Hanes down to the orphas area.
A new wave of shock. How do i clean up the small clay like cluster i identifyed upon palpation. Whats more is there more?
Wasnt waitn around to talk to the fuckn media about it eather. In that cab and down the road trying so hard not to sit flaaat,hauln ass, countn turns and keeping vigulent for any stop signs, all the while not feeling from the waist down. Well thats just one hell of a fucking trick.
That being said. Jason and i got into the "Hanger" early to get the "yaarder set up" from Scott. So first breakfast was quick. Second breakfast, the sun was barely rising and my eyes were doing what i began to refer to as "Rein of Fire" when we were pulling up our customers driveway. He, standing infront of of his garage first breakfast inhand.
"We got this!" over and over quietly putting myself in a "zone" for a tree "I could do with myeyes wide shut." Yet another claim that would be put tothe test, so ta speek. Hauling up gear to the base of the removal Whatever his name was (home owner) and his wife decided to add for another 500 green backs. It stood atop another small incline adjacent to a vinal fence and the garage.
The coffee, Rockstar combo had run it,s course, upon arival i was peeing like a Madd pisser. The last few "leeks" yeilding little to just a few drops but still i fetl as though i had to piss fire. When i got my Dr's bag and all my tools upto the removal i ran(shuffeled) off to release the flames my unit told my brain it had to breeth. One thing thats neerly impossible, climbing with unit distress. Try and try, finaly, a dribble. That was enough for my eye.s to override the unit. Scrambling back, wiggeling into my gear, setting up the wrap and block, explain the need and function and what to do in they'r application. Mike told me hehad never done any blocking with big wood. Seemed like EVERY FUCK-N-TIME!! there was big wood to be rigged, my help was always a Greenhorn to its precision. After the first blockout if you dont have your helps undevided attention. Something's been distroyed and/or someones eather seriously hurt or dead.
There are so many OCD component's to all climbers style. One of many many many i have is the points on my hooks. After doing my whole routeen basacwards they were as sharp as rubber weenee.
Halfway into my acent, in the middle of a pretty good pace, that feeling of spent uranium coolant returned. "Fuck it" its all in yer head man" almost into the top "Fuck dude your gonna piss your drawers!" old man and his wife now on the patio, eyes glued. "Ya mess yer trousers they say! Gal's watch'n and all!" "Fuck it!!! we're committed!!!" Then...i really thought about it. It took all of about a 10th of a second. "You really want ta smell like piss all day!? All sticky and shit!!!?" I could no longer take it. As i swore to myself i was already downloading pee, i threw a runnin bowline around the trunk with Ivy, looped an 8 inline, clicked out my flip line and hit the earth in a single bound. With the quickness of a sloth i was at my chosen trunk, saddle falling around my ankles. Whiped out my unit that was!!.......as dry as could be? Checked my drawers "Dry!?..... O'God, O'God, O'God, Come'On!" Never had i felt like this before. I had herd of storys about warts and differet type of VD. It crossed mymind breiffly before my "pee or flight" took over and i desperately began to"Digg" with my abbs for pee!!?,..CSF!!?...the mucus of my eyes!!?...snott!??..."Fuckn anything!, please..." My voice coming from the bilge of my lungs. Then a squirt. "O'God yes!" Then a weak as hell stream "O'God yes!' And then it stoped. Did'nt matter the visual alone brought on a sense of extacy. This time i was able to get back up the pine with the pee feeling at a minamum. Got the top roped out, and for first time blocking,Mike operated the rigging line like a pro. Following every step explained to the T. I wwas comfortable giveing him bigger and bigger blocks, which got me back to the earth that much quicker.
When i finaly had dirt under the neath of my boots and unlatched my flip line, i did'nt colaps, but began stumbling, to my ass, but used my cooth acting skills to make it appeer done on purpose. Coping a seat in the middle of a bunch of dog shit. Realizing this i still focused on removeing my hooks. Freeing up my feet i sortn of did a bit of break danceing to get to my feet. Standing up the sweet aroma of dog shit shadowing me. "Maaaaan my saddel better not have fuckn dog shit on it!" Striping off my Tree Motion as quickly as possible. Eyeballing the saddle as i pulled my last leg out. "O thank God! i brought it up in front of me for furter inspection "Clean! we can deal with it on our pants, just throw em away at the end of the day." Putting my glove back on to wipe off what i could "Would'nt cha know it" it began to rain like hell. "Come'on Chris!" Mike and the old man were calling out from inside the garage. Went for my Motion and Rainmaned my way to the shelter.
They had a lawnchair opened and set up i did'nt listen for the invetation for. Casualy checkn out the bottoms of my Spotivas for shit. Not wanting to drag dogshit into the spotless garage. "Musta lucked out." and knocked off a semisolid pile. Taking a breath and relaxing, the old man doing the samething in the chair next to mine, gazeing the rain.
It was a very very short gaze. Broken by the "Dog" shit vapors that had now invaded Grandpa's personal space. Clearly, violated. There was no hesitation in the old boy's displeasure as he looked right at me drew in a huge whiff and blew it back out with the force of a farmers snott blow. To which i immeditely reackted with a search for "bin laddin" to no avial. Instantly realizing "O'God no!" my search, as i got up,"No way!!" did'nt include, Rainmaning my way through the "My Fuckn pants!?" Making my way around to the blindside of any truck that could afford me some cover
At first i was just drop trou and let whatever fall asit may. Then was just gonna shove a bare hand down there. Then, my "Navy SEAL, McGruber, Ninja training" smacked the shock right ouda me just in time. Carefully i inscerted my hand down my drawers but not my underdrawers. Contouring the small of my back on to the Hanes down to the orphas area.
A new wave of shock. How do i clean up the small clay like cluster i identifyed upon palpation. Whats more is there more?
Wasnt waitn around to talk to the fuckn media about it eather. In that cab and down the road trying so hard not to sit flaaat,hauln ass, countn turns and keeping vigulent for any stop signs, all the while not feeling from the waist down. Well thats just one hell of a fucking trick.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
You have ;3
The fact that i was getting work done had alot too with the excelent work ethic of the folks i was paired up with. All i had to do was climb, rigg and cut. I would begin to drag a limb and Scott would just "What? Gimme that Chris." and just take it from me. I just gave up on draging anything.
When it came to climbing. I think i climed mabe four trees and the concern for falling was after Big Whisky, non existant. The climbing i did on laddders on the other hand, scared the shit out of me. Tri-pod orchard ladders is what most companys use. They have a multitude of uses. One of wich is falling over should u become offbalance or top heavy due to swinging around a chain saw or getting over zelous with an over extended pole saw. Maybe someone like me just unexpectedly just falls...maybe just jump..
Insomniea was someting i was vagely familier with. Not now. I would just lay in bed and listen to the TV and stair at the ceiling, turn and look at the clock seemed like every twenty minutes. One night i though a nice hot shower would do the trick. Trick being they key word here. This caused my vision to go all to shit. Weakness was instant, i could barely turn off the water. It took about 15 minutes of just laying on the bottom of the tub before i could get to my feet and zombie my way back to bed and wait for my alarm too go off.
The las three days i've began to refur to as the "True grit days" yeah i ripped it off . Thats not to leed anyone to belive I was anything like "Rooster" No, more like the dude Rooster and the girl stumble accross that had been strung way up in the tree. "Perhaps in hopes that it would make him more dead."
Mike and i were paired up for a "Fuels reduction" job. Beyond what the locals refer to as the south hill. A retired gentalman from California transplanted himself to a very nice chunk of realestate there. The property was full of pine trees in areas that were concerning him. He was useing language and jargen that only a Firefighter or someone who has been involved in fire would use or understand. Thats when i also found out Mike is a Fire brother from the old school. Come to find out he fought in the Yellowstone Fires of the late 80's. It totaly explained his work ethic. We were able to complete the clear cut along the sides of the road into the home and begin some of the thining on the southeast slope the first day.
The clearcut part of the job was mostly stands of regen and smaller stuff on a very gradual slope so i was able to drag the 200t aroud with me. I do mean drag, my legs were not cooperating that morning. My left leg moreso than the right one. With alot of the smaller trees so close together i was able to stay down on my left knee and sort of "kick stand" my way around on ahe slope, but when i would go to stand, it would be all whabely sometime i would just colapse. There were acouple of times i had to throw my 200 to avoid being dismembered by my own saw. It was noticeable as hell, the homeowner began asking "Are you alright?" I explained a little of what was up with me. If it would have been my turf, i think i would have called my insurance agent perhaps chase some dumbass tree people off my yardage with a 12 gauge.. But the old man just looked at me and said "You need to see a Neuroligist son." He had to have been thinking "This company flew this guy all the way from Salt lake and put him on my turff!! This guy's a fucking specialist!!?"
After lunch my legs were way more cooperative I was able to walk the patch to be thined a little more throughaly. Mike and i began making a few cuts and droping a few trees. Afeter a few were on the ground Mike took off and came back 10 minuites later with another saw and began to half the first grounded tree, put down his saw and began what would have been an insane drag! I began looking at all the flaged trees, looked back at Mike and the trail of my fuckn tears. Once agian "Fuck that shit!"e were at the top of a steep hill that lead strate down to a section of the driveway that ran accross the bottom. Looked accross the drive for a stout tree of which there were many. "Mike stop!!" kept looking "Leave that shit right there and dont cut anything except the stumps i leave," "Well..... how are we getting this stuff outta here." "We,re gonna Ax-men this fuckin shit. We aint dragn shit." "If you say so." With a big old grin.
Back at Jabba's Palace that eve: It was everything a wounded Bounty Hunter could expect, Misery.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
You have ;2
Once agian the sandpaper sheets were forceing the sleep fully clothed issue, but even that had become not enough. The "sand" had infultrated every kind of fabric i used to combat the abrasive texture. Not only that, it had increased it's relestate to include virtualy my whole body. Cope was...Words cant describe the new degree of anguish my mind was having to chew on or the amount of hate i had for cope itself. Somehow that first night i snuck in maybe a couple hours?
My Endurance levels, i dont belive had ever been pushed as they had been. Like off a fucking cliff. Recovery was so little to nonexistant. Even with my new non alcohol diet. The Marlboros were a killer. When i took a drag it was as if the smoke bypassed my lungs entirely and went strate to my muscles particularly my legs. It would feel like some sort hardner was being pumped into my muscles. Being up in Spokane alone dealing with what seemed to be..My existance being erased? Quiting smoking had crossed my mind and mind was like "Hell no!!" no booze, no drugs besides the ibuprofin. No other way to deal with the anxity? No we were gonna be stupid and smoke.
Going down the stairs the next morning was the best i would do the whole time there. On the drive in, agian the visuals were spookey, just had to sit there and "trip" alone. Ibuprofin 800 and the Sysco blend coffee was breakfast. Rockstar and an apple for second breakfast, anything that could instill anykind of refined, focused energy. Legal, illegal i really could not have cared. Although i stumbled upon at lunch one day, Subway gave me a boost. It was so noticable that i insisted Subway at lunch everyday.
Funny enough there was'nt much climbing to be done. On those days i was sent with one hell of a groundman. Mike. On days i did'nt climb i was put on the boom truck with another great individual. Scott Topp. It was Scott that one day while doing a pruning job asked "Hey Chris, whats going on with that club foot you got going there?" "Scott it's like this." Confiding only some, of what was happening to me. "I dont know what the fuck i got! Hey man, what the fuck are richets?" He began laughing his ass off. "Chris i dont think you have to worry about fuckn Richets buddy." "Thank god! that weight's off my shoulders!" laughing along with him. Somehow still a sence of humor. I was gonna need it for the 10,000 dys that lye ahead.
There was one day i climed with Scott as my "RIO" . I mention this only because this was the first/only/last time scott whitnessed my climbing. If Scott had any dbouts he sure did a good job of holding his tounge. We were in a white ash tree that needed to be cut away from the fourth floor back to its collar. The cuts needed to be rigged so as to break nothing. Lucly i hit a decent rigg point for myself and it was a very good thing. Getting my spikes to puch into the hardwood, was "like fuckin Bambi on the ice" i muttered to myself catpawing my way up the latteral. We still got the work completed relitively quiickly, with absolutely nothing left. Well, i was able to lean on my tool (rake).
As the days wound up, so to did the skys. Nodding off for the ride to my dwelling was nothing butt serious dreaming watching the lights begin there show as blue got darker and darker.
My second night was the only night i went moonlighting alone to the bowling ally/casino/ nasty skeeeeeeezzzah depot across a 4 lane auto-ban that had stop lights about 1/2 mile in eather direction. "Fuck that shit!" i kinda made the decision before i even looked. When i did look, the coast was clear. With a brisk shuffel i started off. About 3/4s the way through my first set of lanes lights began moving and the end of the next set. "Oooooh shit..." In my mind "we're committed jim." About 1/2 way throughthe first lane "Hope er ready ta see Montana tonight! DeeBee Cooper style!!" and began waving my arms "Hope they see the dumbass inthe road." As i finished the sententence the car in the final lane spoted me "Your damn lucky jim" and was allowed across. The food was fit for a bbilly goat "When in Rome" The waitresses were as hot as fresh buffalo chips. Getting back to my nest, i swore i was going to the cross walk at the light. About twenty feet into that journey "All hope is lost!" That walk probibly would have taken me in my conditiontill 2 or 3 in the morning. Once agian "Fuck the dumb shit!!" This time i made it across with the stealth of a crack head and was alowed safe passage.
]
My Endurance levels, i dont belive had ever been pushed as they had been. Like off a fucking cliff. Recovery was so little to nonexistant. Even with my new non alcohol diet. The Marlboros were a killer. When i took a drag it was as if the smoke bypassed my lungs entirely and went strate to my muscles particularly my legs. It would feel like some sort hardner was being pumped into my muscles. Being up in Spokane alone dealing with what seemed to be..My existance being erased? Quiting smoking had crossed my mind and mind was like "Hell no!!" no booze, no drugs besides the ibuprofin. No other way to deal with the anxity? No we were gonna be stupid and smoke.
Going down the stairs the next morning was the best i would do the whole time there. On the drive in, agian the visuals were spookey, just had to sit there and "trip" alone. Ibuprofin 800 and the Sysco blend coffee was breakfast. Rockstar and an apple for second breakfast, anything that could instill anykind of refined, focused energy. Legal, illegal i really could not have cared. Although i stumbled upon at lunch one day, Subway gave me a boost. It was so noticable that i insisted Subway at lunch everyday.
Funny enough there was'nt much climbing to be done. On those days i was sent with one hell of a groundman. Mike. On days i did'nt climb i was put on the boom truck with another great individual. Scott Topp. It was Scott that one day while doing a pruning job asked "Hey Chris, whats going on with that club foot you got going there?" "Scott it's like this." Confiding only some, of what was happening to me. "I dont know what the fuck i got! Hey man, what the fuck are richets?" He began laughing his ass off. "Chris i dont think you have to worry about fuckn Richets buddy." "Thank god! that weight's off my shoulders!" laughing along with him. Somehow still a sence of humor. I was gonna need it for the 10,000 dys that lye ahead.
There was one day i climed with Scott as my "RIO" . I mention this only because this was the first/only/last time scott whitnessed my climbing. If Scott had any dbouts he sure did a good job of holding his tounge. We were in a white ash tree that needed to be cut away from the fourth floor back to its collar. The cuts needed to be rigged so as to break nothing. Lucly i hit a decent rigg point for myself and it was a very good thing. Getting my spikes to puch into the hardwood, was "like fuckin Bambi on the ice" i muttered to myself catpawing my way up the latteral. We still got the work completed relitively quiickly, with absolutely nothing left. Well, i was able to lean on my tool (rake).
As the days wound up, so to did the skys. Nodding off for the ride to my dwelling was nothing butt serious dreaming watching the lights begin there show as blue got darker and darker.
My second night was the only night i went moonlighting alone to the bowling ally/casino/ nasty skeeeeeeezzzah depot across a 4 lane auto-ban that had stop lights about 1/2 mile in eather direction. "Fuck that shit!" i kinda made the decision before i even looked. When i did look, the coast was clear. With a brisk shuffel i started off. About 3/4s the way through my first set of lanes lights began moving and the end of the next set. "Oooooh shit..." In my mind "we're committed jim." About 1/2 way throughthe first lane "Hope er ready ta see Montana tonight! DeeBee Cooper style!!" and began waving my arms "Hope they see the dumbass inthe road." As i finished the sententence the car in the final lane spoted me "Your damn lucky jim" and was allowed across. The food was fit for a bbilly goat "When in Rome" The waitresses were as hot as fresh buffalo chips. Getting back to my nest, i swore i was going to the cross walk at the light. About twenty feet into that journey "All hope is lost!" That walk probibly would have taken me in my conditiontill 2 or 3 in the morning. Once agian "Fuck the dumb shit!!" This time i made it across with the stealth of a crack head and was alowed safe passage.
]
Friday, May 11, 2012
You have made your world mine.....
Once agian i managed to get myself on a plane. This time for Sokane, Washington. 'Your going to Sokane to die Chris!" One of the many things my Wife pleaded/begged/got loud about...almost threatend, bouncing around in my head all flight. OBVIOUSLY, none the less"The only easy day was yesterday" Dumb ass.
My work was slowly beginig to key in on what was up with me. Jason peirce met me at the pick up, jumped out of the truck ran in the airport, grabed my bags for me and loaded them himself. So there was communication between branches about my "Status" yet still chose to let me roll the dice. "They're giving me all the rope i cared to take. Seemed another one of my own princeples was putting me to its test. Recognizing this "I shall finish the game." Time as always, holds the noose,trap door and lever, ooooooooooooor the ability to William Tell yourself trough it all.
It was when we left the airport that a new issue made its first appearence. As we pulled out on the interstate Jay went to merge with trafic. Cars go flyin by as usual but what not usual was the phyicidelic type tracers folowing right behind the traffic. "Is this what they warned me about in school.. A flash back?" Was in my head! All the lights everywhere. The small street lights would not stay stationary, they all seemd to move around or rotate in there own cycle or repitition, not fast, all very slowly. I was totaly aware that Jason was not seeing these things. This was very alarming and truely frightning. If i toid Jayson what i was seeing "Knowing you Chris you got some bad shrooms or Acid or something." And he may have been right, had i not givin that shit up with my youth. This was going to have to stay with me. No dbout, which was terrifying not being able to "debriff" about the "phanaminon." All i could do was observe things that would cause this condition to improve or decline. The one thing i found that worked: Stay out of the dark.
Jay droped me off at my porn set on Skidrow. They put me on the second floor. Yeah, no elevator, i was truly concerned about the stairs. I began to count how many times a day i would use them. "Once for work and back. Once for dinner. Smokes? Fuck, there's no tellin." The stair wells were concrete, no carpet, no tackey sandy paint, nothin. Whith the chance encounterwith a junky a ladie of the night or a fuckin Troll. If i took a Humpty Dumpty, there's no tellin my fate.
.....
My work was slowly beginig to key in on what was up with me. Jason peirce met me at the pick up, jumped out of the truck ran in the airport, grabed my bags for me and loaded them himself. So there was communication between branches about my "Status" yet still chose to let me roll the dice. "They're giving me all the rope i cared to take. Seemed another one of my own princeples was putting me to its test. Recognizing this "I shall finish the game." Time as always, holds the noose,trap door and lever, ooooooooooooor the ability to William Tell yourself trough it all.
It was when we left the airport that a new issue made its first appearence. As we pulled out on the interstate Jay went to merge with trafic. Cars go flyin by as usual but what not usual was the phyicidelic type tracers folowing right behind the traffic. "Is this what they warned me about in school.. A flash back?" Was in my head! All the lights everywhere. The small street lights would not stay stationary, they all seemd to move around or rotate in there own cycle or repitition, not fast, all very slowly. I was totaly aware that Jason was not seeing these things. This was very alarming and truely frightning. If i toid Jayson what i was seeing "Knowing you Chris you got some bad shrooms or Acid or something." And he may have been right, had i not givin that shit up with my youth. This was going to have to stay with me. No dbout, which was terrifying not being able to "debriff" about the "phanaminon." All i could do was observe things that would cause this condition to improve or decline. The one thing i found that worked: Stay out of the dark.
Jay droped me off at my porn set on Skidrow. They put me on the second floor. Yeah, no elevator, i was truly concerned about the stairs. I began to count how many times a day i would use them. "Once for work and back. Once for dinner. Smokes? Fuck, there's no tellin." The stair wells were concrete, no carpet, no tackey sandy paint, nothin. Whith the chance encounterwith a junky a ladie of the night or a fuckin Troll. If i took a Humpty Dumpty, there's no tellin my fate.
.....
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
I've #8 (Big Whisky Chronicols Pt II
Late spring 2004 Kill Devil Hills
With certanty i knew i did'nt want to work for anyone with the name "Outlaw"unless its me ofcourse. Thats what the secratery or whoever answerd the phone for the full page full color add that had advertised "Dominating the OuterBanx" refered to the owner as. Giving me another number for his cell phone. Dialing this numeber, i was convincing myself i had'nt herd "Outlaw" "Musta been hearing shit. "Hello" in that colonial southern voice. Sounded like a kid. Being careful not to say the name "Yes sir, my name isChris Reid, i just relocated here from Salt Lake City. I am a climber and was told your the person to talk to about tree work." So stoked is how i felt when he told me to "Come on out. You know where Wan-cheese is?" Thats when i just knew "This shits no good man...." This is one thing Levi warned me about "Dont go to Wan cheese unless you felt like geting in trouble and under no cicumstances "Chris, never call someone from wan cheese a Wan Cheeser unless you feel like gettin fucked up." But it was a possible job which i reasoned was "Money" As all i had left after my first night out was 250.00 bucks to my name, no job, the nearest family i had was in Georga. The lawn care compaaany i had spoken to in the 17th street parking lot gave me the number to "Family tree" but they were not hireing. They,in turn gave me another name and number "Atlantic Tree, i think he hurt his back from what i understand, i think he's looking for some help." She gave me the number, i thanked her as we hung up. I called the number i was givin only to get an answering machine. "Shit dude you dont beleve in workin in the cool temps of the mornin?", after that is when i began my search through the phone book, and thats when i saw the full page add that had bad "juju" in just fliping to the add. Got dressed grabd a copy of my resume and began to walk out the door when the phone rang "Please be Atlantic Tree. Hello..." It was a womans voice...i thought so anyway...." Yeah Reid!!?" "This is" super loud interuption "Hold on!! Morgaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!!!!" Had to pull my ear away from the phone. "Yeah Reid!? Yes this is Chris" "Yeah you start tomarrow, bring your Saddle and be here at eight." "Um, i was kinda wonering about this other company?...."They may have that boom truck an a bunch a fancy paint but thats awll they got!! What, ya talk to Outlaw already!?" " Yeah, and they want me to meet them in Wan-Cheese." " Well Mr if you value yer life whatsoever, youell stay the hell away from them!!" "Yeah somthing about a dude named Outlaw being a boss of mine just bwasnt sittin well." Then agian something about a crazy woman screaming in the phone i got a job was kinda strange too. But the screamer did say "start tomarrow" And it sure as hell was'nt Wan-Cheese. The beach was litterly 30 seconds from my front door, i had money."Eight o'clock ya say?" " You know where Kittyhawk road is? You get out on the by-pass road, go north. There el be a 7-11 on the leftand the Post Office on the right. Thats Kittyhawk road, turn left." I got waisted the rest of that day.
As if the signs wernt screamen at me the day before, i was being bitch slaped with them the next day. I dont know if it was the stars and bars flyn on the property next door. The Rot-y-ler "Morgan" with the hippo teeth that tryed to eat me. The three groundmen already at the yard when i arived, two of them with a kick ass dental plan and the one sportn the stars and bars in ink on his forarm and bandanna. Perhaps the Giant fucken Lehprican with all the skulls inked on his right sleeve that walked out the house 10 minutes after my pilgamidge. I would recon it was good i wore my shades 24 hours a day, for my eye's would have easly told anyone who could read, would've known i was shiting my pants. Oh dear god, here we go! "Hi im Chris i spoke with your wife yesteerday" Extending my hand, prepairing for a crunch. "Im Mark Fletcher. Im the owner operator of Atlantic Tree." Having mercey on my hand, i thought was a good sign. For a resume, i was just using copys of my Smokejumper resume, after buildinng one of those id be damned if i ever filled out another application agian. He gave it a quick glance fliped the pages.threw it in the house. "Yeah, we'll see where yer at.. lets take a walk down here." As we were pulling down the driveway in the f-700 beast, i just kinda gave him a quickover of my totaly rad tree dude carrier, i was really currious about where the job we were headed to was. When Mr Fletcher pulled out onto Kittyhawk road he went strait accrost onto Woods Rd and went past a sign that read Kittyhawk woods. "Wow" i thought, noticing the trees began to increse in size, the "woods" were just that, super dense and jungle like. I was liken this. We had probibly gone a half mile then we began to slow and took a right.The jungel (woods) just seemed to swallow the truck. A quick veer to right and then to the left. The freshly laid balacktop wwwas to the woods as Moses was to the dead sea. But the blacktop revealed a Better Homes and Gardens wet dream. A Barbee house frm hell.
As we pulled to the back of the huge lot a green pick up in the driveway in gold lettering read John Croner Roofing. "Tree causing roof damage?" I asked investigattingly. The steroid fortifyed"Lucky" jut shook his head and quitely spoke "This is "Elton" John Cronners House." "You mean the guy who owns that truck, owns this?" All bright eyed. I was met with a casual nod and spit into his chaw cup. He parked us at the rear of the property near a line of large Tough sheds. Showing him my Buckingham glide did'nt get the reaction i had thought i would get. Handing the saddel over to him, he held my 280 dollars of totally awsomeness up like it was bought at a lingere store. Talk about shoot'n a climbers "horse" He was also admireing the way i was using a knot in my flip line to lock off with versus the trditional Gibbs that everyother climber with an ounce of sence used. "Uh, Chris, i have, uh, never seen this used like, uh, this." Inquireing about the "unique" configureation and manner in which i was "customized" to Death...literaly. I assured him "This is how i was taught by my last boss." Mark was whearing shades and im possitive i would have seen the "Are you smokin boulders!!!" eyes screamin at me. "I,ll show ya." Thinking i had assured him. He loand me his set of hooks to climb with. While i was gettin my things together so was mark. He had switched out of the tan Wolverine s into a pair of Water Mocasens, a type of anti-snakebite boot laced to just below the knee a Bright orange almost brand new Pacificco kevlar hardhat, he had left the chinstrap hanging. Were it not for his beefcakeness i know i would have laughed my ass off. He looked like an Ostrich Jockey hunting for monkey. The little chubby Jonny Rebeled out Papa Smurff named Jerry pulled up on a fourwheeler "Ye caaan put chaw geeeare own heeere." " "Thanksman." "Owwha." "Jerry, uh, grab a couple of ropes, that shoulddo it. He loaded the racks with gear hoped on and putted away. Mr Fletcher and i began to walk along the rear fence of the backyard to the north east corner of the turff. Mark walked to the base of two southern yellow pines, turned faceing me "Alright,uh, Chris, i want you to bring these two to the earth. Extending his arm with finger up sstrate into the air. My eyes following the general direction, up. OOOOOh mmyyyyyy gooooooddd! thats gotta be at least ahundred feet! Mark continued on "I want everything roped out. "Ok" whatever in the hell that means.h and uh, this houe is bout 4 million dollars jJim, dont hit it. It was 9 am. Who the hells Jim?
By the time i had made it to the top of "tower 1" i did'nt thinki had anything left it was a real good thing he rechanted and let me freefall everything. Not that that saved anytime. Before i begaqn i had shown Mark a new kevlar filled shirt i had ordered from Stihl, it acted as saw chaps for the arm and sholders. "Im gonna need one of these" i said tomyself being Mr safety and all. Mark had checked it out with some intrest. "Cool" i was feeling a little confidence building with his curiosity "You gonna whear that?" "Yeah" "Hmmm" Now i understood what fuckn "Hmmm" ment. Heat was my element "I was born of fire and ice!!" All cocky as hell. But when i had cut off the HUGE 3 foot top i could no longer hold my chainsaw up. Glancing over at "Tower #2" and then down the "Hundred foot" trunk seeing "Baboon tamer" and now a fullbrimed hard hatted "Jonny rebel Papa smurf known as Jerry, both with there arms foldedas if i was the days entertainment. "Theres no way in hell im climbing up there too. Im setting my blue over there and swinging over there"( Such a smart guy i was.) "I need a polesaw with two sticks!!!" "Hey, uh Chris!! Igave em my attention "I need you to take ,uh,fifteen foot of that pole!!" Giveing a nod of the order,an awwfuuuck moan came upon me. I still set my line tied my "Blake's" sent down my polesaw and began my decent through all the staabs i had left behind "What a pain in the ass" The lessons to be learned from my first time in the "big Wood" were innumerable looking back, that if someone would have pointed out all the stupid shit i was doing i probibly would have found a new profestion. I took off all the staabs and the 15' Baboon tamer required, in one foot rounds. Everytime i threw down a round, the Tamer would yell up "Bigger!!" I would look down and see him say "Something??-cut!!" Not having the slightest clue what he was saying i would just continue on.till he got his 15' and then swung over to tower #2. Much quicker going than tower #1, still i left a trail of staabs unable to understand the error of my ways. I got to the top hacked off the trophy, took a breather(smoke), looked down and saw a third face who was also experenceing the show."Must be John Cronner, i must addmit he does look alot like Elton. You fuckers enjoyn yourselfs? So now i untie to work my way back through yet another gauntlet of staabs for the second time unprotechted, this time inexcusably so. I get down to the same higth as tower #1. Just as i had killed the 200T and felt a tug on my hip, looked down to see the grey fullbrim and smurff bootie's scampering away. I drew my blue up untill the splice with the white line in it made it to me. Papa smurffs down there yelling and giving me some signs. I could'nt help but start grin and kakel. Right about then Mark yells out "Jerry!!! what in the hell are you doin!?" You could see Mark had put em in check buy the way Jerrys head started bobin and a scowell back at Mark. I reached for my figure8 the white line was secured to the trunk. "What the fuck!?"there was no figure8 anywhere on my saddel. I thought i was gonna be macgyver and use the tail of my blue with a blakes hitch. This was a very rude and embarassing way to find out i was using a double rope technique on a single rope. So i gaff out and slid around 25 feet before i let go of the hitch. the knot scinched down so hard i swore the almighty himself was'nt gonna crack the knot. 20 more minutes i had to dangel there trying to aleveate weight to losten the bind the hitch had on the rope. Finely, i took another 25 foot plunge and the same thing happend. This time 5 feet off the hard deck. Lucky for me Mark and Jerry were prepaired to handel getting me off line from that point cause there was no life left in me. All at once i threw up and bout blacked out from the heat. "Welcome to the south Jim! My watch read 1 pm
With certanty i knew i did'nt want to work for anyone with the name "Outlaw"unless its me ofcourse. Thats what the secratery or whoever answerd the phone for the full page full color add that had advertised "Dominating the OuterBanx" refered to the owner as. Giving me another number for his cell phone. Dialing this numeber, i was convincing myself i had'nt herd "Outlaw" "Musta been hearing shit. "Hello" in that colonial southern voice. Sounded like a kid. Being careful not to say the name "Yes sir, my name isChris Reid, i just relocated here from Salt Lake City. I am a climber and was told your the person to talk to about tree work." So stoked is how i felt when he told me to "Come on out. You know where Wan-cheese is?" Thats when i just knew "This shits no good man...." This is one thing Levi warned me about "Dont go to Wan cheese unless you felt like geting in trouble and under no cicumstances "Chris, never call someone from wan cheese a Wan Cheeser unless you feel like gettin fucked up." But it was a possible job which i reasoned was "Money" As all i had left after my first night out was 250.00 bucks to my name, no job, the nearest family i had was in Georga. The lawn care compaaany i had spoken to in the 17th street parking lot gave me the number to "Family tree" but they were not hireing. They,in turn gave me another name and number "Atlantic Tree, i think he hurt his back from what i understand, i think he's looking for some help." She gave me the number, i thanked her as we hung up. I called the number i was givin only to get an answering machine. "Shit dude you dont beleve in workin in the cool temps of the mornin?", after that is when i began my search through the phone book, and thats when i saw the full page add that had bad "juju" in just fliping to the add. Got dressed grabd a copy of my resume and began to walk out the door when the phone rang "Please be Atlantic Tree. Hello..." It was a womans voice...i thought so anyway...." Yeah Reid!!?" "This is" super loud interuption "Hold on!! Morgaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!!!!" Had to pull my ear away from the phone. "Yeah Reid!? Yes this is Chris" "Yeah you start tomarrow, bring your Saddle and be here at eight." "Um, i was kinda wonering about this other company?...."They may have that boom truck an a bunch a fancy paint but thats awll they got!! What, ya talk to Outlaw already!?" " Yeah, and they want me to meet them in Wan-Cheese." " Well Mr if you value yer life whatsoever, youell stay the hell away from them!!" "Yeah somthing about a dude named Outlaw being a boss of mine just bwasnt sittin well." Then agian something about a crazy woman screaming in the phone i got a job was kinda strange too. But the screamer did say "start tomarrow" And it sure as hell was'nt Wan-Cheese. The beach was litterly 30 seconds from my front door, i had money."Eight o'clock ya say?" " You know where Kittyhawk road is? You get out on the by-pass road, go north. There el be a 7-11 on the leftand the Post Office on the right. Thats Kittyhawk road, turn left." I got waisted the rest of that day.
As if the signs wernt screamen at me the day before, i was being bitch slaped with them the next day. I dont know if it was the stars and bars flyn on the property next door. The Rot-y-ler "Morgan" with the hippo teeth that tryed to eat me. The three groundmen already at the yard when i arived, two of them with a kick ass dental plan and the one sportn the stars and bars in ink on his forarm and bandanna. Perhaps the Giant fucken Lehprican with all the skulls inked on his right sleeve that walked out the house 10 minutes after my pilgamidge. I would recon it was good i wore my shades 24 hours a day, for my eye's would have easly told anyone who could read, would've known i was shiting my pants. Oh dear god, here we go! "Hi im Chris i spoke with your wife yesteerday" Extending my hand, prepairing for a crunch. "Im Mark Fletcher. Im the owner operator of Atlantic Tree." Having mercey on my hand, i thought was a good sign. For a resume, i was just using copys of my Smokejumper resume, after buildinng one of those id be damned if i ever filled out another application agian. He gave it a quick glance fliped the pages.threw it in the house. "Yeah, we'll see where yer at.. lets take a walk down here." As we were pulling down the driveway in the f-700 beast, i just kinda gave him a quickover of my totaly rad tree dude carrier, i was really currious about where the job we were headed to was. When Mr Fletcher pulled out onto Kittyhawk road he went strait accrost onto Woods Rd and went past a sign that read Kittyhawk woods. "Wow" i thought, noticing the trees began to increse in size, the "woods" were just that, super dense and jungle like. I was liken this. We had probibly gone a half mile then we began to slow and took a right.The jungel (woods) just seemed to swallow the truck. A quick veer to right and then to the left. The freshly laid balacktop wwwas to the woods as Moses was to the dead sea. But the blacktop revealed a Better Homes and Gardens wet dream. A Barbee house frm hell.
As we pulled to the back of the huge lot a green pick up in the driveway in gold lettering read John Croner Roofing. "Tree causing roof damage?" I asked investigattingly. The steroid fortifyed"Lucky" jut shook his head and quitely spoke "This is "Elton" John Cronners House." "You mean the guy who owns that truck, owns this?" All bright eyed. I was met with a casual nod and spit into his chaw cup. He parked us at the rear of the property near a line of large Tough sheds. Showing him my Buckingham glide did'nt get the reaction i had thought i would get. Handing the saddel over to him, he held my 280 dollars of totally awsomeness up like it was bought at a lingere store. Talk about shoot'n a climbers "horse" He was also admireing the way i was using a knot in my flip line to lock off with versus the trditional Gibbs that everyother climber with an ounce of sence used. "Uh, Chris, i have, uh, never seen this used like, uh, this." Inquireing about the "unique" configureation and manner in which i was "customized" to Death...literaly. I assured him "This is how i was taught by my last boss." Mark was whearing shades and im possitive i would have seen the "Are you smokin boulders!!!" eyes screamin at me. "I,ll show ya." Thinking i had assured him. He loand me his set of hooks to climb with. While i was gettin my things together so was mark. He had switched out of the tan Wolverine s into a pair of Water Mocasens, a type of anti-snakebite boot laced to just below the knee a Bright orange almost brand new Pacificco kevlar hardhat, he had left the chinstrap hanging. Were it not for his beefcakeness i know i would have laughed my ass off. He looked like an Ostrich Jockey hunting for monkey. The little chubby Jonny Rebeled out Papa Smurff named Jerry pulled up on a fourwheeler "Ye caaan put chaw geeeare own heeere." " "Thanksman." "Owwha." "Jerry, uh, grab a couple of ropes, that shoulddo it. He loaded the racks with gear hoped on and putted away. Mr Fletcher and i began to walk along the rear fence of the backyard to the north east corner of the turff. Mark walked to the base of two southern yellow pines, turned faceing me "Alright,uh, Chris, i want you to bring these two to the earth. Extending his arm with finger up sstrate into the air. My eyes following the general direction, up. OOOOOh mmyyyyyy gooooooddd! thats gotta be at least ahundred feet! Mark continued on "I want everything roped out. "Ok" whatever in the hell that means.h and uh, this houe is bout 4 million dollars jJim, dont hit it. It was 9 am. Who the hells Jim?
By the time i had made it to the top of "tower 1" i did'nt thinki had anything left it was a real good thing he rechanted and let me freefall everything. Not that that saved anytime. Before i begaqn i had shown Mark a new kevlar filled shirt i had ordered from Stihl, it acted as saw chaps for the arm and sholders. "Im gonna need one of these" i said tomyself being Mr safety and all. Mark had checked it out with some intrest. "Cool" i was feeling a little confidence building with his curiosity "You gonna whear that?" "Yeah" "Hmmm" Now i understood what fuckn "Hmmm" ment. Heat was my element "I was born of fire and ice!!" All cocky as hell. But when i had cut off the HUGE 3 foot top i could no longer hold my chainsaw up. Glancing over at "Tower #2" and then down the "Hundred foot" trunk seeing "Baboon tamer" and now a fullbrimed hard hatted "Jonny rebel Papa smurf known as Jerry, both with there arms foldedas if i was the days entertainment. "Theres no way in hell im climbing up there too. Im setting my blue over there and swinging over there"( Such a smart guy i was.) "I need a polesaw with two sticks!!!" "Hey, uh Chris!! Igave em my attention "I need you to take ,uh,fifteen foot of that pole!!" Giveing a nod of the order,an awwfuuuck moan came upon me. I still set my line tied my "Blake's" sent down my polesaw and began my decent through all the staabs i had left behind "What a pain in the ass" The lessons to be learned from my first time in the "big Wood" were innumerable looking back, that if someone would have pointed out all the stupid shit i was doing i probibly would have found a new profestion. I took off all the staabs and the 15' Baboon tamer required, in one foot rounds. Everytime i threw down a round, the Tamer would yell up "Bigger!!" I would look down and see him say "Something??-cut!!" Not having the slightest clue what he was saying i would just continue on.till he got his 15' and then swung over to tower #2. Much quicker going than tower #1, still i left a trail of staabs unable to understand the error of my ways. I got to the top hacked off the trophy, took a breather(smoke), looked down and saw a third face who was also experenceing the show."Must be John Cronner, i must addmit he does look alot like Elton. You fuckers enjoyn yourselfs? So now i untie to work my way back through yet another gauntlet of staabs for the second time unprotechted, this time inexcusably so. I get down to the same higth as tower #1. Just as i had killed the 200T and felt a tug on my hip, looked down to see the grey fullbrim and smurff bootie's scampering away. I drew my blue up untill the splice with the white line in it made it to me. Papa smurffs down there yelling and giving me some signs. I could'nt help but start grin and kakel. Right about then Mark yells out "Jerry!!! what in the hell are you doin!?" You could see Mark had put em in check buy the way Jerrys head started bobin and a scowell back at Mark. I reached for my figure8 the white line was secured to the trunk. "What the fuck!?"there was no figure8 anywhere on my saddel. I thought i was gonna be macgyver and use the tail of my blue with a blakes hitch. This was a very rude and embarassing way to find out i was using a double rope technique on a single rope. So i gaff out and slid around 25 feet before i let go of the hitch. the knot scinched down so hard i swore the almighty himself was'nt gonna crack the knot. 20 more minutes i had to dangel there trying to aleveate weight to losten the bind the hitch had on the rope. Finely, i took another 25 foot plunge and the same thing happend. This time 5 feet off the hard deck. Lucky for me Mark and Jerry were prepaired to handel getting me off line from that point cause there was no life left in me. All at once i threw up and bout blacked out from the heat. "Welcome to the south Jim! My watch read 1 pm
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