September of 1998 I was aboard the USS Kitty Hawk. We had just moved everything from the USS Independence onto the shitty kitty in Pearl Harbor. In transit back to Yokohama Japan, I got nicknamed "kneeknocker." Not because of my massive penis, but because I tripped.
On the new ship, we still had watertight hatches but they had installed normal looking doorways on the inside of some of those hatches. I got sent to pick up parts from AIMD and they had one of those doorways. Jake Larsen or "Gabby" and I went down and grabbed some radar parts...I grabbed a synchronizer and headed out the door back to the shop. I forgot about the hatchway (kneeknocker) and tried walking through the door without stepping over the kneeknocker.....face planted onto the synchronizer. It nearly knocked me out and Jake kept asking if I was alright. Some prick from AIMD was laughing about it and I wanted to throw that 60 lbs. synchronizer through his face.
I knocked out a few teeth and had a hell of a knot on my jaw and a big swollen lip. For several months people called me "kneeknocker" because I made a stupid mistake. Now it's funny, but I didn't see the humor in it for years.
10/29/16
10/22/16
The Ability to Care
For the record, I don't have evil thoughts toward hardly anyone. Mostly just those who intend harm for others or intentionally want to ruin lives.
I enjoy teaching people things that can make their lives better. It's fun to watch people benefit from it. Several friends are much better off because I took the time and effort to share some knowledge.
The last 5 years, I've understood why some become "sick and tired of being sick and tired!" That's how I feel. When everything goes to shit, no matter how hard you try, it becomes pointless. It didn't matter how much I tried, I couldn't save my Dad. Mom is also in a terrible predicament, she hates life and would rather it ended. She doesn't want to be in pain anymore and I completely understand. I won't help her end her life.
I have become uncaring about losing relationships that matter, being responsible or whether my decisions affected those around me. I've become careless because it doesn't matter anymore. I can't fix everything. I have lost the ability to care.
I enjoy teaching people things that can make their lives better. It's fun to watch people benefit from it. Several friends are much better off because I took the time and effort to share some knowledge.
The last 5 years, I've understood why some become "sick and tired of being sick and tired!" That's how I feel. When everything goes to shit, no matter how hard you try, it becomes pointless. It didn't matter how much I tried, I couldn't save my Dad. Mom is also in a terrible predicament, she hates life and would rather it ended. She doesn't want to be in pain anymore and I completely understand. I won't help her end her life.
I have become uncaring about losing relationships that matter, being responsible or whether my decisions affected those around me. I've become careless because it doesn't matter anymore. I can't fix everything. I have lost the ability to care.
10/18/16
Really? Really!
Right out of boot camp(1996) I went to Naval Air Technical Training Center, NATTC in Pensacola FL. We prepared for a visit from the Chief of Naval Operations, CNO, highest ranking official in the Navy.
We scrubbed our barracks top to bottom like he was going to inspect our rooms or something. Everything was in ship shape. His entourage arrived and had us ready and in formation for his arrival. I was a barracks section leader and required to greet him. All my training had me prepared...I was set to make a good impression. Admiral Johnson arrived and he casually reached into his pocket of his trousers. After a few seconds, I said, "We keep our hands out of our pockets shipmate." Pissed him off immediately! His eyebrows dropped and he stormed through the doors of the barracks and went straight through never even glancing at our barracks. He never said a word.
I got chewed out for about an hour, but I was right because I was told to correct anyone not following the rules. "You don't call the CNO shipmate when you've never even been aboard a ship and you damn sure don't correct him!" Sorry, that's how you trained me.
I pissed off the highest in command in the Navy and basically, I got away with it. Admiral Jay L. Johnson...mad at me for a minute but I'll never forget his face the only time I ever spoke to him. At the time I didn't think it was ballsy....but I'm proud that I did it now.
We scrubbed our barracks top to bottom like he was going to inspect our rooms or something. Everything was in ship shape. His entourage arrived and had us ready and in formation for his arrival. I was a barracks section leader and required to greet him. All my training had me prepared...I was set to make a good impression. Admiral Johnson arrived and he casually reached into his pocket of his trousers. After a few seconds, I said, "We keep our hands out of our pockets shipmate." Pissed him off immediately! His eyebrows dropped and he stormed through the doors of the barracks and went straight through never even glancing at our barracks. He never said a word.
I got chewed out for about an hour, but I was right because I was told to correct anyone not following the rules. "You don't call the CNO shipmate when you've never even been aboard a ship and you damn sure don't correct him!" Sorry, that's how you trained me.
I pissed off the highest in command in the Navy and basically, I got away with it. Admiral Jay L. Johnson...mad at me for a minute but I'll never forget his face the only time I ever spoke to him. At the time I didn't think it was ballsy....but I'm proud that I did it now.
10/16/16
The Not-So Beautiful Broken Brain
Dec 2, 2014 I found Mom in the floor of her barn. I thought she had only fallen down but she was having a stroke. The next morning she was having brain surgery. She recovered pretty quickly and was nearly back to normal in a couple of months. She was back to driving and doing her thing for several months.
July 12, 2015 She woke Becky in the middle of the night because she knew she was having another stroke. Brain surgery again the following morning and the bleed was almost in the same spot in her brain. This time, it affected her much more.
October of 2016 and Mom still has trouble standing. Her left arm is flaccid. She can't read books anymore. She gets confused easily. She doesn't want to admit it but she has dementia. She is a fall risk at all times. Her voice is now soft and sometimes she can't speak clearly. She believes her dreams are real. She's bitter, depressed and unhappy that she hasn't recovered. She imagines sounds that aren't there and sees things that are only in her head. She's constantly saying that she hears water running. If there are parsley flakes in her food, she's convinced that they are bugs. Her sense of time is way off. She shows improvement when she puts in the effort but then will get angry for a few days and won't do the work she needs to improve...so she regresses quickly. She's her own worst enemy.
Caring for her is a constant battle. She has no patience and believes that we are keeping her mail and affairs from her. The VA declared her incompetent so Becky was appointed her fiduciary to handle her money affairs. She believes that Becky and I are trying to get her money. She wants me to go to the bank and get her cash so she can keep an eye on it. She'll hide it and then can't remember where she put it...so she thinks someone stole it. I won't get her cash anymore. She decided she needs her debit card so she can order Christmas gifts (using her cell) that she sees on television
She gets on her phone and calls people accusing us of abusing her and basically robbing her. I keep trying to get it through to her that she's home where she's loved and we're trying to keep her best interests covered. She's going to get a rude awakening when she has to be at a home where they do take all of her money. Her personal belongings will be swiped all the time and the people caring for her won't really care if she's happy or comfortable. They surely won't try as hard to make her improve.
I've fought the good fight for about as long as I can handle.
July 12, 2015 She woke Becky in the middle of the night because she knew she was having another stroke. Brain surgery again the following morning and the bleed was almost in the same spot in her brain. This time, it affected her much more.
October of 2016 and Mom still has trouble standing. Her left arm is flaccid. She can't read books anymore. She gets confused easily. She doesn't want to admit it but she has dementia. She is a fall risk at all times. Her voice is now soft and sometimes she can't speak clearly. She believes her dreams are real. She's bitter, depressed and unhappy that she hasn't recovered. She imagines sounds that aren't there and sees things that are only in her head. She's constantly saying that she hears water running. If there are parsley flakes in her food, she's convinced that they are bugs. Her sense of time is way off. She shows improvement when she puts in the effort but then will get angry for a few days and won't do the work she needs to improve...so she regresses quickly. She's her own worst enemy.
Caring for her is a constant battle. She has no patience and believes that we are keeping her mail and affairs from her. The VA declared her incompetent so Becky was appointed her fiduciary to handle her money affairs. She believes that Becky and I are trying to get her money. She wants me to go to the bank and get her cash so she can keep an eye on it. She'll hide it and then can't remember where she put it...so she thinks someone stole it. I won't get her cash anymore. She decided she needs her debit card so she can order Christmas gifts (using her cell) that she sees on television
She gets on her phone and calls people accusing us of abusing her and basically robbing her. I keep trying to get it through to her that she's home where she's loved and we're trying to keep her best interests covered. She's going to get a rude awakening when she has to be at a home where they do take all of her money. Her personal belongings will be swiped all the time and the people caring for her won't really care if she's happy or comfortable. They surely won't try as hard to make her improve.
I've fought the good fight for about as long as I can handle.
9/28/16
The Home Health Conundrum
Here's what I've learned about home health care companies. Medicare hires companies that assume some liabilities while a patient is in their care. The process requires supervisors that do evaluations to grade the patient upon entry and re-evaluate to continue care. Therapists just do their job for an hour or less and the progress that's made is graded by the supervisor. Each month evaluations are done to see patient progress. Each evaluation is also counted as a visit or therapy for billing purposes. Here is how it goes.
For each type of therapy, Speech, Occupational or Physical...they each have a supervisor. So your first visit for each is wasted as it's only an evaluation. Nursing is included too and it's done in the same manner. If you have all four types, eight of your visits for 30 days are totally wasted on evaluations. If they only recommend 14 visits, you get a total of 6, one hour therapy visits. How will 6 hours of therapy per month help? It doesn't...it's a scam!
It's a whole bunch of bullshit for very little benefit, but the companies get paid. It's a waste of time and money and we should be able to hire therapists directly without all the crap that comes along with it.
Home health companies are money makers because patients can't get enough care to improve. They're all basically the same locally because the therapists are contractors. None are organized and they can't communicate with each other or keep schedules. It's a mess and I'm disgusted with them all.
For each type of therapy, Speech, Occupational or Physical...they each have a supervisor. So your first visit for each is wasted as it's only an evaluation. Nursing is included too and it's done in the same manner. If you have all four types, eight of your visits for 30 days are totally wasted on evaluations. If they only recommend 14 visits, you get a total of 6, one hour therapy visits. How will 6 hours of therapy per month help? It doesn't...it's a scam!
It's a whole bunch of bullshit for very little benefit, but the companies get paid. It's a waste of time and money and we should be able to hire therapists directly without all the crap that comes along with it.
Home health companies are money makers because patients can't get enough care to improve. They're all basically the same locally because the therapists are contractors. None are organized and they can't communicate with each other or keep schedules. It's a mess and I'm disgusted with them all.
9/25/16
Taking Care of Business
As a kid, my mother didn't want us to speak to her until 10 am. She would smack us in the mouth if we did it. Before I could even tell time, I would ask if it was 10 yet. I got smacked a lot.
In seventh grade, 1st period at school, I got sent to the office for corporal punishment, Going to get licks, another name for spanked. I was wrongly accused, so I refused...and said "call my Mom!" This was about 7:45 and I knew she wasn't going to listen to anyone before 10. I called her and said I was going to get a whooping and didn't deserve it.
She didn't even bother to get dressed. She showed up at the school about 15 minutes later in a robe and her nightgown, mad as hell! She asked me what was happening and I told her I wasn't taking a whipping for doing nothing. She chewed out everyone within earshot and yanked me up and took me home.
I still got an ass whipping, from her....but for a rule that I knew and understood. Don't speak to her before 10 am!
*NOTE: My sister corrected me, so I changed the time from 9 to 10.
In seventh grade, 1st period at school, I got sent to the office for corporal punishment, Going to get licks, another name for spanked. I was wrongly accused, so I refused...and said "call my Mom!" This was about 7:45 and I knew she wasn't going to listen to anyone before 10. I called her and said I was going to get a whooping and didn't deserve it.
She didn't even bother to get dressed. She showed up at the school about 15 minutes later in a robe and her nightgown, mad as hell! She asked me what was happening and I told her I wasn't taking a whipping for doing nothing. She chewed out everyone within earshot and yanked me up and took me home.
I still got an ass whipping, from her....but for a rule that I knew and understood. Don't speak to her before 10 am!
*NOTE: My sister corrected me, so I changed the time from 9 to 10.
8/27/16
Scrapping
In my neck of the woods, fighting was called scrapping. It wasn't a major ordeal, usually just a short physical confrontation. Sometimes you got your ass kicked, sometimes you didn't. If you scrapped, usually you could count on hurting for a few days anyway...win or lose.
I've scrapped a lot. I've been thrown around like a rag doll by people twice as big as me. That always sucks! I've never fought with a smaller person than me but I'm pretty sure I would knock them out. Dudes my size almost always lost due to my aggressiveness. Shawn Jackson was the exception. He was lightning quick and beat the hell outta me until I struck. That was my saving grace, I had power.
Just starting school as freshmen, my friend Aric and I were hanging out by the gym. He called a big younger guy "Kojak" because he hardly had any hair at the time. Kojak was a guy named Jim that later became a good friend of mine. Kojak grabs up Aric from behind and bearhugs him until Aric has lost nearly all his breath. So Aric says to me...Hit him, hit him! I swung...and Kojak put Aric between us in a flash. BANG....I knocked the crap outta Aric! He went limp and Kojak laughed his ass off. Aric returned the favor a few weeks later at a football game and I don't even remember why we scrapped, but he jacked my jaw. He cracked me pretty dang good, made my jaw sore for a few days. Karma!
Scrapping always hurts, even when you win the fight. It'll bust up your knuckles or wrist (or elbows or knees) beating somebody down. It isn't the most intelligent thing to do, but it was a way of life for many of my friends. We scrapped and survived.
I've scrapped a lot. I've been thrown around like a rag doll by people twice as big as me. That always sucks! I've never fought with a smaller person than me but I'm pretty sure I would knock them out. Dudes my size almost always lost due to my aggressiveness. Shawn Jackson was the exception. He was lightning quick and beat the hell outta me until I struck. That was my saving grace, I had power.
Just starting school as freshmen, my friend Aric and I were hanging out by the gym. He called a big younger guy "Kojak" because he hardly had any hair at the time. Kojak was a guy named Jim that later became a good friend of mine. Kojak grabs up Aric from behind and bearhugs him until Aric has lost nearly all his breath. So Aric says to me...Hit him, hit him! I swung...and Kojak put Aric between us in a flash. BANG....I knocked the crap outta Aric! He went limp and Kojak laughed his ass off. Aric returned the favor a few weeks later at a football game and I don't even remember why we scrapped, but he jacked my jaw. He cracked me pretty dang good, made my jaw sore for a few days. Karma!
Scrapping always hurts, even when you win the fight. It'll bust up your knuckles or wrist (or elbows or knees) beating somebody down. It isn't the most intelligent thing to do, but it was a way of life for many of my friends. We scrapped and survived.
5/25/16
Life Lessons
So you want to be a drug addict? Go ahead, take that crap until you die a miserable death. Meth-heads, heroin and cocaine addicts, obviously you don't enjoy life...so die. Try not to steal from people who enjoy life, it's not their responsibility to pay for your fun filled demise. If you can't contribute to anyone else because you only care to get high, fuck you...die! Take as much as you can and get really high.
IV drug users are only a small portion of the addicts. The real problem is the morons that abuse prescription drugs. Some doctors would give prescriptions to some people with minor complaints. I've known people who always had a bottle full of strong pain killers that they used for recreation. Some doctors handed them out like candy to patients and that ruined things for everyone else. Now doctors can't give you relief even when they know you need it.
It's never been simple for me to go to a doctor and get pain killers. Toothaches were sometimes terribly painful and dentists could prescribe some temporary relief. They've been reluctant most of my life though, usually telling me to take Tylenol. After all, they don't want me to become addicted! Mostly, if I paid to see a physician, I needed help or I wouldn't go. I'm thankful that I had physicians that cared enough to actually give relief without starting an addiction.
As a young man, I took some drugs for recreation. I've never used a needle, I never liked shots. I tried just about everything you can drink, smoke, snort or just inhale for the almighty buzz. I've been strung out on cocaine and threw away everything I loved. It made me a liar and a cheat. I wish I still had the money I've wasted getting high throughout my life. I've been really stupid and would have abused pain killers if I had been given easy access to them.
Getting old is painful. Not just the inability to do anything you want, but old injuries and abuse of your body takes its toll as well. I've been rough on my body thinking that I was invincible. Now, I feel all those times that I raced motocross, physical fights and trying to impress someone else by showing how "tough" I could be. I've made it difficult for myself because now I'm in constant pain. It never stops, even while sleeping. Nobody to blame but myself.
Near the end of his life, Dad crushed his shoulder in a fall. His doctor would only give him Ibuprofen because he didn't want him to become addicted. Dad lived in misery until they put him in the hospital for his final stay. It pissed me off to watch him suffer when we were fairly sure he wasn't going to live much longer. Addiction certainly wasn't his problem. He didn't want to die either, he wanted to stay on life support for two more years so that his family would get benefits from the VA. Taking care of us was his whole life goal, that was admirable but his body gave out before he was ready to go.
Today, Dad's doctor is now my doctor. I'm puzzled why she believes that only prescribing medicine that is available over the counter is helpful at all. Last year, I was given Tramadol, I was told that it wasn't addictive and it actually worked for me. I took one per day until they were gone and it didn't give me a buzz, it just made my pain tolerable. The doc told me this afternoon that tramadol was addictive and it was now classified the same as hydrocodone. It doesn't give you a buzz or make you less funtional..wtf?? When they prescribe medicine that is available over the counter in lower doses it creates another problem. People will try to get relief and take much more in an effort to feel better. One pill per day beats taking large doses of ibuprofen, acetaminophen or naproxen.
Drug addicts make life difficult for everyone else. When a doctor cannot give you relief from pain, you can thank a drug addict. Got a cold and need some Sudafed? We can't have that because they can make meth out of it. Cannabis? It gets you high....nevermind that it's a plant that relieves many ailments or that nobody has ever overdosed on it. I've never seen a marijuana addict, known some users that weren't happy when they couldn't get some, but they didn't go through withdrawal symptoms. I would rather be around a pot smoker than a pill popping addict any day.
"Getting a buzz" isn't a big deal to me now. It isn't a thrill anymore. Getting older, realizing that intoxication wastes valuable time that could be used to make life more enjoyable is a life lesson that people must experience before they believe it. Don't waste your life, it isn't worth it.
IV drug users are only a small portion of the addicts. The real problem is the morons that abuse prescription drugs. Some doctors would give prescriptions to some people with minor complaints. I've known people who always had a bottle full of strong pain killers that they used for recreation. Some doctors handed them out like candy to patients and that ruined things for everyone else. Now doctors can't give you relief even when they know you need it.
It's never been simple for me to go to a doctor and get pain killers. Toothaches were sometimes terribly painful and dentists could prescribe some temporary relief. They've been reluctant most of my life though, usually telling me to take Tylenol. After all, they don't want me to become addicted! Mostly, if I paid to see a physician, I needed help or I wouldn't go. I'm thankful that I had physicians that cared enough to actually give relief without starting an addiction.
As a young man, I took some drugs for recreation. I've never used a needle, I never liked shots. I tried just about everything you can drink, smoke, snort or just inhale for the almighty buzz. I've been strung out on cocaine and threw away everything I loved. It made me a liar and a cheat. I wish I still had the money I've wasted getting high throughout my life. I've been really stupid and would have abused pain killers if I had been given easy access to them.
Getting old is painful. Not just the inability to do anything you want, but old injuries and abuse of your body takes its toll as well. I've been rough on my body thinking that I was invincible. Now, I feel all those times that I raced motocross, physical fights and trying to impress someone else by showing how "tough" I could be. I've made it difficult for myself because now I'm in constant pain. It never stops, even while sleeping. Nobody to blame but myself.
Near the end of his life, Dad crushed his shoulder in a fall. His doctor would only give him Ibuprofen because he didn't want him to become addicted. Dad lived in misery until they put him in the hospital for his final stay. It pissed me off to watch him suffer when we were fairly sure he wasn't going to live much longer. Addiction certainly wasn't his problem. He didn't want to die either, he wanted to stay on life support for two more years so that his family would get benefits from the VA. Taking care of us was his whole life goal, that was admirable but his body gave out before he was ready to go.
Today, Dad's doctor is now my doctor. I'm puzzled why she believes that only prescribing medicine that is available over the counter is helpful at all. Last year, I was given Tramadol, I was told that it wasn't addictive and it actually worked for me. I took one per day until they were gone and it didn't give me a buzz, it just made my pain tolerable. The doc told me this afternoon that tramadol was addictive and it was now classified the same as hydrocodone. It doesn't give you a buzz or make you less funtional..wtf?? When they prescribe medicine that is available over the counter in lower doses it creates another problem. People will try to get relief and take much more in an effort to feel better. One pill per day beats taking large doses of ibuprofen, acetaminophen or naproxen.
Drug addicts make life difficult for everyone else. When a doctor cannot give you relief from pain, you can thank a drug addict. Got a cold and need some Sudafed? We can't have that because they can make meth out of it. Cannabis? It gets you high....nevermind that it's a plant that relieves many ailments or that nobody has ever overdosed on it. I've never seen a marijuana addict, known some users that weren't happy when they couldn't get some, but they didn't go through withdrawal symptoms. I would rather be around a pot smoker than a pill popping addict any day.
"Getting a buzz" isn't a big deal to me now. It isn't a thrill anymore. Getting older, realizing that intoxication wastes valuable time that could be used to make life more enjoyable is a life lesson that people must experience before they believe it. Don't waste your life, it isn't worth it.
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