Author: theinvolvedhusband

Circle of Pain – A Journal

The following words are not mine. They are taken from the journal of a dear friend who has given permission to share. These heartbreaking journal entries were made as she traveled a road filled with  pain and love, supporting her sister through a battle with addiction. It is an unfiltered  glimpse into the hope and anguish that comes from watching a family member struggle. It is also a testament to a sisters love.

 Thank you for sharing Toni – TIH

 

I write this so people know I am a big sister. So they know love. So they know me, and they know Patti. That she was here, and that she was damaged by someone and that she got lost in trying to forget it. But most of all…. She was loved beyond words.

Waiting…

Jan, 2011

I held your hand today.

Your soft skin is so warm. Hot even. I wonder about the fight inside your body; the war that is waging. Will you win?

________________

Dad came to see you today, Kiddo.

We all take turns because we can only have two in your ICU room at a time. Margo and I waited outside for our turn. He came out crying. First time ever I can remember ever seeing him cry. It disturbed me; he’s not supposed to cry. He’s the strong one.
________________

I prayed for you today.

I prayed so hard it hurt. I prayed like I believed it could make a difference. I used to hope God existed when you were lost. I cried and told Him how scared I am. I wonder if He heard me and if He hears the prayers of all the others who have sent out prayers for you. There are so many prayers being sent on your behalf. You will be in awe when you see all the well wishes. You are loved.
________________

I brushed your hair today.

You have the most beautiful hair. Thick and healthy now, like Margo’s. I remember dying it for you a few weeks ago because your silly arm makes it so difficult to do by yourself. I remember feeling put out when you asked me to do it, but then we had so much fun the night we did it I forgot what a pain in the neck you can be. If I sit back and listen to my heart I can hear your laughter.
________________

I braided your hair today.

It was such a mess. Your nurse said when you came in she took out the clip that kept your red locks so pretty. I made it pretty for you again. I remember missing you and your friendship. I’m so glad we have you back. I had lost you for so many years to the vices that held you captive. When you came home it was like a rebirth. I will never forget the happiness it gave to all of us to have you at family get-togethers again. Normal. Twenty years is a long time to have a part of the ‘whole’ missing.

Get better.

I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

I painted your toenails today.

While you slept; one of your favourite colors. It’s a sparkly orange. As I painted I remembered days of our childhood when we laughed and giggled and talked about boys. When we painted our toes together. I lost a tear this time, no giggles. Margo came to help me, but she couldn’t do it. She just cried. I don’t blame her, this is tough. I know you would do this for me. Your nurse looked at me with a funny expression when I left and said she didn’t think her sister would have done that for her. I guess she and her sister aren’t very close.
________________

I left you laying there today.

Tubes and machines keeping you here, you’re breathing. You’re just sleeping right? I don’t want to leave you alone there with nobody holding your hand. I drive home after sitting with Margo for an hour or so. We don’t talk about you. I’m scared and lonely. Funny how a person never truly appreciates what’s in their lives until it threatens to leave.
________________

I texted you today.

I was looking for a phone number when I ran across your last text to me before you went in. You were so happy that Billy brought Trucker to see you at the hospital. I guess you left your bed to go see him didn’t you? You love that silly dog so much. It’s probably a little crazy texting your phone kiddo but it’s like a link because I can see what you wrote to me just a few short days ago. You were so thankful that I was able to take care of your dog until Billy got home.

If there’s one thing I can say about you being in my life again it’s how much I appreciate your open and loving nature. No matter what silliness you manage to text or call me about, you never fail to say “I love you sister!”. Or should I say “Seester”, I love that so much kiddo. I want to hear it again too. Please say it again.

Wake up.

I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

Text Message Saturday January 9, 2011 7:17 pm

“Hey Kiddo. It’s Saturday and I just left you in the hospital. I painted your nails and braided your hair. I made you pretty. I’m scared. I love you”

Text Message Saturday January 9, 2011 7:19 pm

“U look so frail hooked up to all those machines. I can’t tell you how hard this is. Dad cried when he came today. We are all so worried Patti.”

Text Message January 9, 2011 7:20 pm

“If you could see your family surrounding you today you would fight so hard to get better. So fight Sissy. Get better so you can wake up and laugh with me again.”

Text Message January 10, 2011 2:49 am

“I’m laying in bed at 2 am. I can’t sleep. I’m staring at the ceiling. All can say is I love you. Hurry up and get better k?”
I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

I was in to see you again today.

I hold your hand and talk like you’re really listening. Like your nurse isn’t hovering and watching all the machines like a hawk. She sits outside your room watching you through the glass. You should feel special, she’s yours and yours alone. You’re in good hands. I know I will find it hard to leave you again when it’s time to go back to my kids and greet their anxious faces with news. Today I want to be able to tell them, “Aunty Patti got a little better today. She responded to the medication.”

Love you so much little sister. Come on back.

I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

Evening January 10, 2011

I gave you a sponge bath today.

You slept so peacefully as I made you clean and I cried. I got good news. Doctor said you were doing better and that they will try to bring you out of the coma to test whether or not they can remove the tubes. I am happy. Soon we will be talking and teasing each other again. We are all waiting anxiously for tomorrow morning. Talk to you tomorrow kiddo. Sleep well. I love you.
________________

January 11, 2011

I got angry at you today.

After the harsh tears from seeing you still hooked up and frail. They tried to wake you up earlier only to have you crash and require sedation again. The ventilator remains. Your lungs are very bad and sensitive he said. Your nurse Rochelle hopes you’ll come out of this. “She is so lucky to have so much love”, she told me as I sat in your room and let tears flow. I held your hand and said ‘I love you’ after my fear and anger subsided. You turned your head towards me and you opened your eyes slightly. I know you heard me little sister. Fight. Fight this thing and come home.

Mom is on her way. I’ll pick her up at the airport at 10 and bring her to your side. Tonight before I come I’ll tuck in the kids and we will pray as a family that you get more fight in you and that God puts angels around you to help you win this. See you soon.
________________

January 12, 2011 12:49 am

I brought Mom to see you today.

She sobbed when she saw you. You don’t look like the same person. Your hands and arms are swollen and your color is just not right. She’s scared and she has every reason to be. They told her the truth tonight. It’s not good. I watched her as she wiped some hairs off of your forehead and talked gentle to you. “Come on kiddo you gotta come out of this…”
I can’t imagine her fear. No parent should ever outlive a child, 4 years old or 40. You will always be her child. Fight Patti. Just fight.
________________

January 13, 2011

No change today.

You need to wake up Patti.
________________

January 14, 2011

I smiled thinking about you today.

I didn’t come in, I’ve opened my new store now. I heard from Mom they weaned you off of two drugs completely. You are processing oxygen all on your own.

I remembered your sweet little face as a child and how fiery you were. Memories flooded me. You were always trouble. I’m wishing it goes as well in the next couple days as it did today. I’m loving you and holding you up in prayer. I miss your stupid texting about nothing and your ridiculous phone calls about what your silly dog just did… I miss you brat. Wake up!

I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

January 15, 2011

Hey! I talked with you today!

Welcome back! You swore at me and you were cranky because you couldn’t get comfortable. I tried to help you but nothing works right now. You told Mom and I that you will never go on the ventilator again. Never. “Never allow them to do this to me again.” You said. We cried together, you told me how much you loved me… that I had no idea how much. Yeah I do, Kiddo. I know. I love you too baby sister. I need you here. I need the ‘whole’. I’m so glad you’re back. There’s still a long road ahead, but I know you’re here to stay now. For another while. Stay till we are old and grey. You, Margo and I will be sitting together pinching the butts of the orderlies waiting on us in the nursing home… I can see it now…

No more painful anxious waiting. No more worry. You’re back. So hurry up, get out.

I’m here.

Waiting.
________________

December 14, 2015

I sent you my book today.

You can’t figure out the kobo. You came into the shop and I put it all on the kobo myself. This way you can read it on the way to Mom’s. You make me laugh so much. I know when you read it you will give me your honest opinion. Bad reviews and all.
________________

December 18, 2015

Hey! I saw you again today.

It doesn’t happen often enough. I know I complain about it to you. I just love you kiddo. You look so happy and healthy today. I gave you your Christmas present early because you will be spending it in BC with Mom this year. I knew that you don’t have any photo albums and I had these ones made up, of you growing up and Trucker. I have another one coming, but it hasn’t arrived yet, it’s of our family, so you could have us with you all the time. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I know they will be cherished. I wish you weren’t always so busy, very busy. But, make time for me soon k?

I’m still here.

Waiting.
________________

December 25, 2015

I talked with you today.

Merry Christmas Sissy. You cried again, about the photo albums. You are so open and honest with your feelings. I’m so glad you are with Mom this year and that she has someone with her for Christmas. She and Don cherish the time you get to be there. Thank you for telling me they liked their photo albums too. More tears are not a bad thing. I hope you can spare some time when you get home. I’d like to see you soon. Hug Mom n Dad for me. Love you.

You took the time to read my book. You told me exactly what you felt. and that we need to get together and go through it together with a box of wine! Yes! Hurry home though, I have something here for you. Waiting.
________________

December 28, 2015

You texted me all the way home today. I love that you let me know where you are on that awful trip through the mountains. It’s always such a relief to see that one word come through my phone. “Home.”

I called Mom today.

She’s always so sad when any of us leave her there in BC. She told me how awesome your visit was and that you all just sat and relaxed for ten whole days. She told me how healthy you were. I smiled. This makes me so happy. You have struggled for so long against addictions and you have no idea how good it is to see you winning.
________________

January 1, 2016

I called you today.

“Happy New Year Seester!” You yelled at me through the phone. I reminded you of the Christmas present I have for you. “We’ll get together soon as I have time, Toni.”

I’m waiting.
________________

January 10, 2016

We met at Bob’s for Dad’s birthday today.

I was sad to see you hadn’t shown up again. I wish you knew that despite your past, we still love you. We just want to see you. All of us. You never have to avoid us Patti, but you do. Every family gathering is just missing you; it makes me sad. You make up a part of the whole. You are a part of the “Sum of our parts.” I hate that you’re always missing when we gather. It makes me sad. Hurry up Patti. Show up.

We’re here.

Waiting.
________________

January 17, 2016

Oh God! I texted you today.

You were so angry. I told you about Dad’s cancer and his surgery on the 4th.

“Why didn’t he call me?” you asked.

He didn’t tell me or Margo either, I just found out today.

“What! I bet he told the golden boy though didn’t he?”

Yeah. He knew. Dad told me he thought he told everyone.

“He ‘thought’ he told everyone??.. he’s soooo full of shit!! telling your fkn CHILDREN that u have cancer isn’t something you “think” you did. YOU TELL ALL OF THEM. Fkn goof!! Wow. I don’t have the energy 2 b hurt by him anymore, Toni. I have enough shit in life 2 deal with.”

I know. I’m sorry. I felt you should know. Fk hey?

Yep….
________________

January 28, 2016

I texted you today.

I’m tired of not seeing you. You called and we had a long talk about my book and your roommate. You called me a meathead! Because I forgot you don’t drink my red wine. White box only! You sent me ten silly pictures and again you made me laugh. I miss your face kid. Come see me.
________________

January 29, 2016

Billy called me at seven this morning. “Toni, I have bad news.”

He told me you went in to the hospital late last night. You told him and the doctor that you will not go on the ventilator. No intubation. The doctor said you won’t make it through the day. He told me that Mom is already on her way. Come on… really? It can’t be that serious right? We’ve been here before and you always pull through it. You’re a fighter.

I got dressed and came immediately to the hospital, but I called family members first like Billy had asked me to. Ally is in Edmonton, Bob in Fort St, John. They’re both coming. I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I think they’re wasting their time coming, you’ll be fine, right? I pack the Christmas present I had waiting for you.

I arrived at the hospital to see Billy in tears. He loves you so much. He has stuck by you for so long. I am thankful for him.

Oh Goobie, you look like hell. You smiled at me and though you can’t talk very well. You told me you love me. “Babygirl,” I told you, “I love you too.”

The doctor came in and he spoke directly to me.

“She’s made it very clear that she does not want to be intubated. It’s the only thing that will save her, and by her presentation it’s probably too late now anyway. All we can do is make her comfortable at this point. It will be a matter of a couple hours.”

He also called Mom. She’s your second in command. She knows your wishes Patti, and she also refused the doctor when he asked if he could intubate you. I know this decision to do as you asked, was the hardest thing she’s ever done. How do you give consent to let your child die?
________________

I held your hand again today.

I brushed back your hair and wiped your brow as you struggled to breathe. You kept trying to find a comfortable position. I crawled into the bed to help you sit up and you fought hard to try to find a position to breathe easier. You won’t find it Kiddo. Your lungs are filling and unable to process oxygen. I pull out the Christmas present I brought for you and I opened it and went though the pictures and described them to you, because you don’t open your eyes now. It’s an album of our family. I cried.
________________

I felt desperation today.

Oh God, Patti… Mom missed her flight. She begged me to tell you to hold on until she can get here. I did, I told you that you need to hold on little sister, did you hear me? You aren’t talking anymore.

Margo arrived. We sit with you and cry, laugh with memories and comfort each other. This is really it? You’re leaving me?

The nurses have been calling you Patsie. “Oh wow.” Margo said, “You don’t want to call her that. She likes Patti.”

“Yep,” I said. “You keep calling her Patsie and she will come out of this and strangle you.” Laughter rang out through your room and for a moment it didn’t feel like you were laying there unable to join in with the family antics.

Lexi arrived. Dad and Kathy too. Lacie called me, she’s on her way with little Harlowe. There’s a few of us here now, your nieces and nephews included. You are so loved. I know you never felt that, but you are. I know you have no doubts now.

Mom has boarded another flight and she’s waiting on a layover in Edmonton. Hold on Patti. Mom will be here soon.

They’re moving you to another room in Emergency. A quiet, more private area where we can all sit around you and love you. The nurses are so good to us. They know we are all in pain. The grief is palpable, it’s a heavy weight in this room. I feel it… a complete grief as I look at the faces around me and I see memories flowing through their minds. I see distant smiles and some tears. You have no idea how much we love you. Bob is here. He looks uncomfortable in his own skin. He doesn’t handle this well despite his acting so cool, so tough.

Margo laughed through her tears and said. “She can’t go yet, I have a fridge full of leftovers.” The room burst out in laughter as we recall your penchant for food when you visited any of us. I’ve had you clean out my fridge many times; chowing down on anything you could find. I giggled at those memories.

God I’m missing you, Kid. Cut this crap out. Sit up and tell me it’s all just a big joke. I will laugh. I promise.

Your breathing is so laboured now. You can’t get oxygen. They keep you comfortable with meds that allow you to breathe as best as you can. Mom texted, she’s at the Grande Prairie airport early. Bob has gone to get her, I think he was relieved to go. He is not as tough as he acts. I leaned over and told you in your ear that Mom was only five minutes away. You heard me. I see you begin to move and you start trying to speak. We all hear you Patti. You’re trying to say “ma, ma, ma,” so quietly and I hear your heart speaking. You waited for her…. You held on for her. I know that you’re tired, and weary, but hold on Patti, she’s coming.

The Reverend came in to pray with us. He asked you if you wanted prayer and you made it known you did. We all held hands and in a moment the love was heavy and clear. The angels await you now.

She’s here! Patti, she’s here. We all left the room so she could be with you alone for a bit. You need to say your goodbyes.

We all came back in and Mom crawled into the bed with you. We propped you up and Mom cried as she held you. I watched on and wiped the beads of sweat off your brow and your lip. Your skin is so soft and warm. I just love you Patti. That’s all. Love you.
________________

3:56 pm January 29, 2016

I let you go today.

You left me.

I watched you breathe your last ragged breath as Mom wrapped you up in arms of love. She sobbed as she held you, Dad held your hand and cried softly. Your family loves you so much Patti. We surrounded you with love. Your transition was one of peace and we sent you to be with the stars, in Love. You’ve crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

You became free today.

You left the shell of a body that held you captive. You’re free floating with Papa and Chico. I wonder if Grampa Beezer was there to greet you, and Aunty Sandra and Uncle Skip. Cuddle Clarity for me too if you see her; tell her I love her please.

Lacie commented as we gazed upon your peaceful face. “She’s still so beautiful.” I think I cried the hardest then.

I know you are happy now and I know you’re ok. I know you’re free from addiction and the damage done to you is healed. You’re free Babygirl. I’m comforted in the knowledge that when I cross the Rainbow Bridge, the first person to meet me will be you. So now…

I’m no longer waiting, Patti.

Now I’m no longer going to see your face. I’m no longer going to get any more silly texts. I’m so sad Patti, but believe I will feel you here with me. I know you watch over the kids and I. I know you will watch over that big old dog too. Trucker will come here to live with us like you asked. That dog loves Crunch and Crunch loves him back. We will watch over him until he comes to be with you. Billy can’t bear to part with him yet and he will keep him for a few more days, then bring him to his new home.
________________

We will have a family gathering at Bob’s on Sunday. I know you will be there. I know you will float around us, and sneak soft kisses on every forehead. Noogies too I imagine. I hear your voice…

“I’ll see you when I’m looking at ya.”

The sum of my parts is missing a portion. There’s forever a little empty space in my heart. I wait to have you fill it again when I come there to see you. For now, I know that it’s your turn.

You are there.

Waiting.
________________

I love you Sissy. Godspeed.
________________

January 28, 2017

It’s been a year, Patti. The firsts have come and gone… all except for tomorrow. It’s gonna be a tough one.
The family cries, and tomorrow will be their day to reflect; remember. Not me. I think of today as MY day with you, because it was a year ago on this day that we really talked for the first time in a while. We chatted for an hour about so many things. You spent time with me. You took time to be with just me. I cherish today.
Today I see my life in utter ruin and turmoil. I have no idea where I’m going to be in two weeks. I’d give anything to be able to call you Patti. Anything.
________________

January 28, 2018

God, I miss you so much today. It’s been a hell of a ride.
There are firsts even in the second year I’ve found. Days where I’d give anything to just be able to call you and say “Goob! Guess what!”
Its been a big year. You missed Crunch graduate into high school. Ally graduated from her course too. Chase got engaged. Margo is back working. Bob took a new job. So many things I want to share.
Me… for all intents and purposes, I lit a match and burned my life to the ground. I packed up and drove away thinking I’d never be back. Lol.
I’ve done so many amazing things this year and I’m so happy now. I would give anything to see your face, even just one more time. I know you would be so proud of me. Though I haven’t written since you left, I did start drawing again. I drew you. As I sketched your face I felt healing. I found some of my peace.

I hope you have too.

I love you so much little sister.
________________________

January 29, 2019

I know you see me. I know you see my struggles and my victories. I’m working in the oilfield still and for the crazy money I sacrifice time with Crunch. I’m getting my debt paid off so I can go back to school. I got accepted into the nursing program in Kamloops. I’m not sure how it’ll work out but it’s a big start.
I’m happy kiddo.

We lost Don and Gramma June down here. I can imagine the hugs you gave Dad when he arrived on the rainbow bridge.
______________________

January 29, 2020

I’m having a rough go today.

I’ve been lost in memories of you the last couple days. It’s hard to concentrate on school. Yes, I did it Patti. I’m in nursing school. My marks are all in the high 80’s and 90’s. I frigging hate the fact that I can’t just call you and tell you. I’m going to be a nurse!

Mom left. She sold our Heaven and moved back up north. I can’t even talk about it. I have a lot of bad days when I need her but I’ve withdrawn from her. Can’t even.

Crunch leaves tomorrow for up north too. It’s a sound decision for his future, but I’m scared and sad. I’ll be alone. I came down here for family and they’ve all left. I’m feeling sorry for myself. 😂

More firsts have happened. Joel had a baby boy. He’s adorable. Chase got married. Dallas has Sophia now and Lexi is training horses.

I hit a horse on the road in August. Of all things a horse. It died and I feel horrible for that. I know you get that because your love for horses was as deep as mine. Totalled my car and I’m having some issues. I’m getting migraines that knock me off my feet and I’m under that care of a cardiologist now. Fun.

Patti, above all I wish I could call you. Instead I write these silly updates knowing full well your eyes don’t see them. I talk to you when I need you and I know your ears don’t hear my voice. So here I am getting ready to go to school and tears are sneaking out of my eyes. There’s so much love in my heart for you, but there’s nowhere for it to go but down my cheeks.
People say time heals all things. They lie. It doesn’t.
Because when you flit into my mind the tears flow as easily as they did the day I lost you.
Rest easy Sissy.
I love you and miss you so much.

toniandpatti

Towel Protocol

towels

Due to an abundance of social events this year, such as the recent graduations and weddings, I have to share this important informational bulletin regarding visitations. Of course, as always, our friends and family are more than welcome to stay with us at the Chateau Anderson when you travel from out of town for these events, (In fact some of you have your rooms “booked” already, and let me assure you that we look forward to it!) however I do feel that it is in everyones best interest to shed some light on the very serious topic of TOWELS.

Before I go into further detail, I must disclose that I am NOT the towel expert in our household – that honour goes to the current presiding Towel Superintendent. (I’m pretty sure I do not need to explain who this is, suffice it to say that there was absolutely no democracy involved in the creation and appointment of this position, but I digress) I am only putting this information together from what I have gleaned with my amazing powers of observation.  That combined with having been told this information approximately 750,000 times by the Towel Superintendent.  Either way, the knowledge has stuck in my cortex, at least temporarily, somehow.

For your upcoming visit you need to be aware that there are many, many towels of assorted styles and colours located in various locations throughout our house, so please feel free to print this off and keep in your suitcase for reference purposes. I may release a simplified chart version that you could keep in your wallet once you have familiarized yourself with this information.

In your bedroom you will find some WHITE towels (hereafter called the “Guest Towels”). That is, of course, unless they are not white – in which case they probably match the colour of your curtains.  Or they may match your bedding.  Or they may match the wall.  The important part to remember here is that the Guest Towels are aesthetically matched to THAT particular room and you ARE allowed to use these towels freely.  This is, in fact, the preferred towel set for you to use.

In the bathroom itself you will find some more towels (hereafter called the “Nice Towels”). These towels will of course match the bathroom wall colour perfectly.  The Nice Towels are also available for you, as our guest, to use as you wish.  The Towel Superintendent would be honoured to have you use these towels.  Important to note: Anyone who is NOT a guest in the house is NOT allowed to use these for any purpose and any unauthorized Nice Towel usage must be reported immediately! If you witness a full time resident (otherwise known as Scoundrel or Rapscallion) with a Nice Towel please report the transgression to the Towel Superintendent (TS) who will then dish out the appropriate punishment (a little too happily and enthusiastically, I might add).

If you should happen to find some green bath towels hanging in the bathroom (hereafter called the “Green Towels”) please note that these belong to the kids.  Said kids should not leave Green Towels out in public areas so if you do see a rogue Green Towel out in view, please again report to the TS immediately.  We do not recommend handling a Green Towel without necessary safety equipment and we cannot be held liable for any injury or sickness incurred by said towels.  If a Green Towel is seen moving on its own or trying to escape please skip the Towel Superintendent and immediately dial 911.

Depending on your length of stay (and the status of our laundry day) you may also have an emergency situation and where someone will direct you to the hall closet where you will find a colourful stack we like to call the “Spare Towels”. These towels are perfectly acceptable (in fact magnificent) if the only parameter for a towels worthiness was something crazy like, you know, actually drying stuff off.  However these towels have been cursed with colours and patterns that do NOT match any of our home décor and have therefore been banished to the closet where they are only brought into use should the Daily Living Towel System malfunction and the Towel Emergency Plan Level One be enacted.  If this situation occurs please use the towels as normal but refrain from commenting on their colour or style.  The Towel Superintendent is very aware of the situation should these fine towels come into need and making note of these towels will not improve the matter.

As a last point, there are some faded, ragged old blue towels located on the premises. (Hereafter called the “Old Towels”).  These towels are the only ones that I personally am actually allowed to use.  As a guest in our house there should never, ever, EVER be a reason for you to even see the Old Towels.  If you do happen upon an Old Towel then we will know that the Towel System has fully broken down into complete towel anarchy.  The Towel Superintendent will be forced to implement the full Towel Emergency Protocol.  I honestly do not know what that means but I suspect it will be akin to the audio file from the Hindenburg disaster.  Oh the humanity!  If it reaches this point it will be every man/woman for themselves, do not stop to save pets or help others – it’s not worth it and there simply is no time.  There will be no debrief or further follow up needed should we reach this point.  I can only bid you farewell and wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.  The rest will come out at the trial.

We look forward to having you visit, please enjoy your stay and remember to Towel responsibly.

With great power comes great eccentricity

 

swordofdamocles

There’s an old saying that goes “if you’re not part of the solution, you are part of the problem”. With that in mind I have decided that it is time for me to stand up, put my money where my mouth is and bravely become a part of the problem – I mean solution. Whatever. The point is, I am going to run for office. I haven’t decided which office yet, I suspect my platform will guide that direction, but when the people see what I have to offer I assume that they may push for Canada to return to a Monarchy and make me their King. We shall see.

My platform is very simple. As proven by many of our previous election results, voters don’t seem to care about the big issues anyway, so why bother? I will leave those items to the regular monkeys and I will focus my time on issues where I can really make a difference. Important issues that may not make the daily news but will help make life easier for the average individual. Here are some of the key points I will have on my agenda:

Gas stations will have a separate lineup for cigarettes and lottery tickets – That’s right, if you want to buy these items at a gas station that’s fine, but you are a second tier customer to someone who is using a gas station to, oh you know, ACTUALLY BUY GAS. If you are holding up a line while you try to decide between a Bingo scratch or a Crossword scratch the gas station employee will be required, by law, to pull a lever and open a trap door which will drop you into a pit of serpents. Don’t worry, your fall will be softened by the piles of non-winning scratch tickets that will all be stored down there. The snakes? All I can say is “Good luck.”

While we are on Gas station rules, pay at the pump will also be required to just give you fuel. Swipe your card and fill your car. Easy.  No more “Please enter amount, select account, what’s your code, would you like a carwash? Reward points? How about a receipt? Care to see a weather update? Want to buy some potato chips?” – No, none of the nonsense, you get regular fuel and you leave.
Note – if you are in some kind of crazy tax bracket where you can afford premium fuel then you will have your own lineup, you probably don’t want to associate with the rest of us common folk anyway.

One last small gas station point – if the receipt printer is broken the pump will no longer say “please see inside for receipt”. Nope, if they can’t keep their equipment working then your fuel is free. The display will say “sorry we cannot keep a basic thermal printer operating for more than 12 minutes, your money has been refunded into your account, enjoy your free gas”.

With some of the small teaser promises out of the way, it’s time to unveil what is possibly my largest campaign platform: Once elected, I will immediately implement a four day work week. That’s right, EVERY weekend will be a “long weekend”. The best part is, it will be a floating long weekend so you decide if you want to take the Friday off or the Monday. I see merit in each so the choice will be a personal one – let it not be said that I don’t follow my constituents wishes. Of course this free time will allow for more recreation, so if you don’t have a hobby you may want to find one quickly for my next campaign promise: Any purchase that is a part of your recreation shall be considered a positive for mental health and will be a 100% tax write-off. Skiing, Snowmobiling, Camping gear, Motorcycles, fuel to get… well, fuel to get really anywhere that isn’t work. You get the idea. If it’s a way to relax that isn’t a chore then it’s covered. Yes, even that big screen TV if that’s your pastime. Heck, let’s throw in your Netflix subscription.

Social Media will also see some changes under my watch. We’ve all received those irritating chain messages that show up to your inbox and say “let’s keep this going!” – usually around the holidays. These pesky messages are annoying at best and, at worst, can carry viruses or malware. Under my regime, the forwarding of these messages will automatically generate an email money transfer of $25.00 from your bank account to every person that you sent it to. Your social media account will then be deactivated until you can show some semblance of self-control. Honestly, we can have a Merry Christmas without a flashing Christmas tree GIF arriving from someone we speak to once every four years.

Changes will also be made in how we see political social media posts. And by that I mean, we won’t see them.  All political posts on social media will be covered or blurred (similar to the current graphic images warnings) and you will have decide if you actually want to view it. Simply scrolling will no longer subject you to the President of Russia’s head photo-shopped onto a moose or any other unsolicited quotes or opinions. Let’s be honest, never, ever, in the history of ever-ness has someone switched party allegiance because Dave from New Brunswick shared his hilarious Prime Minister meme. NEVER.

This is just a start to my election promises, but of course I will be open to more suggestions. As stated previously, listening to my constituents will be at the very foundation of my leadership role. (Except for the weird people). In the meantime, I value your input on such items as a title for myself; does “Supreme Leader” seem too magniloquent? I suppose it will depend on whether or not “King” is available. Whatever the title is, I promise to work hard for the little people. I won’t promise to ignore budgets, economies or unemployment numbers as we already have enough people in power that ignore these. Instead, whenever these issues are raised, I will proceed to stare blankly at a wall. That should be as effective as or better than most leadership strategies.

Oh, I almost forgot, puppies will be free and there will be dog parks on every corner – And we will make the Cat people pay for it.

Thank you for your support.

 

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Coffee fund

CA$5.00

The Journey

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It was 1983, the year that saw 115 million people say good bye to Captain Hawkeye Pierce and Corporal Maxwell Klinger and the rest of the 4077 as M*A*S*H ended its 11 year reign on network TV. The Police owned the radio airwaves with “Every Breath You Take” and Pierre Elliot Trudeau was back for his final term as the Prime Minister of Canada. Steve and Joanne Patenaude were as excited as any parent would be to welcome their bouncing baby boy into this world but they had no way of knowing of the journey that they were all about to embark upon. Their newborn son, Trevor, was born with acute Epilepsy.

Trevor’s epilepsy was severe. In fact, the Doctors noted that it was one of the worst cases of Epilepsy seen in British Columbia to date. As a parent it is hard to imagine the torture that Trevor’s parents would have went through as his prognosis was given: The right side of his body was paralyzed. He would be partially brain dead by the time he was a teenager. His life expectancy was not to exceed 30. As time went on there were small improvements, by the age of two he had gained use of his right side and Trevor’s diagnosis was upgraded to “wouldn’t lead a normal life” and “motorskills will diminish over time”. At this time the Patenaudes met Dr. Hill, who would become a major influence in Trevor’s battle with Epilepsy. Dr. Hill firmly believed that he could help Trevor lead a normal life. The Patenaudes quickly settled into a routine that included monthly or sometimes bi-weekly trips from Prince George to Vancouver, a distance of roughly 800 kilometres, to see Dr. Hill. For nine years.received_1371552932998952

Around the age of 9, the seizures had subsided to the point that he did what many “normal” nine year olds did – he got his first dirtbike. For the next few summers Trevor and his dad ripped up the trails around home, producing some of the best memories that they both have. The excitement of pushing limits in the dirt was born and the feeling of being a normal kid made it all the better. Trevor had found his passion but during the summer of 1996 he would learn, for the first time, how fickle a mistress a dirtbike can be. On yet another outing on the trails he was, as usual, pushing the limits of himself and his machine when he met a four wheeler on a blind corner, head on. Even with his safety gear, including a chest protector which was split in half, Trevor broke six bones and spent a month in hospital. A further two months were spent in bed at home and then the rest of the year learning how to walk for the second time in his life. Though hard work and desire, Trevor was back on a bike by Easter of 1997.

The battle with Epilepsy was not over however, and in 1999 at the age of 16, the seizures returned. The trips to the Doctor and the tests started all over again and, even worse, while all of his friends were excitedly getting their drivers licenses, Trevor was forced to wait another two years. Once again it was cruelly pointed out that he was not “normal”. For the next few years the dirtbike took a back seat, its usage getting less and less until finally in 2003 the two wheeled love of Trevor’s life was sold – it had become an expensive dust collector. Dirtbiking was now just a source of fond memories from his childhood.

As his dirtbike-free life continued, Trevor met Crystal, his future wife, and the two quickly became inseparable. As they shared their stories and she learned more about his life she could sense the hole in Trevor’s world where motorcycles had once been. In 2010 she surprised Trevor by buying him an almost new Suzuki RM250 two stroke. It was time to get back in the saddle. After a few summers of practice it was decided that his long lost dream should again become a reality: It was time to try an actual race! With the help and support of friends and family, a trade for his two stroke bike saw Trevor line up at the start gate in the beginner class on a five year old 4 stroke RMZ450. The track was muddy and it was a struggle but Trevor managed to pull off a win – out of two people. Regardless, he was hooked on racing! Now knowing how much work a race was, a gym regiment was started to get ready for the 2015 season. At this time Trevor also met Garry Logan, who welcomed him to the NR motors race team and Trevor promptly bought a new RMZ450 Suzuki to race. This purchase may or may not have been made with Crystal’s knowledge and approval, that topic of discussion shall remain between the two of them.

With a new bike, new team and a new drive to win Trevor only had one piece of the puzzle to worry about: The Epilepsy had resurfaced yet again. New tests showed that it had never really stopped in fact: An EEG discovered that Trevor was having micro-seizures all along. The number of seizures discovered shocked everyone, including the Doctors: He was having over 700 seizures per day. The Doctor was amazed that Trevor could even function in daily life, let alone work and succeed. In the Doctors’ words “imagine trying to do your desk job and your monitor is going to shut off for 1 to 4 seconds… 700 times a day – how productive would you be?”

The seizures had become a part of Trevor, so ingrained into his daily functioning that no one around him even noticed. If Trevor paused before speaking, that was just his mannerism – it had become who he was. Further tests resulted in the loss of his driver’s license again, which he would get back just in time for the race season. The leap was made from Beginner class to Veteran Junior class and the steep learning curve on the track continued: The season total was a broken nose, two cracked ribs, two separated shoulders, a sprained ankle and a concussion – which is never a good thing for someone suffering from epilepsy. More importantly, to Trevor at least, the season ended with a placement of 8th overall and a renewed dedication to the next season, which would see a move over to the blue team when his friend Jon Giroday brought him under the PG Motorsports banner on a new Yamaha YZF450. A calmer approach to riding meant that Trevor was getting smoother and more controlled and by 2017 he was catching the top 5 fastest of his class.

Through all of this, Crystal and Trevor had gotten their kids into motocross as well, teaching them the passion and dedication required to be successful on the track. The little racers quickly became known throughout the circuit and were setting their own goals to achieve. Late in the season of 2017, in a highlight moment of his life, Trevor found himself standing on the podium for the first time with his son Lyndon also holding down a podium spot. No one knew that making the podium together would never happen again.received_2986455278095825

In September of 2017 the Patenaude family was at the Hard Knox MX track to ride. Trevor’s parents had made it out and it was the first time his mom had seen Trevor ride since he was a kid. There was a challenging double jump that Trevor had been wanting to nail but previous attempts had been hampered by gusty wind. Today was calm and the conditions were favourable so Trevor rolled into it a few times, backing down at the last moment. He told his son Lynden “see buddy, even grown-ups get scared sometimes” – a statement that would surely impact Lyndon ’s riding career in the future.received_674121109738624

On the lead in to the jump Trevor’s bike kicked sideways, scrubbing off some needed speed. He corrected with more throttle but an overcompensation made Trevor run long on the landing, putting his bike down hard on the flats instead of the downhill slope of the jump. The impact drove his legs down past the pegs holding his foot, pushing his toes up towards his shins. The instant pain told Trevor that this was a bad one and he rode to a stop, calling to his dad for help. As shock set in, Trevor was able to stand on his “good” leg and lean against his bike while his dad went for the truck. It was later revealed that his good leg wasn’t actually good at all – shock can make people do amazing things. The bike was loaded and they headed to the hospital, thinking a broken ankle was on the agenda. Crystal, herself an Emergency RN, was called and told they weren’t going to make it home for dinner. Trevor’s history of 22 broken bones and 12 surgeries ensured that there was no shortage of friendly faces at the hospital waiting for him, but this time was different. This break was bad. X-rays showed a need for multiple surgeries and his Doctor impressed upon him that this was going to be a very long road. The concern on the Doctors face is what caught Trevor off guard. As he explained that this was more than just a broken ankle, this time the injury is different – this one is SEVERE – Trevor realized that there was the real possibility of never fully recovering. On the way home, the reality of this situation set in. It was no longer a question of when he could ride again, instead it was a question of if he could walk again. A question of whether the pain would ever go away. He thought of the timeline the Doctor had given him: 3 months in bed and 6 months until he could “maybe” put weight on his ankles. He thought of the family and their active life with the boys in hockey for the winter, the off season training for motocross – how could he just miss all of that? For the first time, Trevor broke down and began to cry.received_441836409757972

The next 3 months saw Trevor laying on the same bed, looking out the same window, each and every day. The bed rest was reminiscent of his four wheeler crash when he was a child, watching everyone’s lives go by while he lay immobilized. He had zero feeling in his right foot and ankle but the nerve pain was unbearable. It took weeks just to get it under control and even then, the pain wasn’t really under control – He just took enough Dilaudid that he could pass out and avoid the agony. Eventually Trevor was given the go ahead to start moving around, using a wheelchair to get himself to the washroom and see sights other than the same wall he had been staring at. Bedrest at home was better than in the hospital but the lack of mobility was still frustrating. In a moment of ambition, he transitioned himself out of his wheelchair and lifted himself up the stairs, one step at a time, dragging his wheelchair behind him, to get to the “big TV” and the fridge. While he was proud of his achievement, his wife Crystal was not so impressed: She was furious at his risk filled adventure up the stairs and its potential for disaster.

Finally it was time to learn to walk again! With his legs feeling like spaghetti (a feeling well remembered from when he was 12) Trevor made gains in his mobility. He quickly learned how far he could walk each day while trying to keep the pain in check. 2000 steps meant the pain was intense but bearable. 3000 steps meant the next day would be spent in bed. The excruciating pain that welcomed him each morning made sure that he monitored exactly how far he pushed. Through this process, a problem was detected with his right ankle: it was not aligned properly and the pain was not getting better as it should have. The foot remained without feeling but the ankle more than made up for it, feeling like flaming knives were being pushed into it daily. The pain coupled with the stalled progress on his step count began to wear on Trevor’s optimism. He started to wonder how he could live the rest of his life like this. As supportive as his family was, he began to feel like a burden with no hope.

Another meeting with the surgeon was in order, this time to look at what options were available for the next step, pain control being the main topic of discussion. The discussion was dark, the reality harsh: They could re-break the ankle, straighten and align it, and then fuse it in place, removing all motion except up and down. If the pain still persisted then there was only one option left if he wanted to ever walk more than 2000 steps: he had to consider amputation and a prosthetic device. Trevor understood that the Doctor was giving him the “worst case scenario” but the emotions took over. As Crystal helped him to the truck, he cried tears of frustration. And tears of anger. They decided to try the option of fusing the ankle.

After the surgery, the recovery process started all over again and Trevor’s mind began to drive down to a darker place. He felt useless again, unable to provide for his family, unable to help out around the house. He thought about all of the things that used to keep him happy: hiking with his wife, riding his bike, playing with his kids – each thought made it worse and he wondered if he would ever do any of those activities again. Perhaps they should just remove his ankles and be done with it. The frustration was immeasurable. So many months had passed and here he was, back at square one. Through social media Trevor had met others with injuries, one very similar to his, who were leaving him in the dust on the recovery road. He was, of course, happy for their progress but it pointed out how slow and painful his journey was. Why couldn’t anything go right? Why was life so cruel? The surgeon said the ankle looked good now, was fused straight and was healing, but nothing was going fast enough for Trevor. The next 8 months were spent trying, and failing, to get his life back. The pain, while better, was still always lurking in the shadows, ready to rear up and cruelly remind Trevor when he pushed too far. The chronic pain coupled with the lack of mobility also brought on a steady weight gain, something that Trevor had historically struggled with anyway. The entire journey was weighing heavily on Trevor, taking his mindset to a dark and unhappy place. Up to this point, his natural charm and smile had nearly everyone fooled, his spirit bright to the outside world while Trevor’s inner misery remained hidden. But as the weeks turned into months, the burden would no longer stay buried. His face began to show the depression and torment that was carried inside. Friends and family noticed the change in his demeanor and would ask if he was ok, frustrating him even more. How could he yell out “What the F**K do you think??” to his friends? Trevor was at a crossroads where many people are unable to return from.

Fortunately Trevor finally opened up about his inner feelings, letting those who loved him inside, letting them help. Diet and nutrition was something he could work on without his ankles, something tangible to learn about and improve. Everything was changed, right down to the water he drank and the improvements were immediate. His workouts got better, his recovery times faster, his energy levels rising – and all in measurable quantities that he could track. Why hadn’t he realized how important diet and nutrition was before? The mindset improvement alone was worth it, the physical improvements a by-product of his new attitude and drive. He finally could see that he was going to live again. received_1133647836829618

In the back of his mind however there was still one little bug that remained an annoyance, and as he got the rest of his life back, that little bug grew incessantly louder. If you ask any rider who crashes, the number one thing they think about is when they can ride again. That had been stolen from Trevor as his number one thought to date had been whether he would even walk again. As his body improved, the need to ride again became as real as the moment he had first crashed. The reality was, racing again was not an option. With 16 rods and plates holding his ankles together, any further injury would be catastrophic and there would be no coming back.

One of the things that had always bothered Trevor was how his racing career had ended. From standing on the podium with his son to never riding again in an instant. He had always assumed that it would be up to him when the time was right to retire and the thought of a forced ending had never crossed his mind. The plan was made to try and fix that, to have one more day as a racer. One more track walk, one more riders meeting, one more gate drop as they were all deeply missed and would have been more appreciated each time had it been known in advance that they were to be his last. In talks with Garry Logan, who originally welcomed Trevor to his team in years previous, it was decided (with explicit approval from his wife Crystal of course) that Forest Power Sports would get Trevor on a bike for one last race, as well as the gear to do so! This plan made Trevor redouble his training regimen as he knew exactly what level of physical fitness was required to finish a moto without vomiting in your helmet – that and he needed to lose a pants size before raceday if he was going to fit into his team gear!received_487537091828504  

When the day came, Trevor was astonished at how humbling the experience was, the support from other riders and teams unimaginable. Their level of respect and appreciation during the riders meeting and practice sessions was nothing short of amazing. But now it was time to get serious. As Trevor sat at the start gate he closed his eyes, dropped his head and tried to calm himself. He thought about the long road he had travelled to be here and he tried to focus on his gratitude instead of his nerves. He thought about the role model he was for his children. He thought about the support from his family and friends and he thought about the support from his wife and her undying love. He didn’t know how or why she was able to put up with everything they had been through but he did know one thing: There is no way that he would be here without her.

The 5 second board turned sideways (indicating the gate is about to drop) as he looked up and he caught himself holding his breath. He stared at the starting gate and grabbed a handful of throttle. It had been 727 days since he had been in this position and as the gate dropped he ran on pure instinct, grabbing gears and looking ahead to the first turn. Trevor found himself very near the front as they entered the first corner and he charged hard with the pack. Motocross racing is one of, if not the most demanding physical sport in the world and it didn’t take long for his lack of seat time to become apparent. After pushing for a few laps Trevor remembered why he was here and backed off, letting some of the faster riders by and simply enjoyed the moment and the fun of being on the track. Over the course of the weekend he never hit the first turn any less than in third place and even managed to finish in the top ten (out of 27 riders) for one race. As Trevor rolled back into the pits after the final race of the weekend Crystal hugged him and said “It’s over!” and he replied “yeah… it really is. We did it!” He squeezed her harder than he ever had before.

Looking back at his entire journey Trevor can pick out many defining moments that have helped him become the person that he is today. He knows that his kids look up to him as role model. He knows that he has instilled a sense of passion for life, especially motocross, in his son’s hearts, as his father did for him. He has learned the power of healthy eating and nutrition for mind, body and spirit. He has learned the power of perseverance and how important a positive mindset is. He has learned what true gratitude in life is. But most of all, he has learned the power of teamwork and that as long as he has his wife and family by his side they can take on anything.

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The Yellow Dress

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It was a picture perfect day, the sun shining brightly, the kind of day a Mom dreams of for her daughter’s wedding. Her little girl looked so gorgeous in her pretty yellow dress, which was untraditional of course but it was her daughter’s favourite colour so the choice was obvious. She thought back, yellow had been her baby girls favourite for as long as she could remember; from running and squealing amongst the dandelions as a toddler to proudly proclaiming that Belle was the best Disney Princess (look at her dress mom!), the colour had always held her daughters adoration. Mom finds her thoughts drifting to her daughter’s high school prom, again with an elegant yellow dress, hair and makeup done to perfection. That infectious and slightly mischievous smile her daughter wore always brightened her day, made her world a better place and she would cherish that moment forever. Her beautiful daydream was interrupted by a well-dressed man somberly offering his condolences. Who was he? She couldn’t place it, he was familiar but there were so many people around. Her confusion opened the door back to reality and it all came crashing in, a tsunami of grief and sorrow. There was no wedding and there would be no prom; Cancer had taken those dreams away. Her baby girl was only 6 years old and the pretty yellow dress her daughter has on is the one she will be buried in today.

The Top Button

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I’m a guy and I hang up clothes the way most guys do: if it manages to stay off the floor then I’ve done my job. In our household there are no “blue” and “pink” jobs, my wife and I share responsibilities, chores and duties as required. You are just as likely to find my wife shoveling the driveway while I cook dinner as the other way around, we are not fussy. Laundry however is one area where I do lack behind her just a little. Ok, maybe a lot. Laundry has become mostly her job, and ability plays no small part in this reasoning. She meticulously sorts colours and fabric types for each load, while I have three categories: things that are white, things that used to be white, and things that I’m unsure what to do with so I leave them in the bottom of the hamper for her to wash.

Which brings me back to my clothes hanging abilities. When I hang up one of my shirts, I stuff the hanger into the sleeves and presto, done! On the other hand, my wife likes to make things perfect; she makes sure the hanger is sitting correctly on the shoulders and she pulls the sleeves taught, double checking that the hems are flat and not rolled up. She fusses with the collar, putting it upright and even, with no wrinkles or creases. To hold the shirt perfectly in place on the hanger she also does up the top button – you know that little one right at the collar that is almost impossible fasten? She says this holds the shirt nice and square and keeps it looking sharp. She says she likes me to look good.

When I am rushing for work in the morning and I try to grab a shirt off of the hanger I have to pause and wrestle with that little button – the one that is so hard to undo and usually requires that I put things down and use both hands to get my shirt free of its shackle. Do I sigh and roll my eyes impatiently because I have to fight with this little button during my morning rush? Absolutely not. I know that this button is done up purely out of love. She has put in extra effort for the soul benefit of me looking better (and honestly, I need all the help I can get).

In a hectic world full of short cuts and efficiencies, where “good enough” is often the norm, these kinds of little details can easily go unnoticed, so when you do come across them, be sure to appreciate it. Take the time to notice when someone puts in that little extra effort just for you. My wife and I do a lot for each other in life and this little button has become a small symbol; a daily reminder to look after the little things for each other.

May you all be lucky enough to have someone take the time to fasten your top button.

The Moosinator Car Cleaning System

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If you are like me, you hate digging under the seats of your vehicle to clean out the black hole that seems to exist there. Worry no more, I have developed a great new system for checking for lost gloves, empty coffee cups or a rogue French-fry lost in the dark abyss beneath your heated faux leather command center. My system is quite amazing in its simplicity and its ease of use ensures that anyone can do it. Simply head out on the highway and get yourself up to an acceptable speed, usually as fast as the law will allow. Many times this velocity is actually a number well above the posted maximum legal limit, but the whole outlaw discussion is for another time so let’s stick to “normal” highway speed.

Now comes the tricky part. What you need to do is find a moose. Not just any old lazy moose either. This system does not work if Mr. Moose is standing in the ditch contemplating the many wrong decisions he has made in his life while chewing on a willow. No, you need the Usain Bolt of the moose world. He needs to come out of the ditch like the starting pistol was actually a 30:06 and the starter just flashed his hunting license. The moose needs to not look and not think, just RUN. If the timing is right, this mad sprint for a gold medal in the Moolympics will be on a perfect course to intercept your path at precisely the middle of your grill.

Now that you have successfully set up two intercepting vectors between you (sipping your double-double while Neil Diamond assures you the good times never seemed so good) and a rampaging Bullwinkle (who has decided that the willows on the other side of the highway are the equivalent of Moosy heroin) it is time to put the last touches on my plan. You see, at this point the only way to avoid this collision is for YOU to act. If you have chosen your moose correctly he will not waver from his bull-headed charge (I will allow you to groan at that one) so you need to stop. Fast.

As you instinctively try to avoid death by pushing the brake pedal through the floorboard it is a good time to find a name for your new friend, the moose. (Note – if you are not instinctively trying to avoid dying then you may need a life coach and possibly a hobby). Naming your Moose will be easy as the name ideas will come to your mind very quickly – and most of them will be four letter derivatives. Don’t just trust how they sound in your head either, scream some of these names out at the top of your lungs to test if they fit the moose’s personality. I suspect that they will, at least mine did – especially the one that referenced his mother and ended in “ucker”. Yeah that suits him well.

That’s all there really is to this new cleaning system. You can now reach down and pick up every item that was under your seat as it has slid forward for easy access. Depending on whether you have kids or not, this cleanup may or may not require gloves or a hazmat suit – thankfully my children have grown so I mostly had gloves, tools, a dog toy and a couple of M & M’s. Not bad. Of course some negative Nellies will say “But isn’t it easier to just clean under your seat?” to which I say nay-nay. Life is too short to do things the hard way – my system requires very little effort. The adrenaline rush is an incredibly cool side effect too; the Moosinator will clean your car and give you all the excitement of a failed parachute. I may even approach the X-Games to see if they are interested in this as an extreme sport.

Fair warning, there is a slight downside to this fabulous plan: As clean as the floor under the seats of your vehicle may become, this system does take its toll on your underwear. I won’t go into too much graphic detail but suffice it say that your underwear may become decidedly not clean. Luckily for me my wife does most of the laundry though so it’s not a problem; I’ll just hide them at the bottom of the basket.

 

Sorry! This product is not available for purchase at this time.

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CA$5.00

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

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How he loved this time of year. He enjoyed watching all of the seasons come and go, but this one had always been his favourite. The colourful lights strung across storefronts, the Christmas music playing softly, the friendly smiles from strangers. Tonight was also the official City Light-up Ceremony so there was more activity than usual downtown. The giant Christmas tree stood proudly, covered with decorations, its bright lights visible from blocks away. Kids were running around squealing with glee, both hands full of candy canes and hot chocolate, not caring that it spilled as they slid and played in the snow covered square. It wouldn’t be long until the parents would be shooing these children off to bed, telling them they must fall asleep quickly for Santa to come. His thoughts harkened back to his own childhood, remembering the excitement of this magical season; the treats, the toys, the goodwill, and of course the family and friends. Like most children, the toys had been his favourite part of the holidays but as he grew older he realized that the family gatherings were what really counted. He fondly recalled the smell of turkey throughout the house as the family dinner was prepared. He would warm his hands by the stove, cheeks red from an adventurous afternoon out in the snow with his brothers. They always knew it was time to come in when the sun had set and the brightly coloured Christmas lights their dad had hung from the eaves were the only thing left to light their way through the snow. He started to wonder what his brothers were up to tonight, wondered if they were somewhere in the crowd with their own children now… but he quickly brushed those thoughts aside. Thoughts like that only brought pain and he was in too good of a mood tonight. Besides, this festive season would end soon enough, the cold darkness of January would set in and people would go back to staring at their shoes to avoid eye contact as they walked past him. He breathed a lonely sigh as he sat down on his ragged cardboard matt in the alley that he called home. He pulled his knees to his chest and hunched his collar up a little higher over his bare neck; it was going to be another long, cold night on the street. “Merry Christmas” he mumbled to himself.

The Academy Award Goes To: Living With Pain

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People who live with persistent pain are big fakers. There, I said it. I live with someone with persistent pain every day and I see this acting first hand. She is such a good actor in fact that even as close as we are, sometimes I miss the signs. Oh, she isn’t acting about having pain – that part is very real. She is just great at pretending everything is normal.

My wife keeps herself incredibly busy since leaving work on permanent disability due to MS. She is usually up long past my bedtime and often up again in the morning before I leave for work. She is on several volunteer boards and is constantly stepping in to help with fund raisers, support groups and other noble causes. On top of this she trains our dogs, including a future brace and mobility service dog for herself, which requires on average 5 hours of work each day. She helps our daughters with everything she can, from life planning to career prep and college survival. Of course we also have our normal life commitments of dinners, birthdays, family gatherings and holidays – all of which she takes the lead on organizing and hosting, decorating, cooking and planning. Throw in a list of doctors’ appointments and trips out of town to see specialists and I honestly get tired just watching her go.

I’m telling you this so that you may understand how easy it is to forget that through all of it, her MS list of symptoms includes pain. Every day she has to fight through it, willing her body to push past the desire to give in, to just quit and let the pain win. And from the outside looking in, most people have no idea this battle is happening. The telltale signals are subtle but they are there; she will often start to wring her hands quietly. Perhaps her answers to ordinary questions get a little bit short. Sometimes she may say that she needs to sit and have a tea in the middle of a project that is under time restraint. Maybe she will tell me that we should leave her car in town and she will just catch a ride home with me “to save gas”. Each of these little things gives me a tiny glimpse into how her pain level is on any particular day; and these little cues are so very easy to miss. So if I, her husband and closest ally, have trouble catching the subtleties between a “good” day and a bad one, what chance does a stranger have of knowing that sometimes she is struggling just to stand up? The short answer is ZERO.

We need to be aware of the persistent pain that exists, often in invisibility, and realize that we most likely interact with someone suffering with pain every day; recent stats suggest that as many as 6 million Canadians suffer from persistent pain. That is about 19% of the population, almost one in five and trust me, they are very good at hiding it.

Every person suffering from persistent pain has their own path to follow, their own degree of pain to endure, their own level of tolerance, and their own methods of coping. This journey is often a very private and personal one and no one else can honestly say how “bad” someone else has it. I obviously cannot speak for all pain sufferers but I do have knowledge of what my wife goes through on a daily basis. (Note I said “knowledge” – I won’t do her or any other persistent pain sufferers the disservice of pretending I understand what it’s like). I see how she mentally beats herself up when her body refuses to cooperate and she is forced to miss an event she had looked forward to. The guilt she belies upon herself if she is not feeling up to helping someone as she had planned. The frustration she feels when she doesn’t get everything accomplished that she had wanted to that day. Through it all she keeps on a brave face that most of the world cannot see past. “But you look so good” or “You don’t look sick” are commonly heard from people when they find out she has MS. There is no way for them to know or understand how much effort goes into appearing normal. She, like so many others, is a fantastic actor. What these actors can use is some compassion from us, the supporting cast. Be kind. Some days it’s hard to keep a smile through the pain.

Back to basics – Saving money or saving our souls?

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Not that long ago the world was a simpler place, although it may have been more work than we have currently grown accustomed to; we only need to talk to our parents or our grandparents for a glimpse into what life was like before all of the conveniences came along to make every moment of our day easier. Some of us are old enough to remember a lot of it ourselves; my wife, for example, recalls when running water was put into her grandma’s house for the first time. (Age joke removed so that I may continue to live). It’s easy to take for granted the things that were considered luxuries not very far back in history.

As our kids were growing up my wife and I followed the “normal” life path, working hard on career building, upgrading skills, fighting for promotions and salary increases while balancing a busy schedule brought about by endless evenings of sports, dance and other extracurricular activities. We ran non-stop to afford our kids every opportunity we could give them. We upgraded to a very large brand new house with enough bedrooms for everyone to have their own. We bought vehicles that could haul everyone. We were, by all accounts, living the so-called “Canadian dream”. To be fair I wouldn’t change a bit of it either, that’s not what this is about. We loved every minute of it.

As our kids started moving out of the house to spread their wings and leave their own mark on this world, we found that the big beautiful house we built was a little bit excessive for just the two of us. We joked that we only needed to clean three rooms as we never ventured in to most of the others anymore. We started to look at the mortgage as a burden, not a point of pride. We started to discuss the prospect of “downsizing” – but how could we? We had built our dream house ourselves, raised the kids there, buried pets there, held proms, graduations, birthday parties and endless Christmas parties there – we couldn’t possibly leave could we?

Recently my wife and I had a large change in lifestyle and it has given us new perspectives on some things, some appreciation of other things and a change in priority on a lot of things: In the middle of our downsize decision process my wife was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and went off work on permanent disability – see her story here. This series of unfortunate events gave us the push we needed, it was time to find a smaller house – preferably one with less stairs for her to bounce down. Now if we had simply moved to a small house then that would be the end of this, and frankly it would be a rather boring story, but here is where we get back to the “modern conveniences” topic I originally mentioned.

A wise friend once said to me “you can live in your career and commute to your lifestyle or live in your lifestyle and commute to your career – I choose lifestyle”. These words nailed the thought process in our decision to move out of town to a humble little house (which we fondly call “our ugly little box”) in the country. While I now have a longer commute to work, we have access to sledding, hiking, biking, fishing, swimming, berry picking and canoeing all within literal seconds of our front door. A pretty decent trade off in my book.

Part of this downsizing out to the country also brought a return to a simpler style of living. While our house does have a natural gas furnace, we do much of our heating with wood. The warmth and light of a crackling fire in the living room on a cold and snowy day is something we both love. Of course this also gives me an excuse to use my chainsaw as much as possible during the summer to be sure the woodshed is full before winter hits. A lot of people I talk to turn up their nose at the thought of cutting, splitting and hauling firewood but truth be told, I enjoy it. I have to apologize to my dad for the grief I gave him when it was time to help with firewood when I was a kid: I had no idea how much work he was actually doing, or how little work I was probably doing. I can only hope that he enjoyed it then as I do now.

Our new house also does not have a clothes dryer. With only the two of us to get clothes dirty we now have a drying rack to hang our clothes by the fire during the winter months and we simply hang them outside during the summer. Again, a little more work perhaps but the energy (and financial) savings are huge and putting on clothes crisp and fresh off the line is fantastic. I’ve been told that clothes last longer without the beating and abuse that a dryer puts them through as well, not a big deal but a bonus if it’s true.

We have no dishwasher. Yes you read that correctly. When dinner is done we actually fill a sink with hot water and (GASP!) get our hands wet! It honestly takes about the same amount of time as loading and unloading the dishwasher and again, big energy savings. A drying rack on the counter and its done. Unless of course it’s a day where Carla did some baking, in which case it may take two weeks to even find the kitchen sink, let alone get them all washed. That gal can go through dishes when she gets on a tear in the kitchen let me tell you.

Are you sitting down for this next one? If you are ready I shall continue… We have NO MICROWAVE OVEN. There. I said it. If we want to thaw something out we have to plan ahead and pull it out of the freezer the day before. If we want to reheat something it goes back on the stove. Or eat it cold. Either way is usually fine. It is hard to believe that just 30 short years ago only one in four houses even had a microwave oven. That number didn’t break 50% until the mid 90’s. If you ask around today, the common belief is that before the microwave age people lived like savages. We are surviving just fine, I assure you.

There is another peculiarity about our little house that you may notice were you to venture through the humble abode, and that is we have only one television. (Peculiar if you go by the accepted average of three per house anyway). And it’s small. And there is no cable hooked to it. We watch a little bit of online monthly subscription television but the days of having a TV running 24/7 are long gone. It’s nicer to be outside to be honest.

There is a reason I am sharing these little things with you – I am hoping to inspire some of you to think about a simpler life. Take pride in doing the easy things yourself. Hang up a load of laundry. Handwash some dishes. Turn off the TV, grab a book and head outside. We all like to save on our power bill by changing a few light bulbs over but for us this downsize has gone a lot further: Our current power bill is hovering around 1/5 of what it was in our old house. That’s an 80% decrease! Beyond the health and mental benefits we have found, these savings alone makes a little extra effort worthwhile. We dove into this “new” lifestyle with both feet and we couldn’t be happier. You don’t always have to “keep up with the Joneses”, just do what you love and perhaps you will find that the “Joneses” will start trying to keep up with you.

 

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