Category Archives: Everyday Life

20 Days In The Hole

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I haven’t written about my emotions in quite some time. Hell, I’ve been trying to escape them with the drink. At least, I think that’s what I’ve been doing. Really, I’d lost my focus and my direction a long time ago and finding the numbness seems like it was my guiding principle, if I could even be accused of having a guiding principle.

Anyway, I just finished Day 20. And it was a hard day to close out.

I woke up early, got showered and dressed, poured half a cup of coffee down the hatch and then left the house with my 14 year old son. It was a brisk winter morning, cold but not unbearably so. We got on the public transit together; he would be getting off at his regular stop to go to school and I would be continuing on downtown. My destination: my initial intake drop-in appointment with Addiction Services.

The initial appointment didn’t take all that long, I filled out some paperwork and talked to an advisor who gave me a list of groups and classes and programs to get into before taking the next step.

I left there feeling powerful and strong and in control. I maintained that feeling until the afternoon. It was quiet; my wife was still sleeping, my kids are at school and everything that’s on TV is shit. I’m bored and I’m coming off that endorphin high.

One thing that I’ve learned about myself is that with every major extroverted expenditure of emotion I have, be it joy or rage or love or frustration, the event ultimately leaves me in an emotional deficit. I become quiet, introverted… and then the dark thoughts enter.

At this point, I haven’t quite wanted a drink yet… but I’m feeling uncomfortable. Kind of like I’m a bit stir crazy and maybe thinking a little too much. The boredom doesn’t help. So, I channel flip and grow slightly anxious. I clean up and rearrange the desk in the Man Room to keep my head and body busy. My MacBook Pro gets set into place. So far, it’s working.

The kids get home from school and the wife wakes up; there is a whole bunch of coming and going with everyone that doesn’t include me until everyone is gone for the evening. The younger two boys make their way home together via public transit around 10:30pm. During that time on my own, I’d drank two cans of Dr. Pepper, watched the Detroit Red Wings beat the Edmonton Oilers in overtime, cursed out my Apple TV and watched episodes 1 and 2 from season 2 of The Strain on my MacBook. 

(The Strain was supposed to be FX’s answer to AMC’s The Walking Dead, which it fails miserably at. Taking it out of that context, however, it’s not half bad.)

Anyway, during the whole day there are tons of commercials for Molson Canadian, Coors Light, Budweiser, Gibson’s Finest, Crown Royal, Ketel One and programming showing people drinking straight vodka or Scotch out of refined glasses during what is a burgeoning apocalypse. I don’t think you realize how much is there until you’re trying to ignore it. 

For me, the advertising and seeing people drink in shows doesn’t seem to affect Me yet. It’s the boredom. It’s the loneliness. It’s the seeming lack of purpose that drives me to want a drink. That feeling I had all afternoon and into the evening. I acknowledged that I could walk to the liquor store and buy a bottle or a case of beer. But what would have been the purpose? What would be the end game for that? What would be the gain?

I couldn’t figure it out so I went to bed and started writing this post. Because I need to tell someone. Even if I don’t know you. 

 

Out of joint.

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It’s called a Posterior Dislocation. 

Basically, the upper joint on my humerus was forced out of its socket in the shoulder towards the back rather than out the front like the majority of dislocations tend to occur. I can’t say from personal experience whether one is more painful than the other as this is the first time I’ve ever dislocated my shoulder. All I can say is that it hurt… A LOT.

The real question is with respect to the severity of the damage I’ve done. Have I torn my rotator cuff? Only an MRI will tell me and that’s something that I’m booked in for tomorrow evening. From there, I find out if I have to go under the knife to repair it. The suspense is killing me, I swear. 

Ten Days Sober

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I’ve finished ten days of sobriety. Admittedly, I’m an alcoholic and it took a 36+ hour bender followed by a withdrawal seizure where I dislocated my arm in the process to commit me to sobriety. Granted, I’m off work right now on short term disability however things have been going well on my recovery. Going back to work will be the real test of my fortitude but, at this moment, I feel liberated. I feel like I’ve cast off the shackles that alcoholism has clasped around my ankles and wrists. It feels really positive. 

Take The Pain Away

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Just over ten months ago, I was involved in an automobile accident. More precisely, I was rear-ended by a truck travelling at a high rate of speed on the freeway heading home from work. Another truck had lost a load of insulation on the freeway ahead which caused traffic to slow to a crawl.

I was driving my 2014 Mazda 3 Sport that I’d owned for approximately 9 months. I slowed down to match the rate of speed of the rest of traffic ahead of me however the truck behind me did not. The truck impacted my car sending me into the rear end of the truck in front of me and then careening off into the ditch.

My car was damaged beyond repair. The trunk and back seat were flattened to the point of being non-existent and the front end was pushed in approximately six inches as a result of the impact with the truck in front of me.

Fire crews and paramedics arrived on the scene within minutes. As they were unable to ascertain whether or not I had a spinal cord injury as a result of the violent collision, the proceeded with caution and opted to use the Jaws Of Life to cut my now demolished Mazda apart to extract me from it. I was then carefully lifted onto a spinal board where they immobilized me before lifting me into the awaiting ambulance.

I was taken to the hospital for an X-ray and kept under observation for a couple of hours. After my doctor reviewed my X-ray results, he deemed me to have no spinal cord injuries and he released me. This would begin the long process of rehab; nurses at the hospital advised me that the immediate pain would subside over a couple of days and that I’d probably experience soreness and aching that would last for some time.

I went through months of rehab that would often leave me with an aching neck or shoulders as well as a headache… but as the saying goes, “no pain, no gain.”

Eventually, my insurance company would cut off my rehab appointments. And, at first, I felt ok and my neck did not feel too bad. I was optimistic about my long term prognosis!

Over the past two weeks, however, this optimism has faded. This past two weeks have been… painful. I don’t want to call it ‘agonizing’ as this would be melodramatic but having a persistent headache and daily neck pain changes my day to day outlook.

I’ve come to grips with the fact that, as a result of this accident, I will never be the same and will require constant rehab to stave off headaches as well as neck and shoulder pain. How I’m going to pay for it, however… that’s another issue.

Talk Like A Pirate Day Is Coming

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September 19th. It’s marked in my calendar and I’ve been celebrating it for years now. I am well known amongst my friends for starting to talk like a pirate when I get drunk. To be fair, I break into accents quite often and even moreso if I’ve got a few beers under my belt.

My friend, Trev, emailed me to remind me that TLAPD is coming this Saturday. I replied to this email with:

Yer spewin bilge bout this scallywag fergettin TLAPD, ye best belay that talk! This old coat’s been on th’ account since ye’s were a wee landlubber! By th’ stars, TLAPD be fallin on Saturn’s Day meanin t’is time t’ go ashore, splice he mainbrace and get loaded to th’ gunwales!! Yarrr!!

He could only reply, exasperated, with:

Thordamnit… (He’s of Nordic descent.)

After trading these emails, I felt that I should share this with my girl. And then, this exchange happened:

Her: Holy fuck I wish I had that kind of talent. LOL

Me: And, somehow, I’m not getting paid to do this.

Her: You’re looking for work in the wrong industry. Pirate Porn. You need to look into a career in Pirate Porn.

Me: Yarr!! Ye likes that, ye buxom wench? Ar, t’is me yardarm lass. Be ye ready t’scrape the barnacles from’ me hull? Yarrrrr….

Her: See?!?

Me: LOL I only wish T’would be a salty dog’s dream come true.

So my question NOW is… how do you get into Pirate Porn?

I Got A Tent… And Not In My Pants, Either!

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There comes a time in every man’s summer where he just needs to get the fuck out of town, go somewhere remote and live like a complete savage for a few days. Eating food cooked over an open fire that he built with his own hands (newspaper and lighter fluid optional), hiking to beautiful natural sights, getting some dirt under his fingernails and maybe, if he’s lucky, taking a shit in the woods.

Yes, I’m talking about camping.

And let me tell you, I’m way past due for a vacation. I’ve been slugging it out at work for about two years with very little extended vacation time taken. Getting iMessages from my friend and former colleague who left the company at the end of June and took all of July off (half of it in his hometown of Kelowna, British Columbia) isn’t helping soothe my itch to commune with nature. I mean, good for him but… hey, what about good for me?

I have a couple of days booked around a weekend in August in which to vacation with a campsite booked in the Western Alberta interior on the peninsula jutting into a lake. It’s actually more of a large reservoir created by the construction of a dam way back in the day but only time will tell if this was a huge mistake or not. Review will be pending.

Last year, we hit up Fish Lake campground on Shunda Lake near Nordegg in September and, if it wouldn’t have been so fucking cold at night… the whole trip would have been glorious. Plus, the dog loved it. We’ll see how this new spot compares.

So here we are. 

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In Canada, it’s the Victoria Day long weekend. Today is Sunday and I’m on my back yard deck getting shitcanned in the sun because… well, I can. 

A lot of people opt to camp on the May long weekend. Particularly in Canada… this is our first decent opportunity to escape the bonds of winter and really live it up. Granted, it’s not a California summer here yet but we Canadians are an exuberant group and want to celebrate (nicely) whenever we can. 

Even when the lakes and the night might be cold enough to make your testicles retract into your body in ways you haven’t known in 20+ years. We are still out there. Because we love to party and enjoy the weather. 

However, I am not camping. Obviously. I just said so…. weren’t you paying attention? Anyway, I am looking to book campsites for the upcoming season to camp on because spots fill up fast. 

I long to escape from this existence. 

No Safety Anywhere

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Last night, my friends and next door neighbours were victims of a violent home invasion last night. They are your average married couple with four young children and were enjoying a quiet night at home. Mr A was outside having a cigar and a vehicle drove up onto their back parking pad and started to try and make their way into the yard. He tried to prevent them from entering which is where I’d assume he got the butt of a gun to the face. They kicked the back door of the house in, dragged Mr A inside and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him in front of Mrs A who was holding their baby. 

One of the most unfortunate parts of this is that this was a total case of mistaken identity. They were looking for drugs, thinking the A’s house was a drug house. What the police told us was that this may have been a gang type drug attack. Rather than go and buy their drugs to sell, sometimes these jackasses will raid another known drug house and steal the drugs. Obviously, these guys were dumber than shit and took a wrong turn somewhere thinking that this house was a drug house.

Luckily (or unluckily in a way) their two year old daughter walked down the stairs to the living room where the A’s were being assaulted and it was then that these fucking douchebags finally realize they have the wrong house. So they bail out of the house, jump in their vehicle and screw off. If she hadn’t come down, who knows what would have happened. The A’s could be dead right now.

Mr A was a bloody mess and taken away by ambulance to the hospital. Mrs A had dropped their four children off with me and my two sons to keep them occupied and cared. It’s honestly been years since I’ve held a baby. But in the meantime, family members were showing up to our house and the non-stop parade of police officers through my house asking questions of Mrs A about the events of the evening. My boys were a big help though.

The grandparents showed up and took the four kids home with them at 2:00 am so I had a chance to go and look for their dog who was scared out of the house when these thugs kicked the door in. I was out walking all of the paths and popular dog spots that I know of in our neighbourhood but didn’t have any luck. I was out for over an hour and lost my shoes in some mud which forced me to walk home with mud covered bare feet on rock covered road for about 5 blocks. I felt like a hobbit but I got off lucky in comparison. Anyway, as of now, she still remains missing.

I made my way home to shut the back door of their house, the forensic team was done and the police needed to make sure the house was secure before leaving the scene. I grabbed my drill and toolbox and screwed a 2×4 over the door and busted up door frame to close the door solidly. When I stepped downstairs into the living room, I was stunned. The floor in their living room was smeared with his blood all over. Mr A lost a lot of blood and it was everywhere; smeared over a big area, with pools of blood here and there, blood spatters on the wall, on the sofa, all over the kid’s toys.

Mr A is afraid to see his kids and scare them with his condition. He took over 100 stitches to his head and face to close up the wounds and I’m sure he had a lot of scratches and extensive bruising. I haven’t seen him yet either. But the kids are worried about him so I’m sure they will be together very soon and start to heal as a family. Our household will do everything we can to support them too.