tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36514968509526006222024-03-13T11:23:43.061-06:00Richard Is Living With ALSMy name is Richard McBride and I have ALS. I was diagnosed in November 2012 at 57 years of age. This blog will cover my journey. Just remember, I am living with ALS, not dying from it.
**Richard passed away 9/26/18 naturally, and NOT from ALS - he beat that sucker!!**Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.comBlogger2071125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-73551248790119699392020-07-21T18:00:00.000-06:002020-07-21T18:00:07.005-06:00<span style="font-size: large;">Today marks Richard's 65th birthday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In his last birthday post (<a href="https://richardislivingwithals.blogspot.com/2018/07/happy-birthday-to-me.html">HERE</a>) he wondered if he would make it to 64, seeing as he'd already beaten a few odds by lasting a couple of years longer than expected.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Regrettably, he did not make it to 64.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since his diagnosis, he tried to live as though every day was his last, and 'the gang' had a great time doing it with him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We know he had a good time during those last couple of years - we know all too well, he had some bad times, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">But if I learned anything from his ALS days, it's to enjoy the moment, whatever that moment is offering.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Birthday, Big Guy!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-87714440977488736672019-08-26T17:25:00.001-06:002019-08-26T17:25:21.796-06:00Reflections on Road Trips, Part DeuxHi again - it's David...<br />
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I have arrived home today, after a little travelling the mid-USA, visiting parents in Ontario, and covering some of the ground that Richard and I never got around to.<br />
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As noted in prior posts, I have decided to post here, those trips or facts of interest that would have Richard in my thoughts. I hope you don't mind.<br />
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If you were a reader/friend of Richard's, you'll appreciate some of my day-tripping journals over the next few days.<br />
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If you've arrived to this blog for the first time - you are probably new to ALS and found it through a web search or reference; Richard is no longer with us, but you should go back to the very beginning of his blog and read through it. Inspiring, real, sometimes gritty; he never pulled his punches when talking about it. Since he passed away in Sept/2018, I have posted a few things here & there, essentially on his behalf, but wholly in his memory.<br />
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Facebook has reminded me that today marks the 5th anniversary of Day One of Richard's and my FIRST road trip (see Richard's post from that day here - https://richardislivingwithals.blogspot.com/2014/08/not-this-trip.html).<br />
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It seems a lifetime ago.<br />
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Once I catch up on some sleep, I'll talk more about the last 5 years, and the last 18 days.<br />
<br />David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-21882351524909669972019-05-30T21:28:00.000-06:002019-05-30T21:29:58.064-06:00Betty's Run... Walk... Hop, Skip, Jump... Wheel, Skate, Drag or Roll... is here again!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's almost June, and that means it's almost time for Betty's Run - Calgary's annual ALS Society fundraising charity walk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For awareness, thanks if you share with your friends, and more thanks if you donate to the cause - here's <a href="https://secure.e2rm.com/registrant/FundraisingPage.aspx?registrationID=4494409&langPref=en-CA">the link to my (David's) fundraising page for this year's run</a> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Summer is almost here - 3 weeks, according to the Farmer's Almanac and most modern calendars.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Summer means different things to different people - to some it's 3 months away from school, to others it's a period of swimming, backyard BBQs and sunny road trips.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'm planning my next road trip for late-summer - most of August, actually.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">I'll be crossing from Calgary into Montana and heading eastwards across the northern US - a route that Richard and I didn't make the last time we tried it - we'd had 18 or so days together, and that last morning, with 4 days remaining in the plan, we decided that the snow & cold (it was Feb 2017) was just a bit too much to spend 3 more days doing the Dakotas. "We can always do them next time," we agreed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Well, next time came the following year, and somehow we traded the Dakotas for the Isles... the British Isles... and instead of Mount Rushmore's Presidential heads, we visited the Loch Ness Monster, the Titanic and the birthplace of Richard's grandfather & family.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">So in August I will do the Dakotas - much of it in Richard's memory.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">It won't just be for him, though - I'll spend a few days in southern Ontario (Toronto-area) visiting family, before heading back - about 3,000 miles each way.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">I hope to find a good travelling companion for the trip, or at least part of it - 3 weeks off work doesn't come easy to many, and I expect to work a day or two during that time, remotely from wherever I am.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">But it will be a road trip - a road trip that encompasses the final bit of 'unfinished business' in the road trip draft plans in my files.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I feel somewhat obligated to post here about it, as he would have done.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">So touch base here around Labour Day - I should have something written about the trip and how Richard might have felt about it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">In the meantime, enjoy your summer, whatever you're doing!!</span></span></div>
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David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-16842022742092574992019-04-30T12:00:00.000-06:002019-04-30T18:24:51.641-06:00Delight Mid the Doughty"The Seafarer"<br />
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An Old English poem giving a first-person account of a man alone on the sea.<br />
Considered a reflection on spirituality.<br />
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Written a millenium ago, it was first (known to be) published in the Exeter Book, a manuscript of Old English poetry, recognized as one of the "world's principal cultural artifacts," dating from the late 900s AD.<br />
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Translations abound, the last century seeing many poets referring their own comprehension of its meaning - many words' true meanings being lost to history, and phrases sounding nonsensical to the modern ear.<br />
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I don't know if Richard knew the verse verbatim - it wouldn't surprise me if he could recite it - possibly some in the original Old English; I'm certain he was familiar with it, though.<br />
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He loved the sea, and loved being on it.<br />
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It is fitting, then, that on Saturday his ashes were scattered to sea, in Horseshoe Bay, Vancouver, as he had always wanted.<br />
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His pals Chris and Chris took Richard's four kids - Meghan, Mary, Kate & Rick - out around noon and said their last goodbyes.<br />
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Richard passed away 7 months ago.<br />
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Time does not dilute the memories; if anything, it brings them more in focus, recalling the good times, and the bad, reflecting on the changes to one's life that another person's simple existence can make. <br />
His existence changed me, that's for sure- for the better, I like to think.<br />
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His truck was sold this week, almost the last of his affairs now put in order.<br />
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There's no more to do at his apartment now - it stays on sale in a soft market - but I have nothing to offer on that front; the realtor is the last man standing in this case. In fact, one more check for un-forwarded mail, and I'll be dropping off the keys with the building super.</div>
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We will always miss him; those who knew him, up close, from afar, and online as many of you.<br />
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The Calgary 'Gang' will gather now & then, raising a glass to his memory. He was the glue that held us together. We needed him then, and in some ways, need him now.<br />
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So we will do the annual Betty's Run (the local version of the annual ALS fundraising walk/run) in June, as we've done for 6 years now.<br />
But without Richard leading the pack, there will be two differences:<br />
First, we'll move faster!!<br />
Second, there will be more pizza for the rest of us when we have food & drink afterwards.<br />
I hope we will continue this tradition - both the walk, and the pizza!</div>
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I don't know if any particular words were said at Horseshoe Bay.</div>
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There would be reason to say something deep and meaningful; but also reason to stand in silence for a moment.</div>
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I took a moment to reflect, and raised a glass myself that night.</div>
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<b>The Seafarer. Ezra Pound translation, 1911.</b><br />
<br /><i>"May I for my own self song's truth reckon,<br />Journey's jargon, how I in harsh days<br />Hardship endured oft.<br />Bitter breast-cares have I abided,<br />Known on my keel many a care's hold,<br />And dire sea-surge, and there I oft spent<br />Narrow nightwatch nigh the ship's head<br />While she tossed close to cliffs. Coldly afflicted,<br />My feet were by frost benumbed.<br />Chill its chains are; chafing sighs<br />Hew my heart round and hunger begot<br />Mere-weary mood. Lest man know not<br />That he on dry land loveliest liveth,<br />List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea,<br />Weathered the winter, wretched outcast<br />Deprived of my kinsmen;<br />Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew,<br />There I heard naught save the harsh sea<br />And ice-cold wave, at whiles the swan cries,<br />Did for my games the gannet's clamour,<br />Sea-fowls, loudness was for me laughter,<br />The mews' singing all my mead-drink.<br />Storms, on the stone-cliffs beaten, fell on the stern<br />In icy feathers; full oft the eagle screamed<br />With spray on his pinion.<br />Not any protector<br />May make merry man faring needy.<br />This he little believes, who aye in winsome life<br />Abides 'mid burghers some heavy business,<br />Wealthy and wine-flushed, how I weary oft<br />Must bide above brine.<br />Neareth nightshade, snoweth from north,<br />Frost froze the land, hail fell on earth then<br />Corn of the coldest. Nathless there knocketh now<br />The heart's thought that I on high streams<br />The salt-wavy tumult traverse alone.<br />Moaneth alway my mind's lust<br />That I fare forth, that I afar hence<br />Seek out a foreign fastness.<br />For this there's no mood-lofty man over earth's midst,<br />Not though he be given his good, but will have in his youth greed;<br />Nor his deed to the daring, nor his king to the faithful<br />But shall have his sorrow for sea-fare<br />Whatever his lord will.<br />He hath not heart for harping, nor in ring-having<br />Nor winsomeness to wife, nor world's delight<br />Nor any whit else save the wave's slash,<br />Yet longing comes upon him to fare forth on the water.<br />Bosque taketh blossom, cometh beauty of berries,<br />Fields to fairness, land fares brisker,<br />All this admonisheth man eager of mood,<br />The heart turns to travel so that he then thinks<br />On flood-ways to be far departing.<br />Cuckoo calleth with gloomy crying,<br />He singeth summerward, bodeth sorrow,<br />The bitter heart's blood. Burgher knows not --<br />He the prosperous man -- what some perform<br />Where wandering them widest draweth.<br />So that but now my heart burst from my breast-lock,<br />My mood 'mid the mere-flood,<br />Over the whale's acre, would wander wide.<br />On earth's shelter cometh oft to me,<br />Eager and ready, the crying lone-flyer,<br />Whets for the whale-path the heart irresistibly,<br />O'er tracks of ocean; seeing that anyhow<br />My lord deems to me this dead life<br />On loan and on land, I believe not<br />That any earth-weal eternal standeth<br />Save there be somewhat calamitous<br />That, ere a man's tide go, turn it to twain.<br />Disease or oldness or sword-hate<br />Beats out the breath from doom-gripped body.<br />And for this, every earl whatever, for those speaking after --<br />Laud of the living, boasteth some last word,<br />That he will work ere he pass onward,<br />Frame on the fair earth 'gainst foes his malice,<br />Daring ado, ...<br />So that all men shall honour him after<br />And his laud beyond them remain 'mid the English,<br />Aye, for ever, a lasting life's-blast,<br />Delight mid the doughty.<br />Days little durable,<br />And all arrogance of earthen riches,<br />There come now no kings nor Cæsars<br />Nor gold-giving lords like those gone.<br />Howe'er in mirth most magnified,<br />Whoe'er lived in life most lordliest,<br />Drear all this excellence, delights undurable!<br />Waneth the watch, but the world holdeth.<br />Tomb hideth trouble. The blade is layed low.<br />Earthly glory ageth and seareth.<br />No man at all going the earth's gait,<br />But age fares against him, his face paleth,<br />Grey-haired he groaneth, knows gone companions,<br />Lordly men are to earth o'ergiven,<br />Nor may he then the flesh-cover, whose life ceaseth,<br />Nor eat the sweet nor feel the sorry,<br />Nor stir hand nor think in mid heart,<br />And though he strew the grave with gold,<br />His born brothers, their buried bodies<br />Be an unlikely treasure hoard.</i><br />
<i>Amen."</i><br />
<br />David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-441561059044624782019-02-04T14:17:00.000-07:002019-02-04T17:45:21.919-07:00Reflections on Road Trips<div style="color: #343434; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 22px; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: large;"><b>Road Tripping without Richard - it’ll never be the same…</b></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">***I must apologize for the awful formatting of this post. Photos don't sit well on this platform, and the result looks NOTHING like the even, neatly-laid-out columns I painstakingly created. :) ***</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">I took a road trip in January - the first road trip without Richard as my co-pilot.<br />I had intended to post this on my return, but realized that if I waited for (today), it would be exactly 2 years since we set off for Louisiana to see his brother Adam. I thought it fitting to post this today, as you'll see shortly.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">My mother just turned 75. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">Naturally, she being halfway across country, I planned to make the trek to be there for her birthday.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">The question was; do I just fly back or take a road trip/vacation? Richard and I had spoken of driving down there for the birthday - they'd spoken a couple of times on the phone - with a live-in caregiver aboard, taking half the driving off my shoulders, it would have been a nice trip, for the both (or maybe, all) of us.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">I didn’t want to reach out to friends for a road trip, during which I’d be taking off on my own for several days; and besides, I got a new car just a few weeks before - it was a good opportunity to run it in & see how it travels.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">So with a little Travelocity searching, I found reasonable airfare to Toronto from (of all places) Boise, Idaho the day before her birthday, and worked out a road plan to get there just in time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">It’s somewhat bittersweet that the route I chose would take me almost entirely over roads that Richard and I had driven in the past - we scoured the western US in August of 2014, and much of the western third of the US in February of 2017 (this is the trip we began 2 years ago today); and this trip would cover just a few new roads for me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">But part of this decision was to reflect on the good times, and good drives, that Richard and I had done before. Memories of stops we made then, coupled with some new memories of stops I could now make on my own, gave me both familiarity and comfort, and new discoveries. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">So on a Saturday morning, I loaded up the RAV4 and set off on a (only-slightly-new) adventure, wearing the sweatshirt Richard bought at Trinity College, Dublin when we went there in June of 2017.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;"> </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">I thought it fitting to wear something that would keep his memory close.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">Just across the border that afternoon, I detoured to Cut Bank to see the “Coldest Spot in the Nation” - a claim hotly (or coldly?) disputed by at least a few other US towns - but none of them have a talking penguin, so I found this a two-for-one stop to make!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">Richard wouldn’t have cared for a Penguin selfie, but I would have driven the vehicle around to get him beside it, like it or not!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAIWgT067EsT6pZvLKDYvC1KxXDHmD61yZ9Jr3f8TROmRf6ywBIaB5tHqmRpi3a4xSxv95-ivKOuw3C7gobkqqJTHthOasDfeVXVTJkh4_AdpPUXpNXiY-5uIJmAzTK-Nt4b5eRgNHR8/s1600/2019-01-06+-+Lewis+%2526+Clark+Motel+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAIWgT067EsT6pZvLKDYvC1KxXDHmD61yZ9Jr3f8TROmRf6ywBIaB5tHqmRpi3a4xSxv95-ivKOuw3C7gobkqqJTHthOasDfeVXVTJkh4_AdpPUXpNXiY-5uIJmAzTK-Nt4b5eRgNHR8/s320/2019-01-06+-+Lewis+%2526+Clark+Motel+4.jpg" width="240" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">Further
south, into Bozeman, MT towards day’s end, I found (we both WOULD have
agreed) the brewery district where we could get a sampler flight of good
craft beer and a really bad burger.</span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Regrettably, they offered none of this serving size once you got inside the door.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-size: small;">The Lewis and Clark Motel would have thrilled Richard’s sense of history - being along their Trail and all - and he’d have enjoyed the sizeable rooms & quaint lobby area.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_BoVYnjwkqgY1Bmq18hKg7MaW_QFyFEC96WpE74_Yh3xwje1IWiu__DhYAsCtrVYeTTGl-4IONP2hKwDJqbUs09EBb5JuStx2-RDUKDTKbbqQHYHvXcpAP487mXbY9kcxsieWYAStKI/s1600/2019-01-06+-+Lewis+%2526+Clark+Motel+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH_BoVYnjwkqgY1Bmq18hKg7MaW_QFyFEC96WpE74_Yh3xwje1IWiu__DhYAsCtrVYeTTGl-4IONP2hKwDJqbUs09EBb5JuStx2-RDUKDTKbbqQHYHvXcpAP487mXbY9kcxsieWYAStKI/s320/2019-01-06+-+Lewis+%2526+Clark+Motel+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="about:invalid#zClosurez" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/6736e695-c01c-4fe2-a42c-aa576780c4ad" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;">We never made it to the Computer Museum in Bozeman, MT during our prior trips, so I made that a priority this time, as it’s hyped as one of the best little museums of computer culture in the country - and I must agree. It’s actually the American Computer and Robotics Museum, which is why I have a photo of me with an original Robbie the Robot! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Here, Richard would have loved the various sci-fi icons around the walls, and technology on display. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigI2WXAJgJpPONA8DGbzyGtn8UvWILjzBcdLG6xWwZzBTslIdPIWzlhKK8OZFn7uS6pJkHIBTdkP9nwu0j4Iy8CNwng_eRfrRDjESza4Pxu41sFSUs9ZorFWvoeosFuW4tVmCnZ6sVeHg/s1600/2019-01-06+-+American+Computer+Museum+46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigI2WXAJgJpPONA8DGbzyGtn8UvWILjzBcdLG6xWwZzBTslIdPIWzlhKK8OZFn7uS6pJkHIBTdkP9nwu0j4Iy8CNwng_eRfrRDjESza4Pxu41sFSUs9ZorFWvoeosFuW4tVmCnZ6sVeHg/s320/2019-01-06+-+American+Computer+Museum+46.jpg" width="238" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="about:invalid#zClosurez" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/98d41158-5629-4f63-8e2c-ed7724cce230" /></a><span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxkVmJHCEF0_qKJ5gO3JY9wUmzpE89t4RY2E-n63MagNFrEZi57-CEunL3LkV4kO7mGTrNL0Xerhzz6qkbfSoDzW11cbSwaVv5h5AUFiPjOg53uY8B0RQYIuTCPveS62m4NdZNkKR3yM/s1600/2019-01-07+-+13-43-56+-+Red+Iguana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxkVmJHCEF0_qKJ5gO3JY9wUmzpE89t4RY2E-n63MagNFrEZi57-CEunL3LkV4kO7mGTrNL0Xerhzz6qkbfSoDzW11cbSwaVv5h5AUFiPjOg53uY8B0RQYIuTCPveS62m4NdZNkKR3yM/s320/2019-01-07+-+13-43-56+-+Red+Iguana.jpg" width="238" /></a><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-kerning: none;">Nearby, a Mexican restaurant's mascot, the Red Iguana "doesn’t care for selfies" as he glowers disapprovingly from the parking lot. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">But he was behind a fence, so I felt safe enough.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Then on to Salt Lake City, UT - where we had spent a couple of days previously - I spent some time at the Mormon’s Family History Library doing some family history research - and the rest just driving around as a restful do-nothing-specific kind of stop.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="about:invalid#zClosurez" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/4dbd3247-8eeb-416f-8235-dcacb8715a80" /></a><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">Finding the very first Kentucky Fried Chicken was a surprise - but fortunately, they’ve updated their original menu to keep up with the times. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: initial;">A quick shot of me, the Colonel and the actual secret-herbs-and-spices inventor Mr.Harman, and I was ready to move on.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqDdE4S1rX9BYm5OroLYvHiLkYrgDOkobkyxlpoKBDRHA79zYJMM0SDfelLkakWHursmsuZh8Z-m6jrQ0PRHeZtcWwqUPu5T-qj0-0CO1_tTRq4M5WX2aqAYSQM9moN9j-LzqkV8J66Q/s1600/2019-01-08+-+13-06-15+-+Harman%2527s+Cafe%255EKFC+%25231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqDdE4S1rX9BYm5OroLYvHiLkYrgDOkobkyxlpoKBDRHA79zYJMM0SDfelLkakWHursmsuZh8Z-m6jrQ0PRHeZtcWwqUPu5T-qj0-0CO1_tTRq4M5WX2aqAYSQM9moN9j-LzqkV8J66Q/s320/2019-01-08+-+13-06-15+-+Harman%2527s+Cafe%255EKFC+%25231.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">At an ungodly hour for a vacation day, I rose to drive the nearly-2-hours to Bonneville to get a sunrise photo at the Salt Flats, before testing the upper limits of the RAV4. Regrettably, the big winter blizzard that tore </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">down
the region several days before had left enough water to make them
un-driveable, and I couldn’t* test the performance - although we did so with Richard's truck last time.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOcSI0RZ3I6ULr9q3tJVBKakN1uRi0GJoykowPcv3_-IiWuv3YMDL-6wOiYpXhUlRa3C7R67VkMQ7z6kRQyi4-w9KWETblMajyJm_ArDUPwzTFtyrWa1-1PGtTwtlBZ7Z1CrDjtLh2HM/s1600/2019-01-10+-+Bonneville+Salt+Flats+at+Sunrise+10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOcSI0RZ3I6ULr9q3tJVBKakN1uRi0GJoykowPcv3_-IiWuv3YMDL-6wOiYpXhUlRa3C7R67VkMQ7z6kRQyi4-w9KWETblMajyJm_ArDUPwzTFtyrWa1-1PGtTwtlBZ7Z1CrDjtLh2HM/s320/2019-01-10+-+Bonneville+Salt+Flats+at+Sunrise+10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">(*Mom was quite content
to have just the sunrise pics and not any speed-running video this time!) </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">The sunrise was un-spectacular in photos, but the 10-minutes before shots seem to have turned out quite nicely.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcL844yz07XPwyIhkduL5hD87BTdW9HD9SMPBfo-fTGWshOgMISO_v7OReCIuRInAaVUEVLPX7aLqJ9AbXhGIVQ-9XK54DTtaygeV4bWbXr7YaSeZ8HbH7Eor0j8KcT3Ksg4jL39fdlk/s1600/2019-01-10+-+Bonneville+Salt+Flats+at+Sunrise+13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwcL844yz07XPwyIhkduL5hD87BTdW9HD9SMPBfo-fTGWshOgMISO_v7OReCIuRInAaVUEVLPX7aLqJ9AbXhGIVQ-9XK54DTtaygeV4bWbXr7YaSeZ8HbH7Eor0j8KcT3Ksg4jL39fdlk/s320/2019-01-10+-+Bonneville+Salt+Flats+at+Sunrise+13.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">North from Bonneville, through the NE corner of Nevada and into Idaho, to Twin Falls - home of Evel Knievel’s Snake River Canyon Jump attempt. Unfortunately, the road down to the actual location seems closed in winter, as we didn’t make it 2 years ago, and I couldn’t get there this time either. Perhaps the next summer trip.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS30X9LxYvEFTHEYn8_gJwZmRSb5l-95ch-Rh5dL1OcwTK_vycFB2LZb4goXQUmjs5xyXC4YlY_lIsR_9BuO3G6f6GQWF1Jp2nxGNZdTgWUP1f0XZOOJmYEKfKZcObSDWB7HWT1dAVsTA/s1600/2019-01-10+-+Snake+River+Canyon+03.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS30X9LxYvEFTHEYn8_gJwZmRSb5l-95ch-Rh5dL1OcwTK_vycFB2LZb4goXQUmjs5xyXC4YlY_lIsR_9BuO3G6f6GQWF1Jp2nxGNZdTgWUP1f0XZOOJmYEKfKZcObSDWB7HWT1dAVsTA/s320/2019-01-10+-+Snake+River+Canyon+03.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiK5NlrIF7rxLD07z-cd6qiOvZOx5vDmeX_cA_1JxUhMk8EpqiHYVO4K9wG_x-Aes5Y5ZYp7tJs9D2Saof3smCFCmi1Qa3thadS8B7mnkABd1O_OLdtOTRNhxtPuYMl5_iZRKjc6g74Q4/s1600/2019-01-10+-+Snake+River+Canyon+05.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiK5NlrIF7rxLD07z-cd6qiOvZOx5vDmeX_cA_1JxUhMk8EpqiHYVO4K9wG_x-Aes5Y5ZYp7tJs9D2Saof3smCFCmi1Qa3thadS8B7mnkABd1O_OLdtOTRNhxtPuYMl5_iZRKjc6g74Q4/s320/2019-01-10+-+Snake+River+Canyon+05.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></span></div>
<div style="color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">This time, I made do with a quick stop at the Visitor's Centre, next to the Snake River Bridge, where I saw the last couple of a group of base-jumpers tempting fate by dropping off a perfectly good iron railing & into thin air with nothing but a strip of fabric, string & a lot of hope, to keep them safe.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">One
last trek for this leg - to Boise for the night, then an uneventful
morning flight to Chicago, where the next leg saw a jet fuel spill on
the gateway next to us, delaying our departure by an hour. It looked
like a scene straight out of Die Hard 2! </span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12px;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23EWgiiVjQzsNVN3xmzsVU19zkg6_quMQgyqpOrYVREq-oB2T4kz8nzXkoxrSDCoGmf3IaKvLWUvf-mfe95Zzyzl1q_KnlQdambdO95BJuIosTud8JYdSyy5aCm5kQHIxn8y1nGEDB30/s1600/2019-01-11+-+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23EWgiiVjQzsNVN3xmzsVU19zkg6_quMQgyqpOrYVREq-oB2T4kz8nzXkoxrSDCoGmf3IaKvLWUvf-mfe95Zzyzl1q_KnlQdambdO95BJuIosTud8JYdSyy5aCm5kQHIxn8y1nGEDB30/s320/2019-01-11+-+03.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">David's delay in Chicago</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVCn2vcUu2i1NQ8BrtpoujG0xBEZIFjxhCKKbUsG3LTZKrFWFgWHibVunB_IrPEayXMRCeAdF5_oYuQ8qXWN3zhmc9p8KQe8NbE82Arr9Sz3oX0_VJvn8hthcC7nDOch7MVBwln1JT3E/s1600/dir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVCn2vcUu2i1NQ8BrtpoujG0xBEZIFjxhCKKbUsG3LTZKrFWFgWHibVunB_IrPEayXMRCeAdF5_oYuQ8qXWN3zhmc9p8KQe8NbE82Arr9Sz3oX0_VJvn8hthcC7nDOch7MVBwln1JT3E/s320/dir.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Die Hard 2: Die Harder</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">However, I got home just fine - and thanks to a silly time-zone mis-calculation, arrived exactly when I had intended, stayed with a friend that night, got to Mom’s the next morning, and a good weekend was had by all.</span></span></div>
<div style="color: #1a1a1a; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">It's very different driving alone than with a friend - I suppose I expected as much - and it will never be the same with anyone else. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">It's not, of course, just the drive time. I'd done much of the driving 2 years ago, and all of it on the summer trip to the UK. It's the quiet, the lack of conversation, that got to me this time.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">Richard always had something to say - sometimes useful, sometimes not, sometimes entertaining, but I was never really aware of how quiet it could be until I told myself (sometimes out loud!) "Oh, right, this is where so-and-so got scalped" or "I remember this plain from that trip" or even "Oh, yeah, that place had good french fries" because I recalled these Richard had said or done, from the last trip down here.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">One unexpected smile was when I passed this sign in Idaho on the last leg home - Richard had nicknamed the wheelchair van "Lucille" in a nod to B.B. King's guitar (the story of the name here - <a href="https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Lucille_(guitar)">https://www.wikiwand.com/en/Lucille_(guitar)</a>), so happening across a roadsign, I had to stop, turn around & get a pic! Richard WOULD have loved it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq1qhwkOWivuDv9WUyZphLmZBYiJ23nbbdQv4cHJeMc2BxdhBAWKlm5Zf8bvgWyL4iz7NyyhMUEHlDqFu5ewB3toYyT0iDhfP2Ej3xfburEMtDjsmwqCmMgpTJeuRHUSuLycrBpGdVtk/s1600/2019-01-16+-+Lady+Liberty+on+the+Lake+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq1qhwkOWivuDv9WUyZphLmZBYiJ23nbbdQv4cHJeMc2BxdhBAWKlm5Zf8bvgWyL4iz7NyyhMUEHlDqFu5ewB3toYyT0iDhfP2Ej3xfburEMtDjsmwqCmMgpTJeuRHUSuLycrBpGdVtk/s320/2019-01-16+-+Lady+Liberty+on+the+Lake+03.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GOOzvPsVbZZMsHBWSMR6OqOW8A4eluTl5ftPk2inrz0VaovbuKw4YCMFDE040KKuK7J4KnyluOLKCpCgh02qVWLWCQeV_BzasoNPA460A-Juq-H_SMe5XZmW1JUkTJ_pOimpYLk9ZP8/s1600/2019-02-15+-+Lucile.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6GOOzvPsVbZZMsHBWSMR6OqOW8A4eluTl5ftPk2inrz0VaovbuKw4YCMFDE040KKuK7J4KnyluOLKCpCgh02qVWLWCQeV_BzasoNPA460A-Juq-H_SMe5XZmW1JUkTJ_pOimpYLk9ZP8/s320/2019-02-15+-+Lucile.jpg" width="320" /></a> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">A world away from New York, I also happened across Lady Liberty (of the Lake) in Idaho; an impractical rush for a wheelchair across a frigid park & out on a concrete pier though, but he would have wanted me to go, so I did.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">On the final stretch, back in Canada, in Sparwood, B.C., I discovered something I doubt either of us knew about (else we'd definitely have stopped on one of the several Vancouver trips) - the "World's Largest Truck" (I think its record been superseded since it was parked, though).</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfez0KlIE8xZ9iOdjIEqZ269mBgee6KgU-jAtF7PVf38A8EUtOEMxeFOrKokoblGED_bCobDWeqkB0TqtpLcAVsYx0XmS-YC15orpKtAtshQ_dOhikNAJ9uDG4istDjhDJ3xX1k7zQ6bk/s1600/2019-01-16+-+Sparwood%252C+BC+-+World%2527s+Largest+Truck+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfez0KlIE8xZ9iOdjIEqZ269mBgee6KgU-jAtF7PVf38A8EUtOEMxeFOrKokoblGED_bCobDWeqkB0TqtpLcAVsYx0XmS-YC15orpKtAtshQ_dOhikNAJ9uDG4istDjhDJ3xX1k7zQ6bk/s320/2019-01-16+-+Sparwood%252C+BC+-+World%2527s+Largest+Truck+01.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbxvS4qcrdceqGA5vgYDvPGdJKB9RdPAdf01gGLXgxIY4xylSHaPHvcCe6XSB0KiEFspV1Xf-0U8i3l_GoUlv3MD8WksYChWZHfsRg8-yDBvS-L9rRTFUTGSlTxhv1UgQwnCu5YwTqMg/s1600/2019-01-16+-+Sparwood%252C+BC+-+World%2527s+Largest+Truck+11.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijbxvS4qcrdceqGA5vgYDvPGdJKB9RdPAdf01gGLXgxIY4xylSHaPHvcCe6XSB0KiEFspV1Xf-0U8i3l_GoUlv3MD8WksYChWZHfsRg8-yDBvS-L9rRTFUTGSlTxhv1UgQwnCu5YwTqMg/s320/2019-01-16+-+Sparwood%252C+BC+-+World%2527s+Largest+Truck+11.jpg" width="238" /></a></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">I'm glad we had the times we did - good and bad - and that we did the things & went the places we did - this trip is dedicated to Richard and his great sense of humour. I hope you enjoyed reading about it, as I enjoyed writing about it.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-kerning: none; font-size: small;">You can reminisce on Richard's musing about our Louisiana road trip by starting on Day One here - <a href="https://richardislivingwithals.blogspot.com/2017/02/road-trip-advice.html">https://richardislivingwithals.blogspot.com/2017/02/road-trip-advice.html</a></span></span><br />
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David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-13841103082828845082019-01-04T21:27:00.000-07:002019-01-06T21:27:40.154-07:00The next road trip will be a little bit lonely***This is David writing, under my own profile now.***<br />
<br />
<br />
I'm going on the road again.<br />
My mother's birthday is next weekend, and I'm off to Toronto to visit.<br />
<br />
I don't have a blog myself, but feel it fitting to post my stories here, as it was Richard who brought the love of the road, into my life.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I have a new car and want to test its mettle by giving it a good drive.<br />
Richard had seen this car in the summer, and approved, so it's fitting I initially write about it here.<br />
<br />
It's just too bad he couldn't come with me this time - but I have a piece of him along for the ride... no, not an actual PIECE of him, but one of his annual ALS Walk (in Alberta, it's Betty's Run) participation medals. It's too big for the rear-view mirror, but it's hanging on the back of the driver's seat. So at least in some way, the big oaf is along for the ride.<br />
<br />
<br />
I scouted the trip as the next trip Richard & I were planning to take - through the northern states (we called it 'the Dakota Trip') to Montana, Wyoming, the Dakotas & areas nearby.<br />
I thought I would extend it to Chicago & around the lake to Toronto.<br />
<br />
However, many of the sites-worth-seeing along the way, are closed during the winter months, so it would be basically 3,600km (2,250 miles) of straight-through - not even Richard, who loved the road, would likely be ready for a bare-bones drive like that with nothing planned to see or do along the way.<br />
<br />
So I scouted possible locations a few days' drive from Calgary (in all directions!) and what airfare to Toronto was like from those areas. For this month, Salt Lake City won out as the place to visit, with Boise, Idaho as the airport of choice.<br />
<br />
I'll drive 2-3 days to Salt Lake City, spend a few days there, zip up to Boise & fly out to see Mom for 3 days, then return & finish the road trip back home.<br />
<br />
Much of this trip will be repetitive - Richard & I have covered the first 3 days' drive, and most of that distance we've done twice(!).<br />
<br />
But this time, I'll do some of the things we didn't do before - either because he had zero interest in somewhere that I wanted to go, or because time didn't allow for the detour.<br />
<br />
<br />
Richard didn't get much into taking photos; he wanted the memories and the experience. But with the ALS giving him an expiry date, I made it a point to get LOTS of photos of him, so his family & friends could remember his experiences even if they weren't there with him,<br />
<br />
I'll share some of my photos here - specifically those where I know Richard would have enjoyed something - and hope you will laugh along...<br />
<br />David_Rhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02795656653475912889noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-65913006977751791252019-01-01T21:01:00.000-07:002019-01-06T21:29:22.785-07:00New Year, New Writings***This is David writing again***<br />
<br />
I wasn't sure how or if we should continue working with this blog; most of Richard's friends & family are on board with occasional posts, to remember him by and to laugh about the good times.<br />
<br />
His family held a memorial service in November in White Rock, BC, where friends & family gathered to share stories, tell tales & raise a glass to him - it was a good afternoon.<br />
<br />
Memories are made to be cherished, and many of those also to be shared.<br />
<br />
Richard would want his memory both cherished and shared... and this is the perfect way to do it.<br />
<br />
I cannot speak as a PALS, of course; the subject matter of any future posts would be of some other nature - Richard-related mostly - so I hope that those who have read his writings in the past, and who know some of the names of future writers - myself, his kids - will enjoy our posts like you enjoyed his.<br />
<br />
So we will keep on keeping on, and post occasional musings, thoughts, and for my own part, road trip stories, remembering him as we go.<br />
<br />
It won't be regular, but hopefully it will be worth checking in on once in a while.<br />
<br />
<br />
-David<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-40578650680244607262018-10-12T16:19:00.000-06:002018-10-12T16:19:00.977-06:00I miss my Dad...**David writing again...<br />
<br />
Richard wrote this back in July.<br />
<br />
It is unfinished, and I don't think it was intended to be a blog post, but it's exactly the sort of thing he'd share, when he was done with it.<br />
<br />
It is somewhat fitting that he writes of missing his Dad, as we miss Richard.<br />
<br />
<br />
"<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">I miss my Dad. I remember so much about him
and often wonder what he would think of this or how he would handle that or
what he would say about the next thing. He was my Dad. He was not perfect; he
was deeply flawed, almost incapable of any emotional connection beyond anger.
Yet he was my father, my Dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">Richard Thomas McBride was born in East
Kildonan, a part of Winnipeg, Manitoba, the center most province in Canada,
equidistant from all three Canadian oceans. Perhaps that is why he was destined
to join the Canadian Navy. Perversity was my Dad’s name just as often as the
name he acquired in the navy, “Mac”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">His birthday was, and still is, October 3,
1930. He was born between the two great wars of the twentieth century, too late
for World War One, where his father, uncle and grandfather all fought, and too
late for World War Two, where is older brother Adam fought. I would like to say
he was born in the sweet spot, at the perfect time, but that would be a
betrayal of his service in the Korean War. There were plenty of wars to go
round in the twentieth century and likely there will always be some place where
men can kill other men in the service of something they don’t understand and will
never reach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">My father spent his childhood years in
Winnipeg, living at the end of the streetcar line where the bright yellow tram
cars of the Winnipeg Electric Company turned around, taking the working class
from this outer suburb into the Winnipeg city center each morning and returning
them back each night. Like a great many cities in the depression era, the
streetcars ran to the very edge of the city. In his case it stopped near the
end of his street. At the other end of his street, off to the east, there was
nothing but open prairie and the rail yards of the CPR. The other side of his
childhood dominion was bounded by the sluggish and muddy Red River. He loved
his childhood time; the prairie was his playground and the Red River was his
personal Mississippi.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">He was the second of four children. His
older brother, Adam, was born in 1925. Then, five years later my Dad came
along. Five years after that, in 1935, his sister Diane was born. Then, in the
mid-1940’s his brother, born with Downs Syndrome, came into his life. For the
whole of his life my Dad admired his older brother Adam in spite of his erratic
and unkind, sometimes criminal, behaviour. For the whole of his life, my Dad
doted on Ronnie, granting his every wish in spite of the damage to a man who,
due to his incapacity to understand, would often ask for the very things that
were worst for him; more food, more candy, more beer, staying up late. My Dad
would not say “no” to Ronnie, and he could not say “no” to his older brother
Adam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-CA">The Great Depression hardly touched my
father. He once said to me that if it weren’t for the neighbours and others
around him, he would never have known there was a Depression. His father, my
grandfather, worked for the railroad all through the 1930’s. While the pay was
not great, there was always money for the family, albeit often subsumed with my
grandfather’s prodigious ability to consume alcohol.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
"</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
-30-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-34715958995250092632018-10-08T15:44:00.001-06:002018-10-08T16:19:27.817-06:00I have lots to give thanks for this Thanksgiving, really.**David again... (I feel the need to keep stating this... just in case... :) )<br />
<br />
<br />
Today is Canadian Thanksgiving.<br />
Richard often gave thanks for having so many people in his life, who cared, who shared, and who occasionally put him in his place when he acted up.<br />
<br />
He acted up a lot after the diagnosis. Wouldn't you?<br />
"Hi, I'm your neurologist. I hope your credit card has a 4-year expiry date on it, 'coz you don't! LOL"... <sigh><br />
Richard would have thought that was funny. I'd admit it if not...<br />
<br />
He got angry. That's part of life. Often, it's a passing issue, like missing the last train, not having enough cash to buy lunch with, or being 20 minutes late for a movie.<br />
With ALS, you have a lot to be angry about. Life, the Universe, and Everything, can be blamed for it, but you still have to deal with it. Having ALS steamed him up.<br />
<br />
He blew off that steam with this blog, and more than a few of you, his readers, have thanked him for it.<br />
He never felt he was a spokesperson, an advocate, a role model, or an inspiration.<br />
His personal, real, day-to-day life, didn't seem that special to him.<br />
<br />
Many agreed, and didn't think him that special... he was just being himself.<br />
But there really WAS something special about him.<br />
His ability to laugh at his terminal illness.<br />
His ability to laugh at him peeing on himself.<br />
His ability to laugh at anything, really.<br />
It might take an hour, a day, or a few stiff drinks, but eventually, he'd be able to laugh at pretty much anything life threw his way.<br />
<br />
Any time there was another bump in the road, friends around him would help remind him that "things could be worse," to which he inevitably replied with a smirking shriek, "I have ALS. How, exactly, could things be worse?!?" Often, the reply was "You could be out of Scotch."<br />
He'd give Thanks for a stocked bar.<br />
Then he'd give Thanks for a stocked fridge.<br />
For a roof over his head.<br />
For friends & family to keep him centred.<br />
He had a lot to be thankful for.<br />
<br />
So did we, who knew him.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-46667172740469450912018-10-07T20:21:00.003-06:002018-10-07T20:21:50.889-06:00The party to end all parties?***David writing again...<br />
<br />
Last night we had a party. Perhaps the party to end all parties.<br />
Not a wild, raucous, who-is-that-crashed-out-on-the-couch party, but the 'last party' at Richard's.<br />
There isn't another like him; there won't be another party like his.<br />
<br />
I posted on Thursday that we had already-in-motion, plans for a Thanksgiving dinner party at Richard's place on Saturday.<br />
<br />
He would have wanted it done in his absence (he truly did want us to gather once he was gone - to empty the freezer and have one last evening in the place many of us came to know as our social centre), so it was a fitting tribute we shared drinks, good stories, bad jokes, a few tears, and lots of food.<br />
<br />
It was a good party - considerably quieter than normal, but not from a sombre mood; it was from a lack of his deep voice taking centre stage, demanding attention, wanting to be heard.<br />
<br />
We will miss him, but as he told us, and as one learns as one ages, life must 'go on'...<br />
We remember, we smile, we move forward.<br />
<br />
Many of 'The Group' were unable to attend last night.<br />
People have their own lives, several were on vacation.<br />
We will have another party, soon, so they will have a chance to catch up.<br />
It won't be the same, as it won't be at the apartment, but it will be the people that matter - the people in his life, and the memories we have of him.<br />
<br />
It will be hard to find another setting where everyone would be so welcome, so appreciated just for randomly dropping by. This was partly Richard being stuck at home a lot of the time because of the ALS, wanting people around him; but partly it was simply his way - he was a social animal.<br />
<br />
He was a good host, and always worried about what to prepare, what to offer, what food or snacks to buy - even when struggling with a budget, and knowing full well that our potlucks inevitably ended with food to spare, he worried about being a good host.<br />
<br />
Last night, he was a great host. We remembered the best things, and occasionally the worst, about him, and raised a few glasses to the simple grey urn with his ashes in it, resting on top of the bar - even in the afterlife, he probably wanted to be near his Scotch...<br />
<br />
For the first time, though, the instructions were clear - empty the fridge & freezer, it wasn't needed any more. Lots of people took lots of food, so much that there won't be any Tupperware in the estate when time comes to clean out the apartment.<br />
<br />
That's what he wanted, so that's what we did.<br />
<br />
It was a good party; he was the guest of honour, a role he often just plain expected us to give him. This time, it was true. It's just too bad he missed it. He'd have had lots of fun.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-74755934721174462752018-10-04T09:55:00.000-06:002018-10-04T09:55:17.987-06:00I'm hosting a party!!<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
*This is David writing once again...*<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Richard loved a good party.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Richard loved a bad party.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Richad just loved parties!<o:p></o:p></div>
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He loved throwing them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He loved going to them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If there was a party somewhere, he wanted in.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I heard recently, that while in the US on a road trip, he discovered a (unrelated) McBride wedding taking place in his hotel... naturally, he wormed his way in & had a great time. A party where none was expected? Perfect!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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He missed the housewarming party of Dan & Anisa this past weekend, something he was very much looking forward to.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He would have brought a bottle of his own home-made wine - a Barolo, a Cabernet... whatever would be appropriate for a housewarming. I'm a beer drinker, so what do I know of wine?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I know that I will take a bottle home from his wine rack this weekend, let it age - a year, five, ten perhaps - and then enjoy it with someone I care about, as I cared about him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This weekend, there will be another party.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We had a Thanksgiving dinner potluck planned for Saturday, once again at Richard's place.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It was decided to continue with the plan, as he would have wanted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He didn't want anyone to mourn his passing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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He wanted people to 'eat the food and drink the booze' and remember the good times they had with him.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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There were plenty of good times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And they WERE good times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There were some bad times, of course; like the 'Weekend of Crying', that first weekend after his diagnosis at the rental cabin (bad reason, but good weekend); the day he finally accepted he could no longer drive his pickup truck; the last road trip we took when it became clear he would need a professional caregiver to travel with him to care for his 'personal needs'.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But even with ALS, they were mostly good times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Richard's Calgary social life started in September of 2010, when he first came to a pub trivia event at the Unicorn Pub downtown. I was an organizer in a social group, and a dozen members came to that event with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This was an ongoing, mostly-weekly event at the pub, and a small core group of us had begun to attend regularly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then Richard walked in... Immediately, I could tell he'd be trouble <laugh>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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All but two of that original attendee list are still in 'the group' of friends, eight years later.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Most of us see each other fairly regularly, but usually surrounding Richard.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As we are very different people, with very different lives, it pains me to acknowledge that we won't likely be seeing each other as often in the future - Richard was the glue that held 'the group' together.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We will try.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Over time, 'the group' grew larger, people came & went (as happens in life), but the core dozen or so have remained.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On Saturday, most of 'the group' will have one last party at Richard's place, to celebrate his life & the good times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We will share stories, play a little trivia, do a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity (<a href="https://cardsagainsthumanity.com/" style="color: #954f72;">https://cardsagainsthumanity.com</a>) or Exploding Kittens (<a href="https://explodingkittens.com/" style="color: #954f72;">https://explodingkittens.com</a>), two of his favourite games, and of course, we will eat the food and drink the booze.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We will laugh, cry, maybe sing & dance (it depends on how much wine there is).<o:p></o:p></div>
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We will enjoy. He would want that.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After all, it's a party.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-33497836454659795002018-10-03T20:00:00.000-06:002018-10-04T09:53:11.283-06:00A poem<div dir="ltr">
**David writing...</div>
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<br /></div>
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Richard loved this <u>piece</u>...</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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Do not go gentle into that good night<br />
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-Dylan Thomas<br />
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<br />
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<br />
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Do not go gentle into that good night,<br />
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Old age should burn and rave at close of day;<br />
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br />
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<br />
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Though wise men at their end know dark is right,<br />
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Because their words had forked no lightning<br />
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They do not go gentle into that good night.<br />
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<br />
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Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright<br />
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Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,<br />
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br />
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<br />
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Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,<br />
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And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,<br />
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Do not go gentle into that good night.<br />
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<br />
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Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight<br />
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Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,<br />
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br />
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<br />
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And you, my father, there on the sad height,<br />
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Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.<br />
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Do not go gentle into that good night.<br />
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<br />
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.<br />
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<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-73173214796462643622018-09-29T07:17:00.001-06:002018-09-29T07:17:47.539-06:00A 1600-year-old joke<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><u>This is David writing once more...</u></i></span><br />
<br />
Richard and I both liked Monty Python.<br />
<br />
One of Richard's most-oft quotes (as it is for most Python fans) would be hauled out for any appropriate (and often, inappropriate) occasion:<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">"He's not pining! He's passed on! This Richard is no more!<br />
He has ceased to be! He's expired and gone to meet his
maker!<br /><br />He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace!<br />
If you
hadn't nailed him to the wheelchair he'd be pushing up the daisies!<br /></span></i></b><b><i><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">His
metabolic processes are now history! He's off the twig!</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">
He's kicked
the bucket, he's shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain
and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!!<br /><br /><u>THIS</u> IS AN EX-RICHARD!!"</span></i></b><br />
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple;">'Dead Parrot Sketch', Monty Python, 1969 (modified)</span><br />
<br />
<br />
I don't know if Richard knew this, but the concept behind the skit (that a dissatisfied customer is returning a parrot to the pet store on the basis that it was dead when he bought it, but the storekeeper keeps making excuses for the parrot's lack of response) goes back as far as 400 AD, documented by Hierocles and Philagrius in a compilation of jokes titles "Philogelos: The Laugh Addict".<br />
<br />
In this Greek version, a man complains to a slave-merchant that this new slave had just died. The merchant replies, "When he was with me, he never did any such thing!"<br />
<br />
I think this is therefore, very fitting to apply to Richard's life - he loved humour and history, and this combination suits him very nicely.<br />
See <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/3454319/Dead-Parrot-sketch-is-1600-years-old.html">https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/3454319/Dead-Parrot-sketch-is-1600-years-old.html</a><br />
<br />
This information relates to a 2004 BBC poll on comedy sketches, where the Python Parrot Sketch took more than double the next highest number of votes as the Number One best sketch.<br />
<br />
The Python's "Four Yorkshiremen" was #2 ('you had a house?? Luxury... when I was a lad of 3, I'd have to get up in the middle of the night, lick the road clean around the garbage bin where 12 of us lived, scrounge for food for my 27 siblings, work 19 hours at the mill for tuppence a month, then Dad would thrash us to death before bed. I'd have given my left arm to live in a house..." "Well, by 'house' I meant the cardboard box we lived in - it were a house to US!"), etc...<br />
See <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1by0-nkKOTs">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1by0-nkKOTs</a><br />
<br />
And then, perhaps fittingly, #3 was the Little Britain characters Lou and Andy (Andy was disabled & in a wheelchair). Everytime Lou went to some extreme to make accessible arrangements for a hotel or access to a movie theater or something, Lou, in the background, would just stand up, walk around & do some stuff, like go for a swim in the pool - or just pee into it - before returning to the chair as Lou turned around to further assist him.<br />
See <a href="https://youtu.be/rxFyzbiIVMI">https://youtu.be/rxFyzbiIVMI</a><br />
<br />
I felt like a Lou more than once while Richard and I were travelling... :)<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-45880668557899142542018-09-27T16:48:00.001-06:002018-09-27T16:48:41.063-06:00Wow, yesterday REALLY sucked...<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Friends of Richard McBride;<br />This is David writing on his behalf.</div>
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It is with great sadness that I must announce Richard passed away suddenly on Wednesday afternoon, at his home in Calgary, as he wished.</div>
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This was not ALS that got him! He beat that, at least… he passed quickly, likely from a heart attack.</div>
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He did not want anyone to be sad for him being gone; he wanted everyone to be happy for having known him, even from afar.</div>
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I for one, would not be the person I am without having met him, and will always treasure the times we had together – whether in a group at trivia nights, in clumps of people at his apartment for dinner & parties, and mostly for our time spent on the road, exploring strange new places, seeking out new things and new friends, and boldly going where no wheelchair has gone before!</div>
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He will be missed – his wit, his wisdom, his sense of humour – all words to be polite when I can’t write the real stuff here.</div>
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There will be a few informal gatherings in the near future – specifically, no funeral service – but will allow his friends a couple of opportunities to get together and toast his newest adventure.</div>
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More news to follow in the next few days, as certain things are decided & plans worked out.</div>
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Just remember, Richard was LIVING with ALS, and not DYING from it.</div>
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Your condolences are appreciated, and know that he cared about everyone who cared about him.</div>
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As for this Post's Title: he would have loved it!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlVuIYFDyFbtZ9ri-9FafY7BmPqkBkphoILKznN_uUFeNKc-eENYl-iRVFtbB7fX-Fxh47qQLGJcu5dKffOhhkcK0ulz6yduaGfIp0-E2H9JLIyforq3dwr6UGgNS6DIqRx8hTmXC-90/s1600/Dulcimer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlVuIYFDyFbtZ9ri-9FafY7BmPqkBkphoILKznN_uUFeNKc-eENYl-iRVFtbB7fX-Fxh47qQLGJcu5dKffOhhkcK0ulz6yduaGfIp0-E2H9JLIyforq3dwr6UGgNS6DIqRx8hTmXC-90/s400/Dulcimer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stirling Castle, Scotland, 2017 - A rare photo where I got a smile out of him!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-75074856664077444842018-09-25T18:07:00.001-06:002018-09-25T18:07:19.959-06:00Memory LossWhat day is it today? Oh, my computer says Tuesday. I used to have a snap sharp memory, carrying dozens of details and dates, phone numbers and email addresses. These days I have trouble remembering what day it is, sometimes even what month it is. I lay this loss of short term, and even long term, recall is due to the complete shift in my lifestyle, aging, and, to some degree, ALS FTD. Regardless of the reasons, the memory is gone.<br />
<br />
If you had asked me a decade ago things which I thought were important in my personality, good in my person, I would have said things like generosity, helpfulness, accepting, flexible. Those things are still within me today, unaffected by ALS. Memory, on the other hand, is a mental muscle. It is not something you list as an important personal trait, as far as I am concerned. Having a good memory reflects neither well or poorly on your personality. It simply reflects where you focus, and how you focus on the things around you.<br />
<br />
Except I hate this loss as well, this missing mental acuity. I dislike that I am so unbusy that I forget what day it is. I hate that I miss things, even when I have them in my calendar, because I forget to check my calendar, and I miss the reminders, or forget them as soon as they have played. I hate that I miss my children's birthdays, depending on Facebook to remind me, as unreliable a source as there ever was. I hate that I can't remember what I bought at Costco today without doing a fierce mental grilling.<br />
<br />
My Dad's mind was fairly sharp until he died, but nearing 80 had its impact on his short term memory. My Mom is dealing with the early stages of Alshiemer's, so her short term memory gets a pass. Yet she was sharp as a tack right up until 80. Then there is me, failing in body and mind, at the ripe old age of 63. I'm an easy 20 years off the pace, growing old and weak before my time. The loss of short term memory is only one thing; there are many others these days. All of them leave me worn and wondering. Is this really worth it? For now, maybe. Maybe I forget what makes it matter, or not matter. Maybe I just go on without thinking, without remembering.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-22690789160798315032018-09-24T17:27:00.004-06:002018-09-24T17:27:51.474-06:00Sleep DayI've been sleeping all day. That's what can happen when you take a Zopiclone. You get knocked out, staying there until the full effect of the pill wears off. The funny thing is that sometimes they don't work at all, while other times they work as if taken in industrial strength.<br />
<br />
This does not mean I did not go through the homecare process of getting up and dressed. I have no choice in that matter. The HCA called from the front door. I woke up and let him in. He came into my apartment and into my bedroom; I was sound asleep. He gently tapped me on my hip. I woke up and dozed my way through the morning process until my shower. We did exercises, which added to my exhaustion. Then he woke my up even more when he put me in my wheelchair.<br />
<br />
All of that didn't matter. I told him to skip breafast; I wanted to sleep. I even passed on coffee. Instead I leaned my wheelchair back and went to sleep until 5:00 pm. I am now awake. I am not hungry. I've had a bit of water to drink. And I am ready to go back to sleep.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-54605133169377088292018-09-23T12:35:00.002-06:002018-09-23T12:35:09.993-06:00MessRough night last night, after a very busy day yesterday. There are all kinds of unhappy little things happening to me these days, the kinds of things that can really grind you down. You would think I could get over some of these things, recognizing that they only exist because of ALS. Unfortunately it's the reverse, that they remind me of what it was to not have ALS.<br />
<br />
When I eat these days, I put as much on my shirt as I do in my mouth. Unless it is something I can clearly stab, like a piece of meat or a solid vegetable, or perhaps bread if it's got gravy on it. I can do soft stuff that clumps together, like mashed potatoes, but it's a 50/50 shot at getting it to my mouth. My best chance of eating a relatively mess-free dinner is to lean back in my chair so I am not lifting as high with my fork. As to a spoon, the odds go way down. I spill with every lift.<br />
<br />
I ate my dinner in the living room last night, a nice green salad with taco beef, cheese, and lots of lettuce. Mostly the lettuce was stabable. It was the taco beef and cheese which were problematic. So now I have this awful mess of dried up beef and cheese, alone with some escaped greenery, crusted onto my living room floor. I'm going to ask my morning HCA to clean it up. I just hate the mess in the first place.<br />
<br />
Then there is the spillage from my wine, water, or adult beverages. I simply cannot lift any beverage container without my shakiness creating waves in a glass, most of which splash over the edge, either on to me, or onto the floor, or, when I'm in bed, then onto my sheets. I have reverted to straws now, yet even they can be a challenge, wiggling about in the glass as they do while headed mouthward.<br />
<br />
It's all the latest level of frustration. I have to live with it. I don't have to like it. I don't have to apologize for it. It's just the latest part of living with ALS.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-28502360793699893262018-09-21T12:46:00.001-06:002018-09-21T12:46:38.257-06:00I Have A FriendI have friends; many good, helpful friends.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... who comes to visit me on a regular basis, and sometimes even on an irregular basis. Whenever he is nearby, he makes it a point to check on me, asking first what my energy level is like, then dropping by, often with a few beers. When he visits, he will make me dinner if needed. He opens a bottle of wine for me, getting a wine glass down from my now unreachable shelves.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... who loves to visit, bringing her dog with her. When she visits she does almost anything and everything on the "Help Me" list I keep on the wall. She both cooks with me, and cooks for me. When I am in trouble, I know I can call on her, unless, of course, she is at work. Even then, after a long work day she will still come here to help me, to make sure I have eaten, to go shopping with and for me.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... who makes it a point to help me financially each and every month, reliably, without ever asking what I do with the largess he sends to me. He visits when he can, as he lives out in BC. He knew me before ALS; his friendship transcends both time and ALS. I miss him, and look forward anxiously for the next visit. We had great fun before ALS, and we continue to have great fun after ALS.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... who I can count on for both the big things and the small things in my life. He is generous with me, taking time to visit, helping me with tasks around the apartment, and even providing financial assistance on a regular basis. If I am in trouble, if I need some help, I can call him. He is trustworthy and dependable.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... someone whom I have never met, yet someone who provides support on a regular basis, as well as being in touch often by email and online. In fact I have many friends like this, who make my life richer with their emails, comments, and messages. If humbles me that they would take the time, and money, to make my life better.<br />
<br />
I have a friend... too many to write about in one blog entry. The include family members, people near and far, people who help in different ways, people who enrich my life. All of you are the best thing in my life.<br />
<br />
Thank you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-39715690769918188272018-09-20T11:50:00.001-06:002018-09-20T11:50:14.289-06:00Living Like ThisOver the last few days I have awoken feeling weak, tired, and upset to my stomach. Tueday evening I had dinner company; Tonny, Dan, and Emily. We did Taco Tuesday. I lasted well into the evening, stimulated by having others around me. Yesterday, by early evening, I felt passably good, although still ready for an early bedtime. I would say I am feeling sick, but I am already sick, so that's no good. It is, I think, the exhaustion of ALS taking an extra turn at beating on my body.<br />
<br />
This tiredness is extreme, extending through every part of my body. Even my fingers, even my fingertips feel tired. The weakened muscles in my arms are loathe to cooperate with anything, never mind trying to eat my breakfast. On Tuesday I couldn't finish breakfast; the effort of eating a second egg on toast was too much to bear. Yesterday I managed breakfast but ate a very small dinner, leftovers from the previous couple of evenings.<br />
<br />
It seems it just takes me a very long time to get my body going each day. Right now my right arm is spasming from the effort of typing; it's been happening a lot that way. Writing in the morning seems to be more of a task than I can bear some days. I leave it until evening, but then I either have company or I am so tired that I give it up. The best days are when I wake up after a nap, later in the afternoon, feeling like I can at least accomplish something. Then, I write. Sometimes it takes me until late evening to get that strength. Some days, there is none at all.<br />
<br />
This is living with ALS, this ever increasing loss of ability, the tiredness, the exhaustion, the weakness, the shaking, the general body distress. I've been on this road a long time, too long. It's difficult, especially when you add in the cares of life we all share; bills, groceries. At least I don't have work to stress me. I think that's a good thing, although some days I wonder. Work was, at least, a distraction, and a solution, from and to the other issues. Now, when I am awake, I just stress over living like this.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-48932486735968849982018-09-18T17:28:00.000-06:002018-09-18T17:28:30.329-06:00The Schedule Is FullMy caregiver needs have been resolved, at least for now. One thing I have learned in this process is that nothing is certain until it is done, no shift is filled until the shift is over. As one of my friends taught me, a contract is not a contract until the last cheque clears the bank. Even so, it feels great to have my own caregiving team starting on October 1.<br />
<br />
I've already instituted one of the most significant changes to my care plan. From now on, exercises will happen in the evenings, arms and legs on alternating days with Sunday as a holiday. My hope is that this change will mean I am less exhausted in the mornings. In addition, since I set the care plan, I'm comfortable that there will be no arguments when it comes to laundry or such. I'm also expecting my apartment will be somewhat tidier.<br />
<br />
What's really great about this team is that two out of three of them are up for travel, especially road trips. They are all in agreement that a travel day does not mean extra pay; they will be paid the normal daily hours. They will, however, get their own room at night. That can be a challenge for costs, but I want to find a way to do a couple of road trips over the fall and winter. I may have to sell my soul to raise the money, but then again my soul ain't worth all that much these days.<br />
<br />
The other exciting thing is that two of the three are amenable to live-in; one of them is doing that already but wants some extra work, something I should have encouraged Shelby to do more of. On top of that, one of them knows a person who is explicitly looking for a live-in position. She's going to send me a resume tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Now the challenge is the wait until October 1. That's 12 days where a lot of things can change. I hope they don't; you just never know. I'm going to have to remain anxious, probably even after everything kicks into gear. Worry? I can do that, right?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-89944428749722737692018-09-17T19:10:00.000-06:002018-09-17T19:10:09.595-06:00A New HireI've hire my first caregiver in the journey to replace Shelby. She will be the "coverage" person, intended to cover weekends and holidays. It's good to have that done. Tomorrow I am expecting to hire either one or two more candidates to cover the "full time" slot; one to work most days and another to work a couple of evenings a week.<br />
<br />
This whole process has demonstrated to my why it has been so difficult for CBI to find competent, dedicated workers to care for me. As the supervisor said today, while training yet another new person, "there are those for whom this is a passion, and those for whom this is just a job." I've seen a lot of that in both the resumes I've reviewed and the people I've interviewed. What I have come to re-learn, as I have learned in the past, is that trusting my instincts along with a steely-eyed resume review, is the best way to do the hiring. If something feels off, listen to that feeling.<br />
<br />
I'm ready to get back to self-managed care. It's a fair bit of work on my part, although David has agreed to help me with the paperwork. I actually thought about hiring someone for five hours a week just to provide an hour of supervision and coverage each weekday. I had someone specific for that role, but she can't do it, so I let it pass.<br />
<br />
The live-in role is still a working plan, but the urgency is gone with live-out staff on board. The live-in would give me companionship along with care, providing me with a roommate for at least some of my days. I liked that when Shelby was here. I would like it again. For now, though, the first bridge has been crossed. Christine starts next Sunday or Monday, depending on what the other caregivers want.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-52715596588438536702018-09-16T13:42:00.001-06:002018-09-16T13:42:20.350-06:00Another WinterI've reverted back to my lap desk. It's easier for eating and typing than using the dining room table. It also allows me to write whilst sitting in front of my window, looking at my tree. Today the sky is dim, a soft grey from horizon to horizon, not quite threatening rain yet not quite providing confidence enough to go out without a coat. There is a chill in the air as it struggles to warm up past freezing.<br />
<br />
It may technically be summer for another week, but fall is definitely here in Calgary. The leaves have turned on all but the most hardy of deciduous trees, many of them already fallen, scattering on the grass like a poor man's carpet, showing bits of green through the covering pattern of yellow. The sidewalks and streets have been attacked by the street sweepers and landscapers, leaves thrown into the gutters, there to rest until the next rain or melting snow pushes them downwards where they will clog the gutters, overflowing them into the streets where passing traffic will turn it all into a glorious mess.<br />
<br />
It doesn't rain here like it does on the coast. Calgary rains come and go, rather than settling in for months on end. The horizon here is open, rather than encamped by mountains on almost all sides. Certainly I get to see the mountains, often. They are an hours drive to the west, yet visible from here within the city on a clear day, and most days are clear. Even this cold front which brings the clouds and showers will be gone by tomorrow, only to return in a few days, then once again leave.<br />
<br />
When the cold of winter finally arrives, perhaps in late October, the skies will be brilliantly blue once again, clearing the air, making the distance seem immeasurable, bringing the far mountains into near focus, spiking the air with a chill. Then too, the winds will come, making me all the happier to sit in front of my window, warm in my apartment, watching the wizards of winter wend their way.<br />
<br />
I hope I am still here for that. It would be nice to have another winter.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-6640961425060336392018-09-15T22:46:00.001-06:002018-09-15T22:46:43.969-06:00Mourning<p dir="ltr">I'm at sorry I haven't posted lately. I've been mourning the loss and failure of my sex life. It's gone, it's just gone, and I really miss it.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I don't really feel like writing a lot these days. In fact most days I don't feel like writing at all. It's not so much the work as it is that I just don't feel like I have anything left to say.</p>
<p dir="ltr">The truth is I'm tired of living with this disease. I'm tired of life in general this way, and I don't really know what to do anymore. I wake up each day. I eat my breakfast, and I go on. Unfortunately much of that go on is just sitting in my apartment watching Netflix or looking out my window watching people walk through the parking lot across the street.</p>
<p dir="ltr">No, I'm not going to end my life anytime soon. I'm just not having a lot of fun. I do enjoy time with friends, but there is no one to hold me during the day or lie with me at night. I'm alone, alone in my fight with ALS, notwithstanding all of the others around me who struggle with the same battle. No matter what you say, we all do it alone when it comes to the end, or even part way through.</p>
<p dir="ltr">This is a terrible disease, a disease that I have to deal with in the terrible part right now. I just wish there was a little fun to be had.</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-63157321935900244092018-09-13T17:34:00.001-06:002018-09-13T17:34:38.552-06:00Laundry And ShoppingMy friend Brad has been over for most of the afternoon. He just left about 15 minutes ago. I asked him to come over today, to help me with a couple of household chores; doing some laundry and doing some shopping. In both of these there is a small story, enlightening nonetheless.<br />
<br />
Laundry is a task which has been taken care of by my HCA's for a very long time, at least a couple of years. Yet on Monday when I asked my newest HCA to do a load of laundry, she refused, declaring it not to be in the care plan. I repeated the request on Tuesday, at which point she got quite huffy, declaring that she is not supposed to do work that is not on the care plan. I asked why all the other HCA's were doing it for me, at which point she got even huffier. I backed down, deciding instead to talk to her supervisor.<br />
<br />
The RN Supervisor came to visit today. I asked her about the laundry. She read the care plan, only to tell me that a some point the "Wash" checkbox for laundry had been checked, but nothing else. She went on to tell me that even the "Wash" instruction had been crossed out. I asked about the past, to which she shrugged her shoulders, telling me they shouldn't have been doing it. It is not on the care plan.<br />
<br />
I wonder about a couple of things here. Why, knowing full well that I cannot do my own laundry, would my AHS caseworker have started to note "Wash, Dry, Fold", only to scribble it out after checking the first box? Second, how could this process have gone on so long without someone noticing, until a fairly lazy HCA seeking to avoid a task discovered the error?<br />
<br />
In defence of the RN Supervisor, she had been trying to contact my AHS Caseworker to get an updated care plan. The reality is that time allotments for me are based on the care plan. If there is time allotted for doing laundry, which there is, it had damned well better be on the care plan. If no, someone is either paying for a service not delivered or not being paid for the work they do.<br />
<br />
Shopping, on the other hand, is a task home care will not do. It is not within their mandate. I don't mind so much; I enjoy doing my own grocery shopping. The problem is that increasingly the barriers to my life make it more difficult for me to get out of my building. This makes going shopping a challenge, one I will often pass on, instead asking friends to pick up things for me. Then, every once in a while, I will impose on one of my friends to make a major shopping trip with me. It's fun for me, and I get some great company.<br />
<br />
Both of these situations highlight the differences between self-managed care and vendor-managed care. With vendor-managed care, a case worker with AHS writes the care plan. Part of their mandate is to deliver only those services with they feel I need, within the AHS guidelines. On the other hand, with self-managed care, I write the care plan with whatever I think I need, as long as I stay within the AHS budget. That's why I am working so hard, why David and Anne are working so hard, to get a self-managed caregiver for me. It's what I will need increasingly as I get worse and worse.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3651496850952600622.post-29169706253114918632018-09-12T19:41:00.001-06:002018-09-12T19:41:47.655-06:00No News From The ALS ClinicI went to the ALS clinic today. I really don't care to go to the clinic anymore. First, the appointments are in the morning; this morning I had to wake up at 8:00 AM to get an Access Calgary bus at 9:10 AM for a 10:30 AM appointment. Second, the transit logistics are terrible; I finished my appointment at 1:00 PM, the Access Calgary bus was scheduled for 2:00 PM, it took 2 hours to make the 45 minute trip. And third, I learn very little that I already don't know, if anything at all.<br />
<br />
This marathon effort today produced very little news. My lung volume is low while my breathing is fine. My diaphragm is a lot weaker, but my CO2 output is normal. Oh, and I gained 1 pound a month over the last year, all on my belly. It was interesting. On hearing the weight gain, the respirologist said "<i>Oh, that's good.</i>" I'm not sure if it is good because I gained weight or good because I didn't gain a lot more weight.<br />
<br />
I've come to the place where I am now comfortable with the fact that I am going to continue to gain weight until I stop eating. I plan on eating and drinking for as long as possible! After all, I am in no position to exercise it away. I am the most sedentary of sedentary people, immobile from the shoulders down. As to when I stop eating, I'm fairly sure that event is well on it's way. I'm having plenty of trouble getting the fork to my mouth these days, and it's only going to get worse.<br />
<br />
When it comes to my breathing, I've got a long way to go yet. There are plenty of people out there with only one lung; that means a lung volume capacity of 50%. I can get well below that before it becomes serious. The same is true with my diaphragm and breathing in general. Yes, I get tired, short of breath. Yet I am still breathing well overall.<br />
<br />
All in all, it was a "stay the course" kind of a day; nothing dramatic, nothing exciting, things progressing as one might expect. It really kind of fits in with my general approach to this, that I will let nature take its course. That doesn't mean giving up. I\ll keep living as well as I can for as long as I can. Once that comes to an end, so do I. No fuss, no muss, no bother. It just seems like the right thing to do, living one day at a time.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13569763685182951696noreply@blogger.com0