Ryan Cheney

Back Amongst The Living

Ryan — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 20:25:42 +0000

For the one....two...all right, I'll be generous to myself, three that might have missed me, it's been a long absence from here. Unfortunately, I became the unwilling recipient of a nasty illness that took the better part of a year to overcome. One that wreaked complete havoc with me, both mentally and physically. There were many days where it took every ounce of energy I had, to complete the most basic of day to day tasks.

What first seemed to be a simple bout of illness in September 2008, quickly turned into a debilitating one by late November. What I didn't realize until much later, is that I was experiencing what I have termed "sick-cycling". I would become ill, get well, and then become sick again. However, the time that I would be well between each bout was continually decreasing. The day after Thanksgiving, my body finally crashed and burned.

When I went to bed that evening, I felt fine. Within an hour, my heart was pounding furiously, and I felt like I was two degrees from spontaneously combusting. It felt like all of my skin was on fire. This went on for several hours, as I fought to get some rest, having to get up at 4:30 a.m. for work. Finally, I fell asleep around 3 for a brief rest.

I figured that with a few good days of rest, I'd be back to normal. How wrong I would turn out to be. In the midst of my sick-cycling, I had become so weak that I had to stop working out. Weights that were once easily lifted now felt like they were 10x their actual weight. It felt like I was in a mental fog much of the time. I could not move quickly in any fashion, or I would become light-headed. More than a few times, there would be a mind-body disconnect. My mind would want to do something, yet there was a felt delay, before my body would respond to the requested action. Neat on one hand, frustrating on other. No energy, light-headedness and constant mental fog, coupled with a painfully hacking cough, and the inability to keep food down. Sounds like a wonderful recipe of ailments, huh? Not!

Being the stubborn New Englander that I am, I was in no rush to see the doctor. Don't get me wrong, I like my doctor. I just don't like going to the doctor's. However, I ended up having a little help in making my decision to go.

For quite some time, my Better Half had been suggesting that I go see the doctor. And each time, I would tell her that I would give it a couple of weeks, and see if I got better. After awhile, her daughter, Miss M., became involved. I was now being tag-teamed into submission. It didn't take long, trust me. When the two most important women in your life are almost forcefully telling you to "Go to the doctor!", your options become limited. I made the appointment. It was easier to make the appointment, than bear the burden of knowing that they were worrying about me. For some bizarre reason, they love me.

After being prescribed some heavy-duty cough medicine, antibiotics, and an inhaler, I started my way on the road to recovery. However, it was short-lived. By the end of February, I had a relapse, though not as bad. This one I decided to tough out. With this one though, I lost a good chunk of my hearing for several months. Considering that I wasn't throwing up anymore, and no longer had a hacking cough, I figured the trade-off was a good one.

By May, my hearing had slowly started to return, and my energy levels had begun to increase. Mentally, I was still having issues. Though some would say that that's been a life long thing for me. It wasn't until sometime in October that I actually felt "right" again.

Being sick for some 9 months, it was time to play catch up. My house was a mess, my yard was a mess, and I had gained a considerable amount of weight. I was back to the weight that I was when I first started ER4YT. As I told my Better Half after seeing pictures of myself at my niece's graduation, "The current version of me just won't do!". With that exclamation, I dusted off my workout routines, prepared a meal plan, and dove back into weightlifting. Since July, I've lost 15 lbs., and the total amount of weight lifted has slowly but steadily been increasing. For a wedding that my Better Half and I attended in September, she had to take in my shirt three inches. On EACH side! And I'm not done yet.

It's been a helluva year, and it's now time to get back into the game of life. For those that know of my mischievous ways, I've been told in no uncertain terms that I am never allowed to stay home alone again! But that story will have to wait for another time. Right now, it just feels good to be back.

For all of those that are celebrating Thanksgiving this Thursday, may you all have a safe trip, and a wonderful gathering of friends and family. May everyone have a wonderful week filled with great health, happiness, and harmony.

Added Note: Hmmm...I was wondering why I was getting some comments in my Inbox this past week. For whatever reason, my Gelotology entry shows a date of November 2009. Even though I wrote it a year ago! Go figure. Maybe the comments are the kick in the butt that I needed to get writing again. So thanks to all for the comments!

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

Gelotology

Ryan — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 03:10:18 +0000

No, Ladies and Gentlemen, Gelotology is not the study of gelatin. By a show of hands, how many had that as their first thought? Yeah, I thought so. For those of you that did, here's your quick study for the day. Gelatin is an avoid for A's, B's, and AB's. For us O's, it's a neutral. Now, who remembers the Jell-O jingle, "Watch it wiggle, see it jiggle"? All right, everyone out of Mr. Peabody's WABAC Machine, and back to the present.

Gelotology is the study of laughter, and humor. and their effect on the human body. Laughter has also been studied from both a psychological, and physiological perspective. What I'd like to know is who first presented the idea of doing research on laughter, and who first gave money for the study? That must have made for an interesting study proposal!

With all that has taken place in recent weeks, folks could definitely use a healthy dose of laughter. Political campaigns, the Wall Street meltdown, the mortgage meltdown, hijackings off the African coast, rising food prices, and a whole slew of other happenings.

How we react to the events that go on in, and around our lives, are critical to our physical, and emotional well-being. When we allow the people, objects, or situations around us to dictate our thoughts, emotions, and physical behaviors, we are giving them our energy, our power. Why would we want to waste our energy on someone, or something, that we don't like, or that is out of our control? As Florence Scovel-Shinn noted many years ago, "All stress is self-imposed". We are only affected by that which we allow to affect us. If we are going to allow ourselves to be affected, let it be by laughter, and happiness, not anger, jealousy, or hostility.

As more studies about laughter come to light, the physical and emotional benefits of laughter become evident. With laughter, stress hormones such as cortisol, epinephrine, and adrenaline are reduced. At the same time, healthy hormones such as endorphins, and neurotransmitters are increased. Laughter also provides a physical workout for the abs, diaphragm, and even the heart. So which is more beneficial, having a good laugh, or flipping the guy off that just cut you off in traffic? It's far easier, and better, to laugh at him, than to risk a road-rage incident.

Back in February, I had pretty much given up on the radio, and televised news. Most televised news is doom and gloom. Every once in awhile, they offer an uplifting story, but not nearly often enough. My 700+ album collection just wasn't cutting it on my hour long commute to work anymore, either.

So instead, I started listening to comedy music. Years ago, I used to listen to the Dr. Demento show every Sunday night. It was on past my bedtime, but I would put my head right up against my clock radio, and listen to it at a very low volume. The hard part was stifling my laughter when one of the more funny songs would come on. Imagine my surprise, when I found out that the Dr. Demento show was still on the air. Unfortunately, no one in my area carries the show anymore. However, I did find a radio station in California, KEGR, http://www.kegr.org/ that still plays older shows, and streams them online. So once again, every Sunday night from 10 p.m. to midnight, I'm tuned in to the Dr. Demento show. I'm just not cuddling with the clock radio anymore

I had also found an internet radio station that plays comedy music, called DementiaRadio; http://www.dementiaradio.org This has become my go to station when I'm working twelve hour shifts on the weekends. There are D.J.'s with their own shows, but there are also large blocks of time where songs in their playlist are played randomly. You can even access the playlist, and request songs through their automated d.j.!

Another place that I've begun to hang around is The Mad Music Archive; http://www.themadmusicarchive.com/ One needs to register to listen to their shows, but it is free. After spending some time listening, I've found a whole bunch of new songs to laugh to, and a lot of old songs to laugh to again.

So here's a few YouTube links to some comedy songs, to start you on your way to laughter. Some of the videos are of the artists themselves, and others are videos that people have put together to go with a particular song. Laugh, be happy, and smile. The smile that you share may go a long way in helping to brighten someone elses day.

For all of us 80's children, Buckner & Garcia's Pac-Man Fever; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kIhrrk-dmQE

A definite food related video; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmK0bZl4ILM

Redneck love; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiNoUbe7aHo

Another by Kacey Jones; the video is a little off the wall, but the lyrics make up for it. This one's for the women http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tW1BDiWMvrc

The Husband Song; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcPMKD8GFkI&feature=related

And, to save the best for last, The Colorectal Surgeon, by Bowser & Blue; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_N0w2rORwSc

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

The Mischief Maker

Ryan — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 13:21:23 +0000

Ahhhhh.....finally! A chance to actually sit, and relax. My first real day in almost two months, where I haven't had a list of things to try and plow through each day. After my electronics mayhem in May, all but the tv has been repaired. Unfortunately, that was not to be all of my mayhem. But at least now we know how the word mayhem came to be, and it certainly wasn't because it was a month of catastrophic sewing mishaps. Before the month was over, I managed to FUBAR my computer as well. For those that aren't familiar with the acronym, the polite version stands for, "Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition". However, during the moment of crisis, the first word is usually replaced with a much more direct F word. I am just now getting a handle on that whole issue as well.

Enough of the depressing stuff, let's get to the good stuff. After round one of my mayhem, I was determined to salvage my month of May. And what better way to do that, than to wreak havoc.....umm...mischief in someone's world?

Earlier in the year, my Better Half's daughter had expressed interest in wanting to paint her bedroom. So I told her that if she helped me paint one of the other rooms at their house this summer, then I would try to get her room painted by the end of this year. She readily agreed.

Well, as luck would have it, her school class was headed to an environmental camp in Maine in May for four days. Once I found out that she was going, the wheels in my mind started spinning. Under protest, mind you, but they started spinning. Miss M was going to be in for one big surprise when she got home!

In order to be a good mischief maker, one must possess three elements. Planning, planning, and s-i-l-e-n-c-e. Well, and the appropriate maniacal hand-wringing, and the occasional Mwahahahahahaha. One must also learn to be careful in how they converse with others, and use the proper tenses, so as to not give away anything before your mischief has been unleashed.

As soon as I found out that Miss M. was indeed heading to camp, I put in for a day off at work. The other days that I would need for the project were my regular days off, so I was covered there. My Better Half knew nothing about me asking for a day off, or the impending mischief. If you're going to make mischief, get as many people as you can!

Miss M. hadn't decided on a color yet, so I had to help her along. I told her that I had a number of projects to complete this summer (I do), and the sooner I had a color, the sooner I could get all of the supplies together. That way, when I could fit it into my schedule, I'd have everything ready. She fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. She had decided on a color, and I was off!

Being that this was the longest that she had ever spent away from home, I knew that there was a good chance that she would get homesick. Since the camp encouraged parents to write to their kids, I jotted down the address when no one was around. I then bought two cards, and sent them to the camp shortly before she was to go. (Planning, people, planning!) Again, my Better Half knew nothing of my actions.

As the first day of mischief arrived, I was itching to work. I waited until I knew that my Better Half had left to drop Miss M. off at school, and then I headed to the house. Throughout the day, while I took breaks to wait for the paint to dry, I would e-mail my Better Half from her house. However, I never let on that I was AT her house. And unbeknownst to her, before the first day was over, she had already derailed some of my mischievous undertakings. *sigh*

As my Better Half's son arrived home from school that day, he found me in his sister's room, painting away. And when he found out that he was the FIRST to know about my evil plans, if the grin on his face had grown any wider, his lower jaw would have popped right off! (Get as many as you can!)

As the afternoon was drawing to a close, I knew that it wouldn't be too long before my Better Half would arrive home from work. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough in cleaning up for the day. As I was scraping paint off my hands in the bathroom, she walked by the bathroom, stopped in the doorway, and asked, "What are you doing?". With head hung low, and trying to stifle a grin, I replied, "Trying to hide the evidence!" She noticed my painting pants, and shot back, "You've been painting Miss M.'s room, haven't you?". Ummmmm....yeah. *snicker*

Due to a meeting that my Better Half had forgotten about, and that I had noticed on the calendar, I had to divulge that I had taken the next day off. She had her meeting, and her son had baseball practice during the same time. I told her that I would pick him up from practice, and to stop ruining my mischievous plans. She then asked, "And when were you going to tell me that you had the day off? When I got home?". Well...yeah.

Before my Better Half found out about my plans, she had offered to let me pick up Miss M. when she arrived back from camp. While this put a damper on one plan, it opened up the opportunity for another. Plus I do thoroughly enjoy my time with the kids, and I missed Miss M.'s telling me about her days.

The boy did good, when we picked up his sister from school. He didn't let on that anything was amiss. He acted like it was just another regular day after school. As the time approached for their Mother to arrive home from work, Miss M. still hadn't gone upstairs to her room. I think I was twitching more than the boy was by this point! So I asked her to take her stuff upstairs to unpack. That way, Mom wouldn't have to do it when she got home, and she could listen to all of Miss M.'s stories without having to do anything else. Again, hook, line, and sinker. As she passed her brother on the couch with bags in hand, he looked back at me with a BIG grin on his face.

We listened to her as she walked up the stairs, and heard the doorknob turn as she opened her bedroom door. Then, there was silence. No scream, no thud on the floor (thank goodness!), nothing. Then we heard her slowly walk down the stairs, and enter the living room with a muted grin on her face, as she came over to give me a hug, and say 'thank you'. It is moments like those that make it worth all of the work, and the pain.

Yes, I said pain. After finishing her room that Thursday night, my neck and upper shoulder muscles had all tightened up on me. Bad. I couldn't sleep on my back, nor could I sleep on my sides for any length of time. I could only sleep on my chest, with my chin tucked into my chest, in order to keep my neck muscles stretched. And even then, I couldn't stay comfortable for long. It made for a miserable night, but the look on Miss M.'s face, and her happiness made it all worth it. As my Better Half later told me, "I'm going to have to call your work, and tell them to give you more work. You have too much time on your hands!" My body may lie at rest, but my mind is always active.

If I hadn't found Eat Right 4 Your Type a few years back, I would probably still be the overweight, lethargic, and mentally-fogged person that I used to be. I certainly wouldn't have had the energy, or the creativity, to pull off my mischief in May. So I guess some of the credit (and blame ) should rightly go to Dr. D'Adamo himself.

So the next time you're having a bad day/month/week, redirect that negative energy. Wreak havoc....ummm...mischief into someone elses world. The temporary bumps on your life's highway will be forgotten about before you know it, and you'll bring a smile into someone elses world.

Now go make mischief!

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

Affected Energies

Ryan — Mon, 12 May 2008 01:29:18 +0000

Odd things that you never thought you'd hear; "There should be a matchmaking service for electrical devices". Sounds bizarre, doesn't it? Well, maybe my recent happenings will help to explain the statement.

Some time ago, my home theatre receiver had died. Not as a result of age, but of poor airflow design. So when I got my tax refund, I figured that it was finally time to find a replacement.

I hadn't planned on buying a receiver on this particular day. One of the stops on my errand list was to a local music store, in search of some comedy cd's. While browsing the store, I happened to find one of the receivers that I had been researching online. Hemming and hawing, I walked out of the store without it. However, after running some more errands, I went back, and bought it. Little did I know at the time what "fun" would soon ensue.

As I happily headed home with my new purchase, I noticed that my car's outdoor temperature sensor was acting up. Even though it was around 70 degrees that day, my display was saying that it was only 41 degrees. I just figured the car was having a mental moment, and would clear itself the next day.

After getting home, I unpacked my new toy, and went about hooking up my various components to the receiver. Cassette deck, check. CD player, check. The VCR, well, that took a little time. Once I finally got a picture, I threw in a VCR tape, to make sure that it worked. There was a picture, but the tracking was off. As I'm trying to adjust the tracking, there is suddenly the sound of a loud "Pop!", and grey smoke comes rolling out of my VCR.

Part of me wants to laugh at the visual before me, but the saner side (and you thought that I didn't have one!) of me is telling me to quickly disconnect everything from the back of the VCR, and get it the heck out of the house! Fast-fingering the disconnects, I head past the kitchen with smoker in hand, only to notice that the clock on my stove is flashing 6:08. Thing was, it was 3 in the afternoon. Once my VCR ceased smoking outside, I headed back inside to reset the clock. Little did I know that the real fun was about to begin.

I found that my dishwasher had decided to act up as well. It would get down to a minute, but would never complete the last cycle. And now, instead of starting at 91 minutes, it would start at 2 hours. It's a conspiracy, I tell ya'! *chuckle* My electronics don't like the newcomer, and are giving me grief!

Off I headed to the computer, the click-clacking sound of keys a steady rhythm, as I roamed the Internet, looking for an answer to my newest problem. I finally found the answer to my problem, but wasn't too thrilled for the process involved in getting my dishwasher back up and running. It appears that some Bosch dishwashers have a bad heater relay joint, and the soldering lets go. However, it was either the process, or shell out $140 for a new circuit board, and a technician to install it, on top of the $140. Ryan's going to be learning how to solder!

With no disassembly instructions, nor soldering skills, I was off to roam the Internet again. After doing some reading about soldering, and watching a couple of short soldering videos, I began the task of figuring out how to disassemble the dishwasher. It took some time, but I finally managed to get to the circuit board, resolder the heater relay joint, and put the dishwasher back together. All well and good, but would it actually work? With crossed fingers, I ran the dishwasher, and watched it as it ticked down its final minutes. Success! It finished, and shut itself off.

So here I am, thinking that everything comes in threes, so I should be all set. Nope. Apparently, three things have to BREAK, before things return to normal. That Sunday morning, the pipe underneath my bathroom sink broke. *sigh*

If by chance you've been having a streak of good luck, that's because I've been getting all the bad luck lately. But I also know that once it's done, it's done for awhile. Better to get everything out of the way at once, than little by little.

I think that from now on, before I bring any electrical devices into the house again, I'm going to unplug everything that I have, and arrange it in a semi-circle on the living room floor. Then I'll bring the new device into the house, and everyone can have a little meet and greet. Maybe that way, I won't be subjected to so many breakages all at once. Your day doesn't sound so bad now, does it? *chuckle*

18 May 2008- I have now disproven the theory that things happen in threes. The television blew up on Tuesday. One of the capacitors had a meltdown, but with my new found soldering skills, I think I can fix it.

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

The Making of a Monster

admin — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 21:46:00 +0000

Can you just feel the love, when that is how you are described by your Better Half, to her Mother? Well, that is how I was described not too long ago. But honestly, it was all her Mother's fault. Honest!

Because of scheduling conflicts, my Better Half's family aren't able to get together until after Christmas. And as one of my Christmas gifts, her mother gave me a genealogy listing of my side of the family. A long time ago, my step-mother had at one time done a genealogy chart, some time back in the late '70's, early '80's. Where the chart is nowadays, I have no idea.

Little did my Better Half's mother realize the firestorm that would be created by her one little spark. Within three weeks, I had completely burnt myself out, by the sheer amount of research that I had done in that short time span. For that time, my eyes were glued to the computer screen at almost every available moment, fingers flying across the keyboard, with the clickety-clacking of keys, a pause to write down notes, and the resumption of clickety-clacks. I was half expecting the keyboard to raise a little white flag, and squeak, “I give”.

In the beginning, I started out with the names of 22 ancestors. Within that three week time span until meltdown, I had added another 140 names. Births, deaths, marriages, professions. Farmers, teachers, clerks, a locomotive engineer, participants in both the Civil, and Revolutionary wars, and others. And even a shotgun wedding. LOL The date that the couple was married, and the date that their first child was born, was just a little too close. The more information that I found, the more information that I wanted to find. My research was taking on a life of its own. It was becoming all consuming, and that's just not healthy. I finally had to step back, put everything down, and walk away.

There are still many gaps in my ancestral history, as I have it charted now. In the not too near future, I'm sure that I'll pick up my charts one day, the fire will be re-lit, and I'll be off and running, until I burn out again.

All of my initial research was done with the information that my Better Half's mother had given me, and hours spent online. Much of my time was spent at www.familysearch.org This website is a great start for finding out about your ancestors. However, the information provided is only as good as the source of the information, and the person who submitted it to the website. Cross-referencing submissions took some time at first, but once I started to become familiar with names, and dates, I was able to cross-reference quite quickly.

I've done about as much as I can online for now. This spring, it will be time to visit the historical societies of the towns where my ancestors were known to reside, in order to learn more about them. I can only imagine what kind of trouble I can get myself into, as I try to delve deeper into my family's history.

With all of the snow that we have had in my area this year (109 inches so far), working on this project was a great way to keep cabin fever at bay.

So the next time that you want to learn more about your ancestors, or just have a morbid curiousity as to what kind of skeletons are hanging in your family's closet, click your way over to www.familysearch.org, and let the fun begin.

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

Rollercoasting into 2008

admin — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 21:40:00 +0000

Happy New Year!

It’s hard to believe how sometimes, time can pass by as slow as molasses, and at other times, streak by like lightning. It’s been a little over two months since I last wrote, and yet it seems like it has been so much longer. Life, and the holidays have kept me busy, and maybe that’s been a good thing. With all of the losses that I endured in October, it was probably a good thing that I was kept busy.

Having known depression before ER4YT, I recognized the oncoming signs in early November. I wanted to just curl up on the couch, and block everything out, so that I could grieve. But I also knew that if I did, it would be a fast spiral down into depression. When I last had a bout of depression pre-ER4YT, I did curl up on the couch, and shut out the world. I didn’t care to answer the phone, I didn’t answer the door when friends came over to visit. I didn’t even care about getting up, and eating. Even taking a shower required a great deal of effort, just to get there. All I did was crash on the couch under a blanket, and either sleep, or mindlessly watch tv. It’s not a pretty place, and not one that I care to revisit again.

At one point in November, I did want to lay down on the couch, and immediately recognized my trigger point. I knew that if I did, it wasn’t going to go well. I turned away from the couch, and found a number of things to do. It didn’t matter what I did, as long as I was moving. In a short time, the feeling passed, and I was able to process my grief in a better way. Had I not had a good support system in place, consisting of my Better Half, and her kids, or had been in a mental fog due to the large consumption of avoids like in the past, it probably would have been a fast crash.

The house has been quite empty, without the pitter-patter of paws by Shorty and Nixie. Beser could sometimes be seen looking around the house for them, which brought memories of them to the forefront of my mind. In time, she has realized that she is at the top of the kitty hierarchy, and is sucking up attention for all it’s worth. She has now taken on some of their habits, such as demanding to be let in the bathroom after I’ve taken a shower, taking over my lap, and laying across the computer keyboard shelf. The cutest one that is all hers, is that she will lay on my chest and put a paw on each of my shoulders, and stay that way for awhile, kneading her paws, while looking at me. With such sharp claws, it becomes painful after awhile, but I let her be for as long as I can. Even though she is a constant reminder of Shorty, Nixie, and Miss Piggy, she’s also the one that has been a great help in getting me through the recent upheaval.

The last year was like a roller coaster. The months preceding October were like that long slow climb at the start of a roller coaster ride. Clickity-clack, clickity-clack, as you were pulled to the very top of the first hill. The month of October was that first steep drop. Short, sudden, and took your breath away. Now that the first drop is passed, life has leveled off, and things have been a bit better.

In the span of a week around Christmas, I saw three owls, including a gorgeous Snowy Owl that spent about 20 minutes outside my Better Half’s house on Christmas Day. Even with all of the hours I spend on the road during the night, I have never seen so many owls in such a short span of time. I recognized it as a sign of sorts, even if I wasn’t quite sure what it meant at the time. Life has started to return to a certain level of normalcy. My energy levels are back up, my twisted sense of humor has returned with a vengeance, my penchant for creating mischief is up, and my ability for quick, and witty comebacks has resurfaced. With those traits back in action, I know that life is on the upswing.

As Florence Scovel-Shinn put it, “It’s always darkest before the dawn. But the dawn always comes. Trust in the dawn”. October was that darkest moment. The sun is now rising, and I am going to bask in the warmth that the sun brings. It’s time to soak up its energy, and to spread and grow in every way during 2008. Well, except for a larger waistline. *chuckle* ER4YT helped me to lose that. We can skip working on that one this year. : )

May the new year be the beginning of a year filled with great health, happiness, and harmony.

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

Heartache and Hell

admin — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 16:51:00 +0000

In my last entry, I described how I must have missed the road sign that said, “Life Changing Detour Ahead”, when I had to say goodbye to Shorty. Apparently, I also missed the signs that said, “Rough Road Ahead”, and “Bridge Out”. The past 30 days have been the rollercoaster from hell, and I will never look at the month of October in the same way again.

Adjusting to the void left by Shorty’s passing was tough enough as it was. Little did I know at the time that it was merely the beginning of what would be a very painful month.

A week after Shorty’s passing, it was time to mourn the passing of the pet hamster that belonged to my Better Half’s kids. She was a cute little thing, and her and I would sometimes “chat” with each other. And every time that I would, their Chocolate Lab would get insanely jealous.

Two in two weeks. I figured that that would be enough. However, I would soon find out that their passing was merely the calm before the storm. Nothing could prepare me for the 24 hour whirlwind that was fast approaching.

The Friday before last, I received news that my Brother-In-Law had passed away some time the night before. As if that wasn’t enough, I came home from work that Saturday night, only to find that Nixie no longer had any control over her hips. Ah yes, nothing like feeling the weight of the world crushing in upon you. In spite of Nixie’s obvious disability, she tried not to let it slow her down. She was still whipping herself around the house, pulling herself with her front legs. A small blessing, having wood, and tile floors. Between the two events, the sledgehammer had struck.

I called work, and told them to have someone cover for me on Sunday. I slept with Nixie on the couch that night, and whenever she would need to get something to eat, or use the litter box, I would help her to where she needed to be. Her spirit was still strong, but the body would no longer cooperate. Sunday was a very quiet day at the house, so that she could enjoy her last hours resting, and in peace and quiet. I would jump at every sound, and go to make sure that she was still comfortable.

Monday morning came, and for one last time, she wanted up on my bed. Lifting her up next to me, she curled up on the bed, and we enjoyed our last hour together. As soon as the vet’s opened at 8, I made the phone call, and arranged to take her in. Just like Shorty, Nixie was a trooper to the very end, still purring away until her last moments.

Having done what I needed to do with a heavy heart, it was time to turn my attention to my Brother-In-Law. In most families, when they lose a family member, the family pulls together. In my family, this was not possible. My sister, his “wife”, had burned too many bridges between us siblings. We each had our various reasons for not wanting to be around her, as well as for how poorly she had treated our BIL, but also how her actions impacted our nephew, and the relationship with his father. My sister had gone to school, and after school was completed, decided to stay down south, keeping my nephew with her. Our BIL remained here to work on the farm. Their marriage has pretty much been in name only these past few years. Our BIL had been so beaten down by this time, that he didn’t have the energy to fight, and he was afraid that he would see his son even less than he already did, if he had.

I have not seen, or spoken to my sister in seven years, and I certainly had no desire to start now. But it was also important for me to go to the funeral, to pay my last respects to my BIL, and to honor him for his service to our country. My other sister and brother would not go to the funeral because of our sister’s presence, and that of several others. I chose to go in spite of them.

On the day of the funeral, my Better Half accompanied me. In part to support me, and also to help keep me out of jail. I knew that if I opened my mouth, all hell was going to break loose, and I would probably be seeing the inside of a jail cell for the first time. The only thing that was keeping me restrained was my respect for my BIL. Before we even arrived at the cemetery, my stomach was already twisting into a knot. It took a bit, but I managed to push that feeling away.

For those that know me, I’m a pretty laid back guy, with a twisted sense of humor, and a soft side for critters. That guy was not present on this day. I don’t think that I have ever felt so much tension in my body ever before. Especially after seeing my sister play up being the grieving widow for all it was worth, and shedding crocodile tears. Ever been so angry that you experienced tunnel vision? I was there. The folks that didn’t really know her may have bought her performance, but there were those of us there that knew the real her. The fact that she received the flag for him brought me very close to the edge, knowing that it was all an act, and that she wasn’t worthy of receiving such an honor. If anything, the flag should have gone to his mother, or my nephew. It would have meant far more to either of them. When the bugler started playing Taps, I started shaking, and didn’t stop until the soldier was done. I don’t know why I shook so badly as it was played, but it wasn’t something that I could control.

As soon as the service was over, I needed to get the hell out of there. My teeth were clenched, and my blood pressure had skyrocketed. I could tell just by the feel. As much as I wanted to comfort my nephew, there was no way that I could go near him with my sister there. I’ve done well to surround myself with people that are full of positive energy, and being around my sister feels like being sucked into the black hole of negativity. Has for years, and another reason why my siblings and I choose not to associate with her.

Thanks to my Better Half, I made it out of there quietly, respectfully, and handcuff-free. I came to pay my last respects to a man who was decent, generous, a hard worker, and a good father, all in spite of how my sister treated him. A man who was, is, and will always be considered far more a member of the family than one of our own blood.

Rest In Peace, my good man. You have seen the horrors of war, and carried those memories with you for some 35 years. You have fought those personal demons, as well as those created at the hands of my sister. You may have considered yourself just a “dumb ol’ farmer”, but you were, and are, a far greater man than many could ever hope to be. May you watch over your son as he finds his way in life, and help to guide him in making the right choices as he grows older. Until we meet again on the other side.

Original post blogged on b2evolution.

Life Changing Detour Ahead

admin — Mon, 08 Oct 2007 03:09:00 +0000

As we all travel down our own personal highways of life, road signs often present themselves to us, guiding us in the direction that we need to be going in, should we decide to heed their advice. Somehow, I missed the sign that said, “Life Changing Detour Ahead”. Either that, or someone forgot to put the sign out. Reflecting back over the last few weeks, I saw the sign. I just didn’t expect to come upon the detour quite so quickly. I had planned on making an entry last week, but this certainly isn’t what I had in mind.

With great sadness, I had to make the decision to have one of my Clan O’Kitties put down on Thursday. Within hours, my week went from going well, to truly heart wrenching. I knew that the time was coming for Shorty, by certain behaviors that I have seen all of my animals exhibit, shortly before their health started to deteriorate. However, she was still shaking the house with her earth moving purring, and I thought that she still had time on her side. I was wrong.

Shorty was my Maine Coon cat, a black, brown, and white beauty, with big green eyes that would just suck you right in. Give her five minutes, and you’d be wrapped around her paw. At 16 ½ years of age, she still acted like a feline that was many years younger. And with thirteen pounds packed on to her frame, she made a presence that you could not long ignore. From hearing, and feeling her trot down the hallway before seeing her, or having her crush in my chest as she went to lay on it for some one on one time, you couldn't help but notice her.

Shorty came to me in early 2003, along with her mother, Miss Piggy, who passed away in January 2006. A friend of a friend was going through a divorce, and needed to find a home for her kitties. Beser was my only cat, and I thought it might be nice for her to have some company. What I hadn’t been told beforehand, was that of the four kitties in need of a home, one was a mother/daughter pair, and the other was a mother/son pair. As they were all older cats, there was no way that I could bring myself to split up a family. Yeah, I’m like a Charms Blow Pop. A hard outer shell, with a soft, chewy center. After taking on Nixie at the age of 16 in 2004, I became known as the ryan Cheney Home for Geriatric Kitties. *chuckle*

To some people, animals are just animals. To others, they are like members of the family. For people like myself, they are something far more. On more than one occasion, my Better Half has commented on how much she enjoys watching me interact with the kitties. After much observation and interaction, the kitties and I have developed a definite connection, and bond. Which made it all the more painful, when I had to make the decision to put her down.

Treatment was not an option. As I spent time with her in the hours before taking her to the vets for her appointment, I found that she was neither eating, or drinking. To attempt treatment would have only prolonged her suffering. Remarkably, after a series of poking and prodding, and up until a few moment before the Doctor came in to do what she had to do, Shorty was still purring away. But she knew it was her time. And she accepted her fate gracefully, not even so much as a flinch when the Doctor inserted the needle.

The days since her passing have not been easy. Even though I try to focus on other things, my mind always finds its way back to Shorty. Memories of the past come flooding through, and thoughts of what will no longer be. No more of her meeting me at the door, after coming home from a 12 hour work day. No more of her laying sideways across my stomach, with her big paws stretched out. No longer will she be party to cornering me on the couch along with Nixie and Beser. Shorty would secure the left flank, Nixie, the lap, and Beser would commandeer the right arm of the couch. Pinned in, I could do nothing but offer attention, and affection. I will no longer need to clean out the soap dish after taking a shower, just to watch her stand on her hind legs in the bathtub, with her front paws on the edge of the tub, and lick the water out of the empty soap dish. Yes, she had me trained well. It was the last thing I did, before shutting the shower off. Never again will I see her sitting on the toilet seat, and watching me as I get dressed for the day. Nor will I have one of her big paws pat my face, saying, “Pay attention to me!”, a habit that she picked up from Nixie.

They say that time heals all wounds. This one’s gonna take awhile. All of my critters have meant a great deal to me, but there was just something different about Shorty. You could tell just by looking into those big, green eyes. She will be missed deeply. But life goes on, and so must I. I have Beser and Nixie to tend to. At 19 ½, Nixie is in her golden years, and I have to make the most of the time that we have left with each other.

Rest in peace, Shorty. May you have felt as much, if not more love, as I feel blessed to have had you as a part of my life. Until we meet in my dreams, or on the other side.

Original post blogged on b2evolution.