Category Archives: Leukemia

Catching Up, Slowing Down, and a Growing Family

07 Monday Sep 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Twins

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’m behind on my WP blog reading. It’s been a rough couple of days with this fatigue. I’ve been doing pretty well with the dizziness, but between this extreme heat we’re having and the fatigue, life has slowed down to a crawl. I haven’t been doing much more than sleeping my life away.

Right now, I’m waiting on my phone to charge enough to last through the night so I can use it for my alarm in the morning. I’m going to try to go to bed early tonight, so once I’m done catching up, I’m calling it a night regardless of how much charge is left. 4 a.m. will come early, and I need to be up and moving so I can make it to Bible study by 6 a.m. Apparently, my body and I have different opinions about what constitutes a reasonable bedtime.

Because it’s been so hot, even in my garage, when I am awake, I’ve usually got my Kindle out, and I’m reading. I’ve started reading one of my favorite authors, John Grisham, again. I’ve read just about every book he’s written. I took inventory the other day and discovered I only have ten more books to read before I’ll be completely caught up.

He just came out with his latest book, and he already has another one scheduled to be published in 2028. Yep, I’ve already got that one on my “to read” list, too. I may be tired, but apparently I’m still organized enough to plan my reading schedule several years in advance.

My wife, my twin girls, and I also met up with my son’s future in-laws. My son wanted to use today’s holiday as an opportunity for all of us to finally meet. We had a great time getting to know them. They may be a little higher class than what we’re used to, but they are really nice people and were incredibly easy to talk to. I’m hoping we’ll have more opportunities to get together before—and even after—my son’s wedding.

Oh, by the way, my son is getting engaged next week.

They’ve already set the wedding date for sometime in March of next year. So, that makes two.

My daughter, who got engaged a few months ago, will be getting married in June, and my son will be getting married in March. That means we’ll only have one more to get married off.

At this point, I’m not sure when that will happen, but we’re not in any big hurry. I’m pretty sure my daughter isn’t either.

I do have a fishing date planned for this Wednesday. It may take me a little longer to get to my fishing hole because of this fatigue, but I’ve got it on my calendar anyway. Sometimes you just have to put something on the calendar and hope your body gets the memo.

So, I guess we’ve officially entered the “planning weddings” phase of life. Between that, Bible study, reading, fishing, trying to stay cool, and trying to convince my body that sleeping all day isn’t actually a hobby, plenty is going on around here.

I just wish I had a little more energy to actually participate in it.

Medication: Round Two

04 Friday Sep 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized, Weather

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

After having a discussion with my oncologist, he wanted me to stay off the meds for a few days before starting them again. So, after being off the medication for those few days, I started back on it last Tuesday night.

The thought was that if any side effects were going to reappear after restarting the medication, they would probably show their ugly faces sometime Thursday or Friday morning. Well, it’s Friday afternoon, and so far, the only side effect I’m feeling is a little fatigue. I can handle that.

I haven’t really felt like doing much other than sitting around and reading, but I finally decided I needed to get up and start moving around.

I’ve started doing some more cleaning in the garage since I haven’t been able to do much out there with everything that’s been going on, including my daughter being in the hospital. I’ve also been trying to get a little yard work done.

Today, after breakfast, I got the hose out, hooked up the sprinkler, and started watering my front yard.

Apparently, Moses is out there somewhere with his arms stretched out, parting the rain and making sure it doesn’t fall on my yard. It’s raining everywhere else, but not here.

After securing the hose to the house and the other end to the sprinkler, I turned the water on. Then I had to sit down for a few minutes and rest up. With the heat we’re experiencing here—100 degrees plus—and the fatigue from the medication, it doesn’t take much to wear me out.

While the sprinkler was doing its thing, I stepped into the garage and started doing some much-needed cleaning. Although it’s a little bit of a “rob Peter to pay Paul” situation, I am making some progress.

I was able to make the path from my basement door to the house door much wider, so you’re a lot less likely to trip and fall. That may not sound like a major accomplishment, but when you’re trying to keep a garage organized, sometimes making a path you can actually walk through feels like a pretty big victory.

Of course, with this heat, even in the garage, it’s hard to do much without having to sit down and rest for a while.

After about three hours of watering the yard, I finally stopped the garage cleaning, turned off the water, and secured the hose.

Even with the heat and the fatigue, I managed to get a few things accomplished today. That feels pretty good.

I didn’t make it to the men’s Bible study last Saturday, so I’m looking forward to the fellowship tomorrow morning—assuming my side effects continue to cooperate.

Anytime you have a different medication introduced into your system, it’s always a good idea to pay attention to what your body is telling you and to be aware of the possible side effects. It’s also important to let your doctor know about anything unusual you’re experiencing.

One thing I learned from a lady who was part of the original clinical trial for one of the medications I was on at one time really stuck with me.

She explained that if, at any time during the study, someone came in with any kind of ailment—a headache, a stomachache, a rash, anything—it went into the report. If enough people came in reporting the same issue, regardless of whether it actually had anything to do with the medication or not, it could eventually become listed as a possible side effect.

That’s one reason it’s so important to pay attention, speak up, and keep your doctor informed.

For now, I’m taking things one day at a time, trying to stay active when I can, and being thankful that the dizziness hasn’t returned. Hopefully, things will continue moving in the right direction.

Listen to What Your Body is Telling You.

30 Sunday Aug 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I was reminded of that today while reading a blog post I follow. Hazel reminded me that no matter what I’m doing, I need to listen to what my body is telling me. Sometimes we have a tendency to push through things, thinking we’ll be okay. Other times, our bodies have a way of making it very clear that we need to slow down.

Mine has been doing a pretty good job of getting my attention lately.

I started a new medication for my CML last Thursday. I’m taking two tablets, 40 mg each. I’m supposed to take them on an empty stomach, with no food for two hours before and at least one hour after taking them. I took them at bedtime both Thursday and Friday.

Friday night was rough.

I had a very restless night and finally decided to get out of bed around 3 a.m.—or at least I attempted to.

I sat up and immediately became dizzy. I sat there for a few minutes and waited for it to pass. When I finally stood up, the dizziness returned, and I nearly hit the floor. I grabbed the wall to keep myself upright and waited another couple of minutes before attempting to move.

Eventually, I made it to the den and collapsed into my recliner. I was exhausted. I felt like I had absolutely nothing left in the tank.

I tried going back to sleep, but I couldn’t get comfortable. I decided I would read for a while, but, of course, my glasses were in the bedroom.

I really, really didn’t want to get back up.

I knew what was probably going to happen.

Sure enough, when I stood up, the dizziness hit again. I nearly fell backward into the recliner. I grabbed hold of something and waited for it to subside. After a minute or so, I was able to make my way to the bedroom, retrieve my glasses and return to the den.

By the time I got back to my chair, I was wondering if I had enough energy to make the trip again if I had forgotten something.

Around 5 a.m., I finally decided I needed to find out exactly what might be going on. I made my way to the kitchen and retrieved the medication information packet that came with the prescription.

I started reading through the list of possible side effects.

Number three was dizziness and feeling faint.

Bingo.

Unfortunately, there was nothing listed specifically about fatigue. Later, I learned that fatigue is a side effect associated with many cancer medications, so apparently I managed to get a two-for-one special.

Dizziness and fatigue.

Just what I was hoping for.

I texted the guys in our Saturday morning Bible study group and told them not to expect me. I explained that I believed I was experiencing side effects from the new medication and that I simply wasn’t feeling well.

I spent most of the rest of the day in my recliner, getting up only when I absolutely had to.

I slept a little better Saturday night, but I’m still dealing with the fatigue and dizziness when I stand. Because of that, I didn’t go to church this morning either. Thankfully, I was able to watch the service on YouTube.

I had been thinking about going fishing Monday.

I’ve changed my mind.

At this point, I seriously doubt I’ll feel up to it. And honestly, I don’t think getting into a kayak while I’m dizzy is exactly what my doctor would recommend. Besides, I’m pretty sure the fish would take advantage of the situation and laugh at me.

I don’t have any appointments until Tuesday morning Bible study, and I’m really hoping I’ll be feeling better by then.

I’m also not taking any more of this medication until I speak with my oncologist on Monday. I want to talk with him about what happened and see what my options are. Maybe there is a way to adjust the dosage so that the medication can still do what it’s supposed to do without making me feel like I’m one wrong step away from becoming a human tumbleweed.

I’ve spent a lot of years dealing with CML and everything that comes with it. I know how important it is to take the medication and follow the treatment plan.

But I’m also learning that following the plan doesn’t mean ignoring what my body is telling me.

Sometimes you have to stop, pay attention and say, “Something isn’t right.”

That’s where I am right now.

So, for the moment, I’m going to listen to my body, stay in my recliner, and let my oncologist help me figure out what comes next.

Maybe the fishing rod can wait a few more days.

The fish aren’t going anywhere.

Well… at least I hope they aren’t.

The 80/20 Decision

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I had an iron infusion today. Before I went to the treatment room, I was unexpectedly led to an exam room, where I waited for several minutes.

I was beginning to get a little concerned because I had another doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, and I really didn’t want to be late. My normal infusions take approximately two hours, so I had a right to be concerned.

Eventually, my doctor stuck his head in the door and told me he needed to see me, but it would have to wait until after my infusion. He assured me that the information he had for me wasn’t bad.

Of course, there’s nothing quite like a doctor telling you, “It’s not bad,” and then walking away.

That statement may be reassuring to him, but my brain immediately responded with, “Well, if it’s not bad, why can’t you tell me now?”

My infusion itself went according to plan. They gave me Benadryl as a precautionary measure, and within a few minutes, I was sound asleep.

I always bring my Kindle with me so I can read while I’m getting my infusion.

I don’t know why.

I think I have brought that Kindle to every infusion I’ve had, and I’m pretty sure the most I’ve ever accomplished was getting past the title page.

At this point, the Kindle is basically just an expensive security blanket.

I should probably start bringing a pillow instead.

Once the infusion was finished, I finally got to meet with my oncologist.

Thankfully, the meeting wasn’t nearly as bad as I had imagined.

It was about that one marker that just can’t seem to behave itself. Apparently, there is a new drug available, and my doctor would like me to consider trying it. He gave me some literature to take home and asked me to let him know by next week whether I want to give it a try.

The biggest reason he wants me to consider it is the success rate. According to what he told me, about 80 percent of the people who take this drug can be free of the cancer within five years.

Eighty percent.

That’s pretty encouraging.

Then there’s the other 20 percent.

Those are the people who will have to remain on some type of medication for the rest of their lives.

And, knowing my luck, I’ll probably be sitting in the 20 percent section.

I can see it now.

“Congratulations! You have been selected for the premium medication package. Unfortunately, there is no prize.”

Of course, I’m joking…mostly.

There are also some potential side effects that I need to consider. Upon first inspection, there are concerns about pancreatitis, heart problems, and kidney problems.

Unfortunately, those aren’t exactly unfamiliar words to me. Most of these are things that I’m already dealing with or being constantly monitored for.

Apparently, my body likes to keep my doctors employed.

That’s probably one of the reasons I’m hesitant to make a quick decision.

My doctor gave me some literature to take home and read so I can make an informed decision.

I’ll probably need the “Cliff Notes” version to fully understand what I’m reading.

Medical literature has a way of taking something that could probably be explained in three sentences and turning it into twelve pages of words that require a medical degree, a dictionary, and possibly a translator.

I’m sure somewhere in those pages it will say something like, “This medication may cause some serious side effects.”

Then I’ll spend the next three hours wondering if a headache means I’m dying.

On the other hand, the possibility of eventually being free of the cancer is hard to ignore.

I’ve been dealing with this for years, so the thought of taking a different medication with the possibility of reaching that point is certainly appealing.

Now I have a week to read through the information, think about it, and probably drive myself crazy trying to decide what I should do.

I suppose that’s the downside of being given choices.

Sometimes it’s easier when someone else just tells you what to do.

For now, I’m going to read the literature, talk to my doctor if I have questions, and try not to let my imagination get the best of me.

After all, I’ve already spent two hours today worrying about news that turned out not to be bad.

I might as well give my brain a little time off before it starts worrying about the next thing.

And if anyone needs me, I’ll be over here reading my “Cliff Notes”…

assuming I can figure out what the Cliff Notes are saying.

One Positive Result

18 Tuesday Aug 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I got an email yesterday from the place that did my recent oncology lab work.

I was at my mom and dad’s house celebrating my birthday when the email came in. Of course, I immediately noticed it and started debating whether or not I should open it.

Part of me thought, “If it’s good news, I’ll open it and share it with everyone.”

But if it was bad news?

Well, I probably wouldn’t want to open it while I was surrounded by family. I’d probably gather everyone together, tell them what was going on, and then go home.

That may sound a little dramatic, but when you’ve been dealing with cancer for more than a decade, you learn that opening a lab report can feel a lot like opening a Christmas present from someone who doesn’t particularly like you.

You just don’t know what’s inside.

After a little discussion with my wife, I decided to bite the bullet and open the email.

For months, my test results have come back negative.

I’ve learned not to get too excited when I see those negative results, though. As much as I would love to believe that things are going to stay that way forever, I know better.

Eventually, something is going to change.

And change it did.

Of the three markers they check, one of them came back positive for BCR-ABL1.

Now, before anybody starts panicking, it’s not the end of the world.

It’s something we’ve seen before, and hopefully, when I have my labs checked again in a few months, that number will come back down.

My oncologist called me today to go over the results. He explained that I need another iron infusion, which isn’t exactly surprising considering my iron levels have been giving me fits lately.

As for the elevated BCR-ABL1 marker, we’re not going to change anything right now.

We’ll wait and see what happens.

If it continues to stay high, then we may have to look at changing medications. But for now, it’s a matter of keeping an eye on it and letting the medication continue doing what it’s supposed to do.

And honestly, this isn’t the first time we’ve been here.

We’ve seen this movie before.

I just wish they would quit making sequels.

For now, I’m going to continue taking my medication, get the iron infusion, have my labs checked again in a few months, and hopefully get another email that says everything is back where it should be.

Until then, I’m going to try not to worry about something that hasn’t happened yet.

After all, I’ve learned over the years that when it comes to my lab results, there’s not much I can do about the numbers once the blood has left my arm.

I just have to wait for the next chapter.

And hopefully, the next chapter is a little less exciting than this one.

When the Climb Feels Steeper

01 Saturday Aug 2026

Posted by in bariatric-surgery, Cancer, Depression, Disability, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized, Weight Loss

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

There are days when I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. It seems like nothing I do matters anymore.

Lately, nothing really excites me. All I want to do is sit and do absolutely nothing. The television doesn’t interest me, so I turn it off. I tried reading, but after a sentence or two, I put the book back down.

I’m going through my daily routines simply because they’re expected of me, but I’m not getting much out of them.

If you’ve been following my journey for any length of time, you know I’ve dealt with some pretty serious health issues. Thankfully, since my gastric bypass surgery, my health has improved in several ways. But my CML is still there, and it’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life.

I’ll be honest. It’s a constant battle not to end up in the frame of mind I’m in right now. I’m not at the point where I’d say I’m depressed, but I also can’t pretend it isn’t peeking around the corner.

I can’t tell you what triggers these episodes. They just seem to appear out of nowhere, and when they do, it usually takes me a couple of days to climb back out.

Is this just a “woe is me” moment? Maybe. I can’t completely rule that out. But even if it is, is it really so terrible that I have days like this every now and then?

I’ve been doing some yard work around the house—things that genuinely needed to be done—but my heart just wasn’t in it. I had the opportunity to go fishing on Friday, something I normally look forward to, but I made every excuse in the book not to go. Instead, I stayed home and worked in the yard.

This morning, I spent a few hours volunteering at church with some friends. While I was there, I genuinely enjoyed myself. We laughed, got some work done, and for a little while, everything felt normal.

On the drive home, I found myself thinking about all the things I wanted to do once I got back. That alone gave me hope. I thought maybe I was finally climbing out of this hole.

But as soon as I walked through the front door, that feeling disappeared. The heaviness came right back, and I honestly don’t know why.

Since getting home, I’ve done little more than sit in this recliner, not really wanting to do much of anything.

Maybe what I really need is a change of scenery. I need a break from doctor’s appointments every other day. I need to go somewhere where I don’t have to wonder what’s going to break next—or assume I’ll be the one expected to fix it.

On a brighter note, my wife’s car is finally back. That means I won’t have to chauffeur her to appointments anymore, and I can start making plans without first checking to see if she needs me somewhere else.

I’ll be okay. I’ve been through these seasons before. They come, and they go. Right now, the climb just feels a little steeper than usual.

Sometimes life is less about never falling into the hole and more about remembering that you’ve climbed out before. I’m trusting that, with God’s help, I’ll climb out again.

My Mouth Has Declared a Revolt

30 Thursday Jul 2026

Posted by in Amateur Radio, Cancer, Diabetic, Disability, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I believe I’ve mentioned this a couple of times before, but I have a love/hate relationship with doctors. When it comes to dentists, though, it’s a little different—I absolutely despise dentistry. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dentist, but I hate everything about going to see him.

I know how important it is to take care of my teeth. I’ve also been told—although I’m not sure how much truth there is to it—that having CML can affect your dental health. Whether that’s the culprit or not, my teeth seem determined to keep my dentist in business.

About two weeks ago, I noticed what I thought was a missing filling. I already had an appointment scheduled to have my teeth cleaned, so I called the office to see if they could replace the filling during the same visit. When I got there, my dentist took one look and informed me that it wasn’t a missing filling at all—it was a broken tooth. That meant scheduling yet another appointment to get it fixed.

Then, last Friday, while I was out fishing with my daughter, I bit into a peanut butter cracker and heard that dreaded little crunch. Sure enough, I had managed to break another tooth. Because apparently my teeth have a flair for dramatic timing, this one was on the opposite side of my mouth… and my appointment to fix the first tooth was the following Tuesday.

On Monday morning, I called the dentist’s office to let them know I’d added another broken tooth to my collection. I figured if they were already going to be working in my mouth, they might as well fix both while they had me in the chair.

I’ve been going to the same dentist for more than forty years, so we’ve developed a pretty good rapport. Naturally, his first question was whether I’d been eating rocks again.

Before long, he had both sides of my jaw full of the magic juice that makes you feel like your face is sliding off your skull. He drilled both teeth and fitted them with temporary crowns.

About an hour after I got home, the numbness started to wear off. The right side of my mouth seemed perfectly fine, but the left side was a completely different story. I’m not sure why, but even two days later it’s still pretty sore.

Then this morning, while eating a bowl of Cheerios, I felt something strange. Sure enough, the temporary crown on my right side had come loose. It’s currently sitting on the table beside my recliner, patiently waiting for me to throw it in the trash.

I go back to the dentist on August 5th to have the permanent crowns installed, so I think I’m just going to wait. Knowing my luck, they’d put another temporary crown on, and I’d probably find a way to break that one too.

Have I mentioned lately just how much I despise going to the dentist?

At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if my dentist sends me a Christmas card thanking me for helping put one of his kids through college.

Benadryl, Broken Noses, and a Busy Day

20 Monday Jul 2026

Posted by in Boy Scouts, Family, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Today started out busy, and judging by my calendar, it’s only the beginning.

I had two doctor appointments today—one at 10:00 a.m. and another at 3:00 p.m.

My first stop was my oncologist’s office for an iron infusion. They usually take about two hours, so I figured I’d have plenty of time to get home, eat lunch, and make it to my physical therapy appointment.

Well… that was the plan.

The infusion ended up lasting nearly three hours, which turned my carefully planned schedule into a race against the clock.

Before the infusion, they always draw blood to check my iron levels and determine if—and when—I’ll need another treatment. Then comes the fun part. They hook me up to a small IV bag of Benadryl.

They use Benadryl to offset any reaction I may have to the infusion.

I don’t know about everyone else, but Benadryl absolutely knocks me out. I’m talking “you could redecorate the room around me, and I’d never know it” kind of asleep.

I had brought my Kindle to pass the time, but after the Benadryl started flowing, I don’t remember making it past the second page.

A lady sitting next to me was receiving three bags of chemotherapy. I knew I’d been asleep for quite a while when I woke up, and she was already on her third bag.

When I finally came to, my iron infusion was almost finished. I did my best to stay awake long enough for the nurse to remove the IV. Truthfully, I could have happily curled up in that recliner and taken another nap, but I had places to be.

Downstairs, I stopped to pay for parking. An elderly lady ahead of me was having trouble with the payment machine. Her card wouldn’t work, and she didn’t have another card or any cash. I asked her to cancel the transaction, scan her ticket again, and I paid for her parking.

Four dollars wasn’t going to make me go broke.

My good deed for today.

She thanked me several times before heading on her way, and then I paid for my own parking.

My physical therapy appointment went well, although concentrating wasn’t exactly easy with all that Benadryl still floating through my system. I think my therapist took one look at me, decided I wasn’t going to set any personal records that afternoon, and let me go home about ten minutes early.

Tomorrow will be another busy day. I’ll have to miss my Tuesday morning Bible study because I’m taking my dad to the doctor to have his broken nose checked after his fall.

He’s already informed me that he has no intention of letting them reset it.

According to him, he broke it as a kid, it’s been crooked ever since, and he doesn’t see much point in making it straight now.

At 87 years old, I guess he’s decided that a crooked nose has become part of his identity. Who am I to argue with that?

The Kind of Person I Want to Be

19 Tuesday May 2026

Posted by in Leukemia, Life

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

I had an oncologist appointment today. It didn’t last long. All that was scheduled was some bloodwork and a shot to help increase the production of my red blood cells.

The whole visit only lasted about thirty minutes.

As I was leaving the office, I found myself walking behind two elderly women. It looked to be a mother and daughter. The mother was using a cane and appeared to be having just as much trouble walking as I was.

I wasn’t in a hurry, so I stayed behind them as we made our way to the elevator. The three of us rode down to the first floor and then slowly walked down the corridor past the ER entrance and toward the parking deck payment kiosk.

The daughter scanned her parking ticket and tried to pay the $4 fee with four one-dollar bills.

The machine refused to take her money.

She tried several times, but the kiosk never gave her any option other than paying with a card.

By then, several more people had crowded into the small payment area. I could tell the daughter was becoming frustrated and embarrassed. She looked over at me and motioned for me to go ahead and pay for mine first.

After I paid for my parking, I turned to her and asked if she would hand me her ticket.

I scanned it and paid for their parking.

At first, both the mother and daughter looked confused and uncertain about what I was doing. But when I handed her the receipt, they realized what had happened. The expressions on their faces immediately changed to relief and gratitude. I think they were genuinely worried about how they were going to get out of the parking deck.

Truthfully, I was just going to quietly pay for it and leave without saying another word. But the daughter insisted on paying me back the four dollars.

And honestly, THIS is the person I usually am.

This is how I was raised.

I don’t care what color you are, what political party you belong to, whether you’re young or old, rich or poor — if I see someone struggling and I’m able to help, I’ll do what I can.

I follow a blogger on this platform whose husband and she are both living on Social Security. Between insurance costs and medications, they barely have enough left over for groceries. Recently, she asked if anyone could help.

I don’t get paid until later this week, but as soon as I do, I plan on sending them a little something.

Not because I have plenty.

Not because I’m trying to impress anyone.

But because I know what it feels like to need help.

I enjoy helping people. And to be honest, I especially love helping when people don’t even know where the help came from.

Sometimes the world feels angry, divided, and selfish.

But small acts of kindness still matter.

Maybe now more than ever.

Built with Love (and a Little Bit of Crooked Math)

30 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Cancer, Disability, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, Woodworking

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

With Mother’s Day fast approaching, I decided it was time to push through the pain and make something for my mom. She loves plants—like, really loves plants—so I figured a couple of wooden planters would be the perfect gift. Plus, I’ve got a pile of scrap wood that’s been quietly judging me for months, including some cypress fencing material my wife has been not-so-subtly encouraging me to “do something with.”

So, around 9:30 this morning, I dragged all my equipment outside and got to work. By about 11:30, I had everything cut down to size and was feeling pretty good about life. That’s usually the exact moment things take a turn.

I started assembling the first planter and quickly realized something wasn’t right. The pieces weren’t lining up like the plans said they should. Now, the plans called for ¾-inch wood… and I’m working with ½-inch. Details, right? Apparently not. Turns out, those little fractions matter.

Still, I pressed on.

At this point, I’ve got one planter about 90% complete. It’s… let’s just say “custom shaped.” Not exactly square, which means putting the top boards on requires some math. And if you’ve followed me for any length of time, you already know—math and I are not on speaking terms. I’m pretty sure an angle finder is in my near future, the next time I wander into the store pretending I know what I’m doing.

After spending most of the day bending, lifting, and moving around, my back has officially filed a formal complaint. Sitting usually doesn’t bother me, but tonight I can’t seem to find a position that doesn’t make me question why I thought this was a good idea. The heating pad is doing its best, but the second I move, my back reminds me who’s really in charge. I took a pain pill earlier, but it’s apparently operating on its own schedule.

After looking at what I’ve completed on this planter, I’m not really happy with it. It’s one of those projects that looked a whole lot better in my head than it does sitting in front of me. So, there’s a good chance this one becomes a “keep it at the house” planter, and I’ll come up with something else for Mom.

I guess you could say this was my practice run… whether I planned it that way or not.

It all really depends on how I’m feeling after this upcoming pain block. If I can get a little relief and move around without feeling like my back is plotting against me, I may give it another shot and build something I’m actually proud to give her.

If not, well… Mom may be getting something a little less handmade and a little more store-bought this year—and honestly, she’ll probably love it just the same.

As for doctor updates, I’ve now got two appointments lined up—one with the orthopedic in mid-June and another with a pain specialist next Thursday. I’m hoping the pain specialist can help take the edge off until June gets here.

And yes, I’ll admit it… I probably shouldn’t have stayed out on that kayak as long as I did last Thursday. But I’ll still argue it was worth it. I needed that time on the water—maybe just not that much time.

Tomorrow looks like it’ll be a recliner day. I plan on catching up on my Bible study material for Tuesday morning. Theology isn’t exactly my strong suit, but I’m giving it my best shot—kind of like woodworking and math.

I also had a visit with my oncologist last week. My iron levels were low again, so they gave me a shot of Epoetin alfa to help boost my red blood cell production. They also ran my BCR-ABL1 test to check on my CML. The last several tests over the past six months have come back non-detectable, which is great news. I’m curious to see how this one turns out, though—it seems like those numbers like to keep me guessing. Should have results in a few days.

Other than that, things are pretty quiet around here. I’ll finish up that planter (eventually), survive the math, and hopefully have something worth showing for it.

I’ll check back in when I’ve got something else to write about… or when the second planter decides to humble me too.