If you’ve known me for more than five minutes, you know I live by my calendar. It’s not just a planner — it’s my Bible, my life map, and my emotional support spreadsheet. I color-code, I plan ahead, and if something’s not on the schedule, it’s basically not real.
So imagine my stress level when my mom landed in the hospital and my siblings decided we all need to “take turns sitting with her.”
Now, before anyone clutches their pearls — she’s fine. She’s getting great care from an entire team of professionals who actually know what they’re doing. The woman is being treated better than most people at a five-star resort.
Meanwhile, my siblings and I are out here acting like we need to take shifts in case she suddenly decides to join the Hospital Olympics. Spoiler alert: she’s not going anywhere.
The thing is, I’ve got a craft fair coming up next weekend, and that means I need to be creating — not sitting in a hospital room pretending to enjoy watching nine hours of nonstop news coverage. Nine. Hours. I don’t even like watching nine minutes of the news. I can only listen to so many “breaking” stories about things that broke three days ago before I start questioning my life choices.
But there I sit, smiling, nodding, pretending I’m not slowly dying inside while she argues with the TV. I could be home making candles, painting signs, or doing literally anything that doesn’t involve election updates.
And when I say, “Hey, my schedule’s packed,” my siblings look at me like I just said I’m skipping Christmas. Listen, I love Mom. I’ll visit. I’ll call. I’ll even bring snacks. But she’s being well cared for — by actual trained professionals — while I’m over here trying to figure out if I can make fifty more gnomes before Friday.
So no, I’m not heartless. I’m just scheduled. And if loving my mom and respecting my calendar at the same time is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.
Fishing season for me is quickly coming to an end. What makes it even shorter this year is that my truck is heading into the shop for repairs on the first Monday of November — and it’ll be gone for two or three weeks. That means I’ll have no way of hauling my kayak to the river.
The temperature isn’t doing me any favors either. I have chronic anemia and stay cold all the time. When the temperature drops below seventy degrees, I freeze. So between my truck and the chilly weather, my fishing days are numbered.
Every Saturday morning, I try to attend a one-hour Bible study at a local Methodist church. I hadn’t been for the last three weeks because of craft fairs I participated in, so I was looking forward to seeing some of the friends I’ve made over the years. But I also try to kayak-fish at least once a week — and I was desperate to squeeze in one last trip before the truck goes into the shop.
Yesterday, while waiting at the doctor’s office to have some cancer removed from my left arm, I decided to check the weather forecast and compare it with my schedule. Sunday was out — church and a meeting that afternoon. Here’s how the rest of the week looked:
Monday: Rain in the morning, winds 5–10 mph, temps 60/51
Tuesday: Cloudy, winds 5–10 mph, temps 63/51
Wednesday: Rain 90%, winds 10–15 mph, temps 57/45
Thursday: Mostly cloudy, winds 10–15 mph, temps 57/43
Friday: Mostly sunny, winds 10–15 mph, temps 61/39
Saturday: Partly cloudy, winds 5–10 mph, temps 66/44
If you kayak fish, you know wind speed is everything — your worst enemy on the water. Between the wind and the cold, every day looked rough. Tuesday seemed the best bet, but I had a meeting with my financial advisor that afternoon, and I didn’t want to rush the trip.
So, I made the decision: skip Bible study and hit the creek. The forecast called for a high of 79 by 2 p.m., with a low that morning of 57. Still a little cool for me, but with sunshine, I figured it would warm up nicely.
I met my good friend Rick at 6 a.m. My truck’s temperature gauge read 57 degrees as we pulled out. The creek’s about thirty minutes from my house, and as we got closer, I watched the temperature drop — 54, 50, 47… By the time we reached the boat launch, it was 43 degrees.
Now, I’m wearing shorts, a long-sleeve dry-fit shirt, and a lightweight waterproof jacket. The second I opened the door and stepped outside, I knew I’d made a mistake. But wait — it gets worse.
I unloaded all my gear, parked the truck so Rick could back in, and helped him launch his kayak. Then it was my turn. I positioned mine with the back floating and the front still on land. I straddled the kayak, sat down, and pushed myself into the creek.
My left leg went in fine. On the right side, though, I’ve got a depth finder mounted — something I’ve maneuvered around dozens of times before. But this time, as I tried to swing my right leg in, I felt the kayak start to list heavily to the left.
And over I went.
Cold water, 43 degrees, right at daybreak. I’m sure the fish got a good laugh out of it — I know Rick did.
Rick figured I’d want to pack everything up and go home, but this was my only shot at fishing before the truck went to the shop. Besides, I wasn’t that cold yet. I managed to gather up all my floating gear, climbed back into the kayak (a little more carefully this time), and finally got launched without any more drama.
I fished for about thirty minutes before the shivering started. That’s when I noticed something else — my phone was missing. I knew exactly where it was: sitting at the bottom of the creek in about four feet of water.
As the shivering got worse, Rick talked me into heading back to the launch. I conceded and paddled back to land. Once there, I spotted my phone — right where I thought it was, under four feet of creek water. It had been down there for over thirty minutes.
At first, I figured, “Why bother? It’s not going to work anyway.” But I decided to try. I waded out into the cold water, reached down for the phone… and promptly lost my balance. Down I went — again! The splash muddied up the water so badly I couldn’t even see the phone anymore.
Thankfully, Rick came to the rescue with his paddle and managed to fish it out. I picked it up, dripping wet, and hit the power button. To my surprise, the screen lit right up. The phone still worked!
Kudos to the maker of the phone case — it kept my phone completely dry
So, no fish, two dunks, one lost (and found) phone — and a story I won’t forget anytime soon.
Sometimes, the best days on the water aren’t about the catch. They’re about the laughs, the lessons, and the memories that come when things don’t go exactly as planned.
The older I get, the more I realize that time doesn’t stand still. It seems like almost every week I hear about someone I used to go to school with or work with who has passed away. Just the thought of it can be depressing.
This past Saturday, I did a craft fair and happened to run into one of my high school classmates and her sister. We had a chance to catch up for a bit, and somehow the conversation turned to the classmates we’ve already lost. Sadly, cancer seems to have claimed most of them.
I’m 62 now — older than many of my classmates since I was held back a year — and although my health hasn’t always been the best, I count myself lucky to still be here.
Most of my classmates already have great-grandkids. Me? None of my three kids are married yet, so I’m not even a grandparent. Only one of the three is dating anyone right now, and I’m not sure when or if the other two will. That’s okay, though. I don’t ever want them to feel pressured. Still, before I go, I’d love to see all my kids married and maybe even get the chance to hold a grandbaby or two.
My parents, who are both in their mid to upper eighties, would love to see great-grandkids too. I have to remind my mom not to put pressure on my kids — she has a way of speaking her mind about things like that.
As I’ve mentioned before, I have a form of leukemia called CML. Right now, it’s under control. Sometimes one of the markers the doctors watch goes a little wild and sends everyone into a panic, but eventually, the numbers settle back down, and all is well again. I’ve come to accept that nothing I do can change the fact that I have CML. All I can do is take my daily pill, stay consistent, and be thankful that the medicine is working. Worrying won’t change the outcome.
Are you the worrying type? What’s the main thing that weighs on your mind — your kids, your health, your future, or something else? I get my worrying honestly; my grandmother on my mom’s side was a worrier, and my mom’s the same way. I guess it just runs in the family.
I know—it’s been a minute since I’ve posted anything. Honestly, I don’t even remember what I wrote about last time, so forgive me if I repeat myself a bit.
My weight loss journey has finally leveled out—or at least I think it has. My original goal was 190 pounds, but I’ve actually surpassed that by almost 20. I weighed in this morning at 174 pounds and have been hovering there for several weeks now. That’s over a hundred pounds lost in total, which is still hard for me to wrap my head around sometimes. I’m pretty happy with where I’m at.
I don’t regret having the surgery one bit—if anything, I just wish I’d been able to do it sooner. That said, there are a few side effects I could do without. I get these hunger pains unlike anything I’ve ever felt before—sharp, deep aches around my stomach area that only fade after I eat. And since they removed my inflamed gallbladder during surgery, well, let’s just say I have to stay close to a restroom after meals. What goes in tends to come out quickly, and sometimes with little to no warning. Sometimes it’s 30 minutes, sometimes hours later—but when the tummy starts to rumble, it’s a do-or-die situation. I’ll let your imagination fill in the rest.
On a more personal note, my old buddy Clyde is still hanging in there. He’ll be 21 in January if he makes it that long. About a month ago, we found out he has a tumor on his liver. We don’t know if it’s cancerous, but because of his age, surgery isn’t an option. All we can do now is keep him comfortable and make sure his final days are filled with love. The vet couldn’t give us a timeframe, so we’re just taking things day by day. It’s tough to think about, and we’re trying to prepare ourselves mentally—but that’s easier said than done.
I’m still getting out on the river for some kayak fishing about once a week. I love it, but those 4 a.m. wake-up calls are brutal. I usually try to be on the water by sunrise to make the most of the day, and I’m typically done around 2 p.m. That’s a long stretch to be sitting in a kayak, but it’s peaceful out there.
As the temperatures drop, though, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to keep it up. I’m chronically anemic and stay cold most of the time. Anything below 76 degrees is jacket weather for me. In fact, my thermostat is set at 76, and I still wear a jacket indoors most days. I have a trip planned for this Thursday, but the forecast says 43 degrees in the morning. I can bundle up, but once it warms up, I’ll have to stash my jacket somewhere—and space is limited in a kayak. The front compartment is out of reach when I’m seated, so it’s always a bit of a puzzle.
But hey, that’s life. I’ll enjoy it while I can—cold mornings, creaky joints, and all.
I’m also going to try to stay more active on here, share a bit more often, and hopefully regain some of my old followers—and maybe even find a few new ones along the way.
Feel free to ask me anything about my gastric bypass journey, my buddy Clyde, or my fishing trips. I’d love to share what I’ve learned and experienced. And if you’ve gone through weight loss surgery, have a special pet, or just want to chat about your own hobbies, I’d really enjoy hearing about them too.
I love to fish, and with being laid up for over a year, I can’t go fishing enough. I’ve been going at least once a week for the past two months. There have been a couple of weeks that I’ve been twice in one week.
I’ve started trying to film my trips so that I can share my little adventures, but I’ve been having some bad luck with my GoPro. It’s an old one, and I need to purchase another one. On my first trip, the battery died before I caught my first fish.
I hope you enjoy this little video of me catching one of the two fish that were caught on this trip.
My goal was 190 lbs from 260 on my surgery date. As of today, I weigh 171 pounds. Just a little more than I had anticipated. I’m now in size 32 from size 48. The downside is that I now look 20 years older. I do not regret having the surgery, it’s just a huge adjustment with the extreme weight loss. If you’re considering having a gastric bypass, I highly recommend it.
My current A1c is 5.2, down from 8.5. I’m no longer on insulin, heart meds, or blood pressure meds. My kidney function started going down, but for some reason has started going back up again. Not too concerned about that just yet.
I’ve started fishing again, which I thoroughly enjoy,y so be looking for posts about my adventures in my kayak.
On September 24th I weighed 206.6 lbs, down 54 lbs since April and down 75 lbs since January. Things are still progressing, slow, but still progressing. I’m averaging about 10 lbs a month. It’s been five months since I’ve had any sugary drinks or sweets. I do, however, drink what I call yellow-capped Milo’s tea. It’s sweetened with Splenda I think. The money I’ve saved just by not buying the soft drinks, Little Debby cakes has helped. Also, not having to take all the extra meds has reduced my pharmacy bill greatly.
Since my surgery, my breathing has improved 100 percent. I guess my lungs were being compressed by my stomach and since the repair, I can tell the difference. I’ve been trying to walk about an hour each day. This boot does make it more difficult though. I had to make an appointment with my orthopedic doctor the other day because my left foot’s ankle had swollen. I immediately contacted my doctor and made an appointment. I was so worried that I was about to go through the same thing with my left foot that I went through on my right. It was just an aggravated tendon, and he made some adjustments to my shoe insert.
I had lunch with some of the guys that I used to work with before I retired the other day. It was good to see them. When I was signed in one of my co-workers asked what I did with the rest of my body? None of them had seen me in over two years or before COVID-19 hit.
I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to vote for the picture of my cat Clyde. He made it to the semi-finals and didn’t make the cut. Clyde has been sort of puny as of late. He spent four days at the vet trying to get rid of a UTI. We hated to have to leave him because he does not do well being boarded. We did go and visit with him every day just so that he wouldn’t think that we had abandoned him. It was really tough seeing him on that last day because all he wanted to do was find an escape route. I’m glad to have him home again with us. I know he’s nearly 20 years old and I know he won’t be with us too much longer. Every day with him is a blessing. It will be hard when he does cross that rainbow bridge.
This is my 19.5-year-old cat, Clyde. I’ve entered his picture in a photo contest. I’m not sure if anyone reads my post or not but if you see this, please follow the link and vote for his picture. You can vote each day until the contest is over. We are currently in round five and I believe it goes to round eight. I could eventually win $10,000, but I doubt it will go that far.
Lost ten pounds this month. Everything is progressing nicely. The doctor wants me to lose thirty more pounds. If this keeps going the way they have, that should take another three months. I’m in no hurry. Just as long as I lose what I need to lose to get my BMI to a healthy range.
I go to my orthopedic Dr on Monday. I should know more when I get this boot off and in a regular shoe. Hope it will be in the next six weeks or so. The first thing I’m going to do is get my kayak out and go fishing.
Grayfeathersblog 