Tag Archives: mental-health

The 80/20 Decision

19 Wednesday Aug 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

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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

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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.

Progress Isn’t Always a Straight Line (Especially with My Back)

06 Thursday Aug 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Nature, Uncategorized

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Twice a week for the past five weeks, I’ve been going to physical therapy for my back. I’ll admit that when I first started, I didn’t think therapy would do much good for fused vertebrae and a bulging disc. I figured it was something I would just have to live with. Much to my surprise, though, therapy has been more beneficial than I ever expected.

That doesn’t mean there haven’t been a few setbacks.

This week alone, my back decided to remind me that it’s still in charge of this relationship. Apparently, I only get voting rights.

After church on Sunday, my kids and I went out to eat. The restaurant seated us in a booth with one of the strangest backrests I’ve ever encountered. Whoever designed it must have based it on someone who had never actually sat down before.

Within a few minutes, I knew it wasn’t going to work. My back was getting more uncomfortable by the second, so I finally excused myself and headed out to my truck to do some stretching.

Apparently, seeing a grown man bent, twisted, and stretched out in a restaurant parking lot gets people’s attention. Several patrons stopped to ask if I needed medical assistance. I appreciated their concern, but thankfully, all I needed was for my back to quit throwing its little temper tantrum.

The very next day, I went fishing with my friend Rick. Before we launched, I warned him that I probably wouldn’t make it through a full day on the water. My plan was to fish until about 11:30 a.m., giving us roughly five hours before heading home.

Well…my back had already looked at my schedule and crossed that out.

By 10:30, it was screaming, “We’re done!” Loud enough that I didn’t feel the need to argue. I paddled back to the launch, unloaded my gear, and before loading my kayak into the truck, I stretched out flat on my back across the tailgate for about ten minutes.

If anyone drove by, they probably thought I was either taking a nap or waiting for the coroner. Thankfully, neither was true.

That little break settled my back down enough for me to finish loading everything. Rick finally made it back around noon. He was fortunate I’d taken those few minutes to recover because otherwise he would have been loading all of his gear by himself. As much as I enjoy fishing with him, I was ready to get home and put some heat on my back.

When I told my physical therapist about both incidents yesterday, she decided to extend my therapy for another couple of weeks. Her goal is to add some exercises specifically designed to help reduce the pain I experience while fishing.

Normally, I probably would have complained about having to continue therapy longer than expected. But in this case, I’ll let it slide. After all, if a few more therapy sessions help me spend a few more hours fishing, that’s a trade I’m willing to make.

She also suggested replacing the seat in my kayak with one that offers better lumbar support. I’ve already started looking at a few options, and I’m planning to show her what I’ve found during tomorrow’s appointment. Who knew shopping for kayak seats would become part of my medical treatment?

If there’s one thing this experience has taught me, it’s that progress isn’t always a straight line. There are good days and bad days, victories and setbacks. But each week I’m seeing small improvements that remind me I’m moving in the right direction.

My back may still think it’s the boss, but physical therapy is slowly teaching it that it’s about to lose some of its authority.

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

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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.

When Your Body Says, “Enough”

28 Sunday Jun 2026

Posted by in Amateur Radio, Disability, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized

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It’s been a few days since my last entry. Between other family matters and life’s daily responsibilities, I’ve been too busy to sit down and write.

I did get the opportunity to go fishing for a couple of hours last Thursday, but I didn’t have much luck. I only caught two fish before my back started hurting, forcing me to cut my trip short.

Before heading out to fish, I had taken the time on Wednesday to load up my riding lawnmower so I could go to my dad’s house and cut his grass. If my back wasn’t hurting enough after Thursday’s fishing trip, it was screaming by the end of the day Friday. It took me nearly four hours to cut his lawn, and all that bouncing around on the mower certainly didn’t do me any favors.

Saturday started much better. After spending a couple of hours with our Saturday morning men’s group, I headed to Pell City, about 50 minutes from home, for Field Day. Field Day is an annual HAM radio event where Amateur Radio operators practice and sharpen their emergency communication skills. Thankfully, I was able to sit for most of the day, which gave my back a much-needed break.

Then came Sunday.

The pain returned during the church service, and it became so intense that I thought I was going to have to leave and wait it out in my truck. Fortunately, I found some pain medication in my backpack, and after a little while, it started to take the edge off.

In two weeks, I begin physical therapy in hopes that stretching and strengthening my back will provide some relief. I can’t have another RFA procedure for another six months, so I’m hoping therapy will help bridge the gap. Something has to give because I’m growing tired of letting my back decide what I can and can’t do.

The Spoonful of Sand Effect

15 Monday Jun 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Life, Retirement, Uncategorized, Woodworking

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Imagine, if you will, a large container filled with sand. (Insert the Twilight Zone Music) You come along with a spoon and remove a single spoonful. You and I both know that you’ve removed that spoonful, but to everyone else, the container looks exactly the same.

That’s the same scenario I’m facing in my garage.

I spent all day today throwing things in the trash, moving items around in the shed so I could move other things into it, and generally trying to bring some order to the chaos. Somewhere along the way, I stepped on a few Sweetgum balls (For those that live in the South, you know what I’m talking about), rolled my ankle, and landed face-first on the ground. If there had been judges present, I doubt they would have scored the dismount very highly.

I knew when I started this project that it wasn’t going to be a one-day event. It’s going to take several days, if not weeks, to get this garage looking the way it should. Years of “I’ll put that there for now” have finally caught up with me.

I took the time to cut usable pieces from my scrap wood pile so I could minimize waste. I also found several containers filled with wood screws of various sizes. I sorted them into separate containers and even labeled them. That’s a small victory, but at least now I won’t have to dig through a coffee can full of random screws every time I need one or, God forbid, go purchase more.

This morning, I took some before pictures of the garage. In fact, I had even posted a few of them on yesterday’s blog. Later, I took them down because I was honestly a little ashamed that I had let the garage get into the condition it’s in. Maybe once everything is cleaned up and organized, I’ll share the before-and-after photos. If nothing else, they’ll serve as proof that all this effort actually accomplished something.

A lot of time and effort went into today’s work, with very little visible evidence to show for it. If someone walked into the garage tonight, they probably wouldn’t notice much difference, kind of like that missing spoonful of sand.

But progress was made. It may not be obvious to anyone else, but I know it’s there. The garage is a little better organized than it was this morning, and that’s enough for today.

Besides, the sore ankle and busted kneecap are all the proof I need that I was working.

A Busy Mother’s Day Weekend

10 Sunday May 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized, Woodworking

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Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there!!

After completing the CERT program last Tuesday, we had our first drill at the local fire station. We spent the day going over everything we had learned during the past nine weeks. Overall, I think everyone did pretty well. However, one of our team members managed to get “electrocuted” during the simulation and had to be carried out along with the other cardboard victims.

Before anyone panics, it was all simulated. Nobody actually got electrocuted.

He was properly embarrassed, though, which is probably the best kind of lesson because I doubt he’ll make that same mistake again anytime soon. I’m not sure when our next drill will be, but hopefully it won’t be too far off. We learned a lot over those nine weeks, and at my age, if you don’t use it, you start forgetting where you put it.

I made it home with just enough daylight left to finish my mom’s Mother’s Day gift. Thankfully, most of the hard work had already been done. All I had left was to nail everything together and add the flowers. By the time I finished, though, I was more than ready to introduce myself to the recliner and heating pad for the rest of the evening.

The pain block seems to have helped a little. I think I may have overdone things yesterday and irritated my back again because I can definitely tell the difference between yesterday and today. Apparently, my back still believes I’m twenty years old right up until it sends me the bill the next morning.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll be heading in to have another spot of skin cancer removed. This one is on my right side. The last time was on my left arm, so apparently, my skin believes in equal opportunity. I’m hoping they can get it all in one visit, so I won’t have to keep going back week after week to have more cut off.

Other than that, tomorrow is my only appointment, aside from Bible study on Tuesday morning. Depending on how well my back feels, how the procedure goes, and whether the weather cooperates, I may try to sneak away and go fishing one day next week.

At this point, sitting in a boat holding a fishing pole sounds a whole lot better than sitting in another doctor’s office waiting room.

Needles, Nerves, and Alabama Weather

08 Friday May 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Photography, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weather, Woodworking

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I had a pain block in my back late this afternoon. I’ve had several pain blocks for my sciatic nerve over the years, and thankfully, they’ve worked pretty well. The doctor says it can take a day or two before you really notice the full effect, but I can already tell there’s a little improvement. At this point, I’ll take “little improvement” over “walking like a ninety-year-old penguin” any day.

I’m scheduled to go back in two weeks for another block, but apparently, Medicare has decided that anesthesia is now considered some sort of luxury item instead of a necessity. Evidently, according to someone sitting comfortably behind a desk somewhere, getting needles stuck in your spine should be considered “part of the experience.”

I’ve had sciatic nerve blocks without anesthesia before, and let me tell you, “uncomfortable” is not a strong enough word. I survived it, but I also briefly considered updating my will during the procedure. Now they want to do the back without anesthesia, too. I may discover just how brave I really am because paying $225 every visit might send me into cardiac arrest before the back pain does.

After the next pain block, the doctor wants me to have something called RFA — Radio Frequency Ablation. From what I understand, it basically involves burning the nerve endings so they stop sending pain signals. Nothing says modern medicine quite like, “Good news! We’re just going to burn part of your nerves.” I’m sure it’s perfectly safe, but the wording alone sounds like something dreamed up in a medieval torture chamber.

Apparently, though, it works well for a lot of people, so I’m trying to stay optimistic.

Of course, the moment Rick — my fishing buddy — heard I was feeling a little better, he immediately sent me a text asking if we were going fishing in the morning. That man can sense improved mobility from three counties away.

I told him no. I’m taking a day of rest and trying to finish up a couple of projects, including my mom’s Mother’s Day gift. Besides, every fish in Alabama deserves at least one day each week when they don’t have to worry about seeing my kayak floating toward them.

My Kindle still hasn’t shown up either. I’m holding off ordering another one until after Sunday, just in case some honest person found it and turns it in. I still can’t figure out how it vanished between church and home last Sunday. I’m beginning to think it either sprouted legs or was taken by the same mysterious force that steals socks out of dryers.

Thankfully, the severe storms they were predicting never really materialized around here. I’m grateful for that because storms make me extremely anxious — especially tornadic weather. I’ve never liked it, and honestly, I probably never will.

What amazes me is how some meteorologists start the “doom and gloom” forecasts ten days in advance, like they’re auditioning for an apocalypse movie. Every social media platform suddenly turns into nonstop radar screenshots, dramatic music, and phrases like “potentially catastrophic event.”

Meanwhile, the weather changes fifteen times before the storm even gets here.

Now, the meteorologist I normally watch is different. He’s a straight shooter. He doesn’t try to scare everybody half to death just to rack up clicks and views online. Some of these other weather folks act like they’ve been sitting backstage all year waiting for severe weather season so they can finally get more airtime than the sports department.

Normally, the sports guys get all the glory with football, basketball, baseball, and everything else. The weather guy usually gets about ten minutes to point at a cold front and tell us there’s a thirty percent chance of rain. But let a tornado watch pop up somewhere, and suddenly they’re on television for six straight hours living their best life.

Unfortunately, all those dramatic weather posts somehow flood my social media feeds whether I want to see them or not. And once I start seeing tornado predictions, my anxiety kicks into overdrive, and I’m ready to crawl into a hole somewhere until it all passes.

Maybe that hole needs Wi-Fi, though… especially if my Kindle never comes home.

Running on Faith, Coffee, and a Heating Pad

05 Tuesday May 2026

Posted by in Arts and Crafts, Family, Kayaking, Uncategorized, Weather, Woodworking

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Today started at 4:00 a.m.

Not because I wanted it to… but because apparently my life has decided that sleep is optional now.

I got up, got moving, and made my way across town for my 6:00 a.m. Bible study. There’s something about starting your day that early that makes you feel accomplished… and slightly confused about what day it actually is.

After that, I met up with my fishing buddy Rick for breakfast. Not long into it, my brother-in-law showed up—another fisherman, and to make things worse (or better, depending on how you look at it), he lives on the river.

So naturally, what was supposed to be a quick breakfast turned into a full-blown fishing summit.

We sat there long after the plates were cleared, swapping stories about recent trips and, of course, honoring the sacred tradition of talking about “the one that got away.” I’m convinced those fish get bigger every time we tell the story.

They started talking about the next fishing trip, and I had to sit that part out—for now. I’ve got a pain block scheduled this Thursday, and I’m hoping it gives me enough relief to get back out on the kayak soon. Because right now, the only thing I’m catching is back pain.

The afternoon was spent in the shop creating a respectable amount of sawdust, which is my way of saying I worked hard but also made a mess I’ll deal with later.

Then it was off to my CERT class this evening—our final one. For the past nine weeks, we’ve been learning how to respond in emergencies, and this Saturday is the big test and drill. Not just a written test either… we actually have to prove we’ve been paying attention.

No pressure.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, I’ve been working on a Mother’s Day gift for my mom. I had a bigger idea planned, but after looking at it… and looking at it again… and then criticizing it like only I can, I decided to pivot.

My wife says it looked fine.

I say it looked like a future “learning experience.”

So I scaled it down to something simpler, and honestly, it’s going a lot better. I’ve got most of it done—just some sanding and paint left. If all goes well, I should have it finished tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow… the weather has decided to add a little excitement back into the schedule. There’s a risk of severe storms, including tornadoes.

That’s something that always hits a little differently.

Back in 2011, our town was devastated by a tornado. Our home was spared, but many weren’t. Lives were lost, and that’s something you don’t forget. So yeah, when the meteorologists start using words like “rotation” and “severe,” my anxiety tends to show up right on time.

If everything goes according to plan, I’m hoping for a little reward at the end of this week. If the pain block works, I may try to get back out on the water on Friday. After the CERT drill on Saturday, I’ll handle any last-minute touch-ups on Mom’s gift—if needed.

It’s been a long day. The kind that starts early, ends late, and somehow still feels like there’s more to do.

But it’s also been a full day.

And I’ll take that—even if it comes with a 4:00 a.m. alarm clock and a recliner waiting on standby.

When Plans Change, and Priorities Don’t

02 Saturday May 2026

Posted by in Family, Life, Uncategorized

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There comes a time in your life when you realize things don’t always go according to plan. Life has a way of stepping in, throwing a wrench into your day, and reminding you that some things matter more than whatever you had written on your to-do list.

I’m not sure if I’m making myself clear, but let me try to explain.

Growing up, my parents were the kind of people who would drop everything to help their kids. It didn’t matter what they had going on, how they felt, or what time it was—if we needed them, they were there.

My dad worked evening and late shifts most of my childhood, so I didn’t see him much during the week. He spent most of his days sleeping so he could work through the night. But even then, if I needed him, he showed up. The same goes for my mom. Between the two of them, there was never a moment when I felt like I had to figure things out alone.

Well… now it’s my turn.

Today wasn’t exactly a great day for me physically. When I woke up at 5:30 this morning, my back pain was already making its presence known. I rolled over and went back to sleep, hoping for some relief. By 9:30, I had no choice but to get up—and it hurt. A lot.

I had taken a pain pill the night before, which is probably the only reason I slept that long. After getting dressed and making some coffee, I sat down to start my morning devotion. That’s when my dad called.

His brand-new HVAC unit wasn’t working. The thermostat was completely blank. No heat, no air—nothing.

On a pain scale, I was sitting at a solid 8. I seriously considered taking another pain pill after breakfast, but I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be in any condition to drive. And at that moment, my dad needed help.

So I skipped the pill.

I scarfed down a bowl of cereal, grabbed what tools I thought I’d need, and headed out the door. I called my wife as I pulled onto the main road to let her know what was going on.

When I got there, the first thing I checked was the thermostat… and of course, it was working perfectly. Lit up, responsive, doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I switched it to cool—worked fine. Switched it to heat—no problem.

You can’t fix what isn’t broken… at least not right away.

After some troubleshooting, I narrowed it down to a possible issue with the condensate pump—one of the few things that could interrupt power to the low-voltage system.

Sure enough, the pump was full of buildup from years of use. I disconnected it and took it to the sink to clean it out.

That’s when things got interesting.

As I was reconnecting the wiring, one of the low-voltage wires brushed against the unit… and sparks flew.

If there wasn’t a problem before, there definitely was now.

I had officially upgraded the situation from “simple service call” to “well… that escalated quickly.”

Now the real fun began—finding that fuse.

There was a resettable fuse on the transformer, but it hadn’t tripped. Which meant one thing: somewhere inside that unit was a tiny little 3-amp fuse… hiding… laughing… probably calling its fuse friends to come watch.

And let me tell you, whoever designed that unit clearly never had to actually work on it.

This thing was tucked behind the control board in a spot that required either:

  1. Much smaller hands
  2. A double-jointed wrist
  3. Or a strong prayer life

I tried reaching it from one angle—nope. Another angle—still nope. At one point, I’m pretty sure I invented two brand-new yoga poses that will never make it into a class.

After what felt like an episode of “HVAC: Mission Impossible”, I finally laid eyes on it.

Victory… briefly.

Because of course… I didn’t have a spare.

Naturally.

So off I went to the auto parts store, where I got to buy an entire assortment pack of fuses—ranging from “barely useful” to “I may never need this in my lifetime”—just to get that one tiny 3-amp fuse.

But hey, if anyone within a 5-mile radius blows a fuse anytime soon, I’m officially their guy.

Before putting the new fuse in, I double-checked everything to make sure I hadn’t accidentally created a bigger problem (because at this point, that felt like a real possibility).

Once I was confident, I slid the fuse into place…

And just like that—it worked.

Like nothing had ever happened.

By this point, my back was absolutely screaming. There was no time for small talk or hanging around. I packed up my tools, said my goodbyes, and made my way back home—straight to my recliner.

I did what needed to be done.

I pushed through the pain because that’s exactly what my parents would have done for me.

Funny how life comes full circle like that.

Tomorrow’s Bible study has been canceled since everyone’s out of town, so I’ll be taking that as a sign to rest.

And hopefully… just hopefully… the phone stays quiet.