Tag Archives: mental-health

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.

It’s Not the End of the Road

27 Monday Apr 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Depression, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Uncategorized

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Just a quick post.

I have Chronic Myeloid Leukemia (CML). I was diagnosed back in 2014. I’m not going to lie—when I first heard those words, I thought my world had come to an end.

I was devastated.
I got depressed.
I was angry at everything and everyone.

I couldn’t even carry on a simple conversation without it turning into something it didn’t need to be. In short, I wasn’t exactly easy to live with.

The truth is, everything I felt is something a lot of people experience when they hear the word “cancer.” That flood of emotions hits hard. But what I’ve learned since then is this—there is always hope, no matter the diagnosis.

I follow several CML groups online, and I try to help people who are just starting this journey and struggling to process it all.

Last night, I came across a post from a young woman who had just been diagnosed with CML. She was going through the same emotions I went through—fear, anger, and the overwhelming feeling that her life was over. She had just gotten married and was planning to start a family, but now she was ready to give up on that dream. Her husband, loving her the way he does, was willing to give that up, too.

That hit me.

So I reached out to her privately.

I told her what I wish someone had made crystal clear to me in the beginning: things have changed. Years ago, this diagnosis looked very different. Today, it’s not the same story.

There are medications now that can control this disease. It may not be something that just disappears, but it’s something many people live with—and live well with.

I also told her I understood exactly what she was feeling, because I had been there—the anger, the depression, the uncertainty. And I let her know she didn’t have to go through it alone.

And I told her about this blog—about my life after diagnosis, the ups and downs, the fishing trips, the everyday moments. I wanted her to see that there is still a life to live after hearing those words.

Honestly, I didn’t expect a response.

But she wrote back.

And after several messages, I could tell something had shifted. Knowing that someone else had been walking this road since 2014—and is still here—gave her a different perspective. It even made her reconsider the idea that her future, including having a family, might not be over after all.

That right there is why I share my story.

CML is not a death sentence. It’s a bump in the road. A big one sometimes—but not a roadblock.

My numbers still go up and down like a rollercoaster. Some months are good, some aren’t. But it’s been that way long enough that it doesn’t shake me like it used to.

Life goes on.

And that’s exactly what I told her—live your life. Keep your appointments. Take your medication. Listen to your doctor.

But don’t stop living.

Because this diagnosis doesn’t mean the end of your story.

Heating Pad Chronicles

26 Sunday Apr 2026

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

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I’m officially down.

This morning at church, it was all I could do just to sit there and make it through the service. I’m pretty sure I shifted positions more than a kid in a hard wooden pew for the first time. But I made it.

After church, I managed to go to lunch with my girls, which was worth pushing through the discomfort. My son was out of town, so I didn’t get to see him today, which was a little disappointing—but I’ll catch him next time.

After that, it was straight home.

Pain pill. Recliner. Heating pad on high.

(Shocking, I know.)

I did finally hear back from my doctor yesterday, and she gave me the rundown on my back. Turns out, there’s some pretty serious stuff going on in there. Not exactly the kind of “surprise” you’re hoping for. She’s referred me to an orthopedic doctor to talk about pain management injections and figure out what the next steps look like.

Here’s the ironic part—it’s in the same office as my Charcot doctor. At this point, I’m thinking about just asking if they offer a rewards program. Maybe after a certain number of visits, you get a free coffee or something.

Of course, scheduling the appointment isn’t as simple as picking up the phone like a normal human being. Nope. Everything has to be done online now. I had to fill out all my information just so they can call me… to set up an appointment.

So basically, I did all the work… just to wait.

Sometimes technology doesn’t make things easier—it just makes them take longer in a more complicated way. I’d much rather just call, talk to a real person, and get it handled in five minutes instead of playing this back-and-forth waiting game.

As for tomorrow, those plans are officially cancelled. I was supposed to head to the shop and do some woodworking to get ready for my next show, but there’s no way that’s happening. Right now, the only thing I’m building is a deeper relationship with this recliner.

I’m hoping I can at least make it through Tuesday.

I’ve got Bible study in the morning, an appointment with my oncologist in the afternoon, and my last CERT class that night—which includes a written test. Then Saturday is the big drill where we’re supposed to be tested on everything we’ve learned over the past eight weeks… including the physical stuff.

So yeah… no pressure.

At this point, I’m just hoping to feel human again by then.

Until I can get back on my feet, I’ll probably spend some time looking up new woodworking plans. If I can’t build anything right now, I might as well plan what I’m going to build when I can.

Other than Tuesday, it looks like me and this recliner are going to be spending a lot of quality time together until I hear from the orthopedic doctor.

Not exactly how I planned my week…

But for now, this is where I’m at.

Hidden in Plain Sight

19 Sunday Apr 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Uncategorized

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The mind can play some terrible tricks on you.

Sometimes it convinces you that you saw something that wasn’t there. Other times, you can look straight at something—multiple times—and somehow never actually see it. I can’t explain it, but I’ve experienced it enough to know it’s real.

The other day, I wrote about my wife and I panic cleaning the house. In the process, I moved several things to what I thought were “safe places.” You know the kind—those spots that make perfect sense at the time but completely betray you later.

One of those items was a set of red flags I bought for the back of my kayak. They’re there to warn drivers that I’ve got a load sticking way out past the truck bed. Bright red. Hard to miss… or so you’d think.

Well, those flags disappeared.

I tore this house apart looking for them. I knew exactly where I put them. I knew the room. I knew the box. I checked that box more times than I can count. Opened it, moved things around, looked carefully… and every single time, nothing.

Gone.

Now, I’ve been down this road before. When I can’t find something after a while, I usually just give up and buy another one. That’s the reason I own more tape measures than any one man should. Same goes for hammers. I’m pretty sure I’ve got at least 15 scattered throughout this house.

At any given moment, I can find four of each.
At other times… not a single one.

It never fails.

So while packing for my fishing trip, I gave up on the flags and moved on. I grabbed my Nikon camera, put a fresh battery in it, set the time and date, and placed it in a Ziploc bag along with a notepad and pen so I could keep everything together.

Or so I thought.

Because when I got to the river… the bag and the camera were nowhere to be found.

Now I’m standing there wondering how something can vanish between my house and my truck. Later on, I start searching again—this time for the camera.

And guess what I found?

The flags.

Right there.
In the same box.
In the same room.
In the exact spot I knew I had already searched.

I didn’t just glance in that box—I looked in it. More than once. And somehow, I never saw them.

But the moment I stopped looking for them… there they were.

At this point, I’ve just accepted it. There’s no explaining it. The mind sees what it wants to see—and sometimes, it refuses to see what’s right in front of it.

So tomorrow, I’ve got a plan.

I’m going to look for something else entirely. Maybe a missing tape measure or one of those fifteen hammers. And if history repeats itself, I’ll stumble across that camera and Ziploc bag like it’s been sitting there the whole time… just waiting for me to notice it.

Because apparently, that’s how this works now.

The 4AM Gamble: What Did I Forget This Time?

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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

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The long-awaited day finally arrives tomorrow.

At 4:00 a.m., my alarm will go off, signaling the start of a long—but hopefully rewarding—day. I’ll roll out of bed, grab some breakfast, and head out to meet my fishing buddy at his place by 5:30.

But before I ever get to the water, today was about preparation.

After spending hours out in the heat working on crafts, I came home and shifted gears—loading up the kayak, rods, and every piece of electronics I’ll need. I made sure batteries were fresh, gear was in place, and all safety equipment was accounted for. Or at least… most of it.

Ever since the great Easter weekend cleanup (or “panic clean,” if we’re being honest), there are still a few things that seem to have vanished into thin air. I had a feeling that once I started moving everything around, I’d forget where I put something important.

I was right.

A few weeks ago, I bought some proper red safety flags for the back of my kayak—bright, reflective, and actually visible. In Alabama, anything over 12 feet is supposed to have a red flag attached, and my old solution—a once-red rag—is now so faded it looks more like a tired brown surrender flag than anything useful.

And of course… I can’t find the new ones.

I know how this story ends. I’ll stumble across them one day while I’m tearing the house apart looking for something else I can’t find. That’s just how it works.

But missing flags or not, I’m determined to make the most of tomorrow. A good day on the water doesn’t come from perfect preparation—it comes from being there.

Somewhere in between all of that, I’ve also got a craft fair coming up Saturday. Today, despite the heat, I managed to put together a couple of new trial pieces—a rustic serving tray and a small hanging planter. I didn’t go all in on them just yet. No sense in making a dozen of something if nobody wants one.

But if they sell? I’ll be making more.

There’s something satisfying about working with your hands—whether it’s shaping wood into something useful or casting a line and waiting on that tug. Different kind of work, same kind of reward.

Tomorrow, I’m hoping for both.

Test Results Pending… Floors Not So Much

09 Thursday Apr 2026

Posted by in Boy Scouts, Family, Life, Retirement

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I’ve got a couple of updates since the last round of chaos, and like everything else lately, it’s a mix of “well, that’s good news” and “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

First off, I saw a post from my doctor’s office saying they plan to reopen on Monday. Now, I’ll be honest—I don’t know how they’re going to be mentally ready for that. After everything that’s happened, I can’t imagine just flipping the sign back to “Open” and jumping right back into caring for patients like nothing ever happened.

I do have some test results I need to get, but at this point, I’m not too worried about them. I could call, but something tells me they’re going to be completely overwhelmed. Phones are ringing off the hook, patients are trying to reschedule, and emotions are still running high. I think I’ll give them a few days. If they call me, great. If not, I’ll check in later when things settle down—at least a little.

They also mentioned they’re looking for another doctor to take over the practice. That could take some time, and honestly, who knows how that’s all going to play out. But I’ve got a backup plan. There’s another doctor I’ve seen before, someone I actually know pretty well outside of the office. We crossed paths a lot through Scouts—he was a scoutmaster in another district—and we’ve stayed in touch over the years. We’re even friends on Facebook, so he’s already got a front-row seat to my “medical adventures” without ever opening a chart. If things go south with my current doctor’s office, I know where my records will be heading.

Meanwhile, over at my son’s house, the saga continues.

The water mitigation team came back today to check on the fans and dehumidifiers. They went around testing the walls and floors for moisture. The good news? The walls are drying out just like they should.

The bad news? The floor… not so much.

So tomorrow, they’re coming back to start tearing up the flooring so the slab can dry out properly. Nothing says “progress” quite like ripping out perfectly good flooring. They’re also planning to remove a few of the fans from the bathroom, which should at least lower the noise level from “airport runway” down to “only mildly annoying.”

It’s been quite the adventure so far—and we’re not even close to the end.

Once everything is dry enough, they’ll move on to the restoration phase. That’s the part my son is really looking forward to… mainly because it means we’re finally heading in the direction of “normal.” He’s also hoping that by tomorrow evening—or at least by Saturday—most of the fans will be gone. I think we’re all looking forward to that.

Of course, my wife has asked me more than once if there was anything that could have been done to prevent all of this.

Short answer? No.

Long answer? Still no… unless you want to hop in a time machine and have a conversation with the original plumbers. It could’ve been a weak solder joint, a slight shift in the slab, or something else entirely hidden beneath the surface. Without tearing everything apart beforehand—or having some kind of superpower X-ray vision—there’s just no way to know. Sometimes things just fail, and you deal with them when they do.

And speaking of dealing with it, tomorrow my son has somewhere he needs to be, so he won’t be around to let the mitigation team in.

Which means… You guessed it… I’ll be making the 45-minute drive.

And you know what? I don’t mind one bit.

Because at the end of the day, this whole mess—doctor’s offices, test results, torn-up floors, and all—is just part of life. Messy, unpredictable, sometimes frustrating… but it also gives us chances to show up for each other.

Even if it means driving 45 minutes just to let someone in the door.

And honestly… compared to everything else going on, that’s the easy part.

From Toughing It Out to Tapping Out by 10:30 AM

28 Saturday Mar 2026

Posted by in Life, Twins, Uncategorized, Woodworking

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I’ve always considered myself pretty good at dealing with pain. Not superhero-level or anything, but enough to where I can usually just shrug it off and keep going.

My wife, on the other hand… well, let’s just say pain and her are not exactly best friends.

Now, before I get myself in trouble, I should point out that she did go through childbirth twice—once with twins—so when the moment calls for it, she can absolutely tough it out. She just prefers not to make a hobby out of it like I apparently do.

As for me, I’ve been dealing with this back pain for as long as I can remember. Never really complained much about it. I just chalked it up to muscle fatigue, getting older, or doing something dumb and pretending I didn’t.

Turns out… muscle fatigue was not the issue.

According to the latest X-rays, this has been something a little more “interesting” all along. And lately, just to keep things exciting, the pain decided to crank itself up over the past month.

Naturally, my pain tolerance—once my greatest ally—has started waving the white flag. So today, I finally broke down and reached for the pain meds.

At the doctor’s office the other day, they gave me a steroid shot, and I have to admit—it worked. Yesterday morning, I got out of bed without feeling like someone was stabbing me in the back. It was a beautiful, almost spiritual experience.

This morning? Not so much.

That shot wore off like a good dream, and reality came back with a vengeance.

On top of that, I was prescribed Methocarbamol—a muscle relaxer. The doctor told me, “Take it at bedtime… and during the day if you need it. Just be aware it might make you drowsy.”

Might.

Last night, I took one and thought, “This isn’t so bad.” I stayed awake for a while and figured I was in the clear.

This morning, after wrestling my way out of bed, I decided to take another before heading to Bible study.

Thirty minutes later… I was unconscious in the recliner.

Not “a little sleepy.” Not “slightly drowsy.” I mean full-on, lights out, someone-check-my-pulse kind of asleep.

My wife had to come wake me up so I could even attempt to get ready. I made it to Bible study, but staying awake was more of a suggestion than a reality.

By the time I got back home, I sat down in the recliner—and that’s about all I remember.

My day officially ended at 10:30 in the morning.

All the plans I had for the day? Gone. Completely wiped out. The only thing I accomplished was catching up on all the sleep I’ve been missing from staying up late and getting up early preparing for these craft shows.

So I guess… not a total loss?

Tomorrow is church, and after that, I’ve got a big date planned with my recliner and heating pad. We’ve grown very close lately.

With a little rest (and maybe slightly less “effective” medication), I’m hoping by Monday I can get back to working on the projects that didn’t stand a chance today.

Until then, I’ll be right here—taking it easy and trying not to accidentally time-travel to the next day every time I take my medicine.

Another Dr. Visit, An Unscheduled Upgrade

26 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by in Disability, Life, Uncategorized

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If you have been following my blog for any length of time, you should know that I have a love/hate relationship with doctors. I need them so I can live a healthier life… but I hate going because every single visit turns into a surprise episode of “What’s Wrong With Me Now?”

Today did not disappoint.

For as long as I can remember—basically my entire adult life—I’ve had this dull pain in my lower back (the lumbar region… look at me sounding all professional). Years ago, they told me it was just muscle fatigue. Nothing major. Just your standard, everyday “getting old is fun” kind of pain. It would hurt to get out of bed, stand for too long, or even get up after sitting for a bit.

You know… normal stuff.

Well, about three weeks ago, my “normal” pain decided it needed a promotion. What used to be a dull ache turned into something that made getting out of bed feel like I was trying to escape a bear trap. I gave it a few days, thinking it would go away like it always does.

It did not.

Naturally, I did what everyone does—I went straight to worst-case scenario. “Welp… kidneys are shutting down. This is how it ends.” So I went to a nephrologist. He basically said, “Sir… your kidneys are stable at the moment. The only pain you’ll feel is if you have been having kidney stones. I’ve had kidney stones, and this is nowhere near that pain.

Good to know.

So today I went to my GP for X-rays. While I’m sitting there, I overhear the nurse and the X-ray tech talking about my films. They had that tone—you know the one. The “Oh… that’s interesting” tone. And I just started laughing, because I knew exactly what that meant.

Congratulations… they found something.

Actually, they found a few somethings.

First off, scoliosis has apparently been sneaking around in my spine like it pays rent there. Then I’ve got two vertebrae that decided they liked each other so much they just fused together. No permission, no warning—just “we’re gonna be roommates forever now.”

And then there’s another vertebra that apparently quit its job and slid forward. I guess it got tired of being in line and said, “I’m gonna go see what’s going on up here… maybe bother a nerve or two while I’m at it.”

The vertebra that has decided to leave the party and move forward.

Overachiever.

And just when I thought we were done, they hit me with, “Let’s schedule an MRI.” Because clearly, we haven’t discovered everything yet. There could still be bonus features hiding in there.

So for now, it looks like a heating pad in the recliner and the heated seat in my truck are my new best friends. Honestly, at this point, I’m one step away from just installing a built-in warming system and calling it a day.

So yeah… just another routine trip to the doctor where I walked in thinking “probably nothing” and walked out with a list of upgrades I never asked for.

At this rate, if they scan me long enough, they’re going to find a spare bolt, a missing instruction manual, and maybe a “some assembly required” sticker.

Stay tuned… I’m pretty sure the next visit unlocks the deluxe edition 😅

My Hobbies Are Cheaper Than Therapy (Mostly)

05 Thursday Mar 2026

Posted by in Amateur Radio, Cancer, Depression, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Nature, Uncategorized, Woodworking

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Let’s talk about hobbies.

Hobbies can serve many purposes. AI summarizes them as follows:

  • Provide relaxation and stress relief from daily pressures
  • Foster creativity and self-expression through various activities
  • Enhance skills and knowledge in specific areas of interest
  • Promote social connections and friendships with like-minded individuals
  • Improve mental health and overall well-being through enjoyable pursuits
  • Offer a sense of accomplishment and personal fulfillment

I’ll have to agree with most of these, but a couple stand out more than others for me. The ones that stand out the most are relaxation, creativity, self-expression, and mental health. Most importantly, mental health.

I’ll be the first to admit, and my wife would be the first to agree, that I have way too many hobbies. A short list would include fishing (of course), reading, woodworking, Amateur Radio, camping, and cooking. If I’m being completely honest, the list is probably a little longer than that, but I’ll stop there before my wife reads this and starts counting.

I’m not someone who enjoys just sitting around the house. I have to be doing something. I love the outdoors and enjoy most anything that takes me outside, whether it’s camping or traveling somewhere just for the day. Sitting still for too long makes me feel like something must be broken… or worse, that someone is about to hand me a chore.

I’ve always been good with my hands, and I enjoy making things out of wood or repairing things that need fixing. When I was a kid, I used to get into trouble because I was always taking things apart just to see how they worked. The only problem was that I wasn’t always successful at putting them back together. Apparently, parents don’t appreciate curiosity when it involves their appliances.

On rainy days, I like to curl up with a good book that allows my mind to travel to places I may never be able to visit. Reading also helps take my mind off the stresses of the day.

I know without a shadow of a doubt that people are reading this who have far greater health concerns than I do. But regardless of your health, you may have had a bad day at work, an argument with your spouse, or just received a bill you know you can’t pay. Each of us faces stress in our lives that can be difficult to deal with.

Because of that, each of us needs to find some sort of escape—a place where we can go, even if it’s only for a short time, to gather our thoughts. Sometimes, that time allows us to find a way to deal with the situation at hand. Other times, it helps us realize we need to talk with someone who can help us sort things out.

As an outsider, I can’t tell you what to do. I can only offer suggestions about what works for me.

When I find myself in a situation where I know I’m going to be stressed, I grab my Kindle and start reading. Before I knew it, my mind had drifted away from whatever was bothering me. For example, the wreck I had the other day has been stressing me out more than it probably should. There’s nothing I can do right now but wait for the police report to be submitted. Unfortunately, patience has never been one of my stronger qualities.

But when I picked up my Kindle and started reading, before long my mind was somewhere else entirely—and not thinking about insurance adjusters, body shops, or police reports.

I also have the unfortunate routine of visiting the doctor for lab work or appointments at least three times a month—sometimes more. This week alone, I had three appointments, and the month has just started. At this point, I’m starting to feel like the waiting room staff should just give me my own assigned chair.

Thankfully, I enjoy reading. Last year, I read 45 books, and quite a few of them were finished while waiting for a doctor to call my name. I also read quite a bit before going to bed. It helps me relax and takes away some of the stress from the day.

Another hobby I’ve written about before is fishing. Of course, I enjoy catching fish when I go, but honestly, that’s only part of it. What I enjoy most is the solitude. Being out there gives me time to think without distractions.

Sometimes I’ll paddle out to the middle of the river, set the paddle down, and just listen to the birds and the other sounds of nature. Every once in a while, a fish even cooperates and jumps on the hook just to make the trip look productive.

To me, that’s more relaxing than just about anything else I’ve found.

Most of the time, I come home from a fishing trip in a better mood—whether I catch anything or not. Of course, catching something does make the ride home a little sweeter. It also helps justify all the fishing gear I’ve somehow managed to accumulate over the years.

I guess what this post really boils down to is this:

Find your happy place.

Find a place where you can go—either physically or mentally—to relax and get away from it all. Only you will know where that place is.

Stress has a way of dragging us down, sometimes to a place where it becomes very difficult to climb back out. I’ve been there, and I know what it feels like.

Luckily, I was able to find my place and climb my way back before the stress got to a point where I couldn’t.

And that’s why hobbies matter more than most people realize.

A Car Accident, Too Many Phone Calls, and a Future Son-in-Law

04 Wednesday Mar 2026

Posted by in bariatric-surgery, Boy Scouts, diet, Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Retirement, Twins, Uncategorized, Weight Loss, Woodworking

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Tomorrow is Thursday, and this week has gone from bad to worse.

My 4 a.m. alarm didn’t go off Tuesday morning, which meant I missed my Tuesday Bible study. That may not sound like a big deal to most people, but it is to me. I haven’t missed one since I started going nearly six months ago.

I woke up around 5 a.m. and immediately realized it was too late to rush around and try to make it on time. The real sign that I wasn’t rushing anywhere was that I didn’t even make coffee first thing. Anyone who knows me knows that’s a sure sign something is off.

After getting cleaned up and eating breakfast, I headed out to the shop and started working on some crafts with my laser. I’ve got a craft fair coming up, and every spare minute seems to be dedicated to getting items ready for it. My breakfast appointment wasn’t until 8 a.m., so I had some time to kill.

I met my friend Rick for breakfast, and of course, the first thing he asked was when we were going fishing. I told him “Soon,” but explained that I had some projects I needed to finish before the craft show. I could tell he wasn’t thrilled with that answer.

During breakfast, my phone kept ringing. No fewer than four people called wanting to talk about Scout-related matters. Even though I consider myself no longer involved in Scouts, apparently, the news hasn’t fully spread yet.

Once I got back home, I went right back to working on my crafts. Before long, the phone started ringing again. More Scout calls.

Running a laser in the shop requires attention. It’s essentially a controlled fire, and if you’re not careful, things can go wrong in a hurry. After trying to juggle phone calls and watch the laser at the same time, I finally decided it wasn’t worth the risk. I shut the laser down.

At 1 p.m., I had a dentist’s appointment.

I have a love-hate relationship with my dentist. I’ve been seeing him for over 30 years, and I trust him completely. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy what he does. I absolutely cannot stand the sound of a dental drill.

Thankfully, I haven’t had a cavity in years, but every now and then, he has to replace a filling that he put in decades ago. Yesterday was one of those days.

After leaving the dentist, things took a turn for the worse.

While merging into another lane, I was hit by a car. The driver had been turning left onto the roadway and collided with me. Before the police arrived, he admitted to me that it was his fault. But when the officers got there, his story had changed. Suddenly, he was telling them that I ran into him because I wasn’t paying attention.

There had been a witness who told me he saw the young man hit me. Unfortunately, by the time I tried to get his information, he had already left. Now I’ll have to wait five to seven business days to pick up the police report and see what it says.

Today was my bariatric appointment.

At one point, my lowest weight was 165 pounds. To be honest, I didn’t look very healthy at that weight. I had gotten too thin. People were quietly asking others if I had some sort of serious illness and wasn’t telling anyone.

My scale at home said 185 pounds this morning. I knew the doctor’s office scale would be a little heavier because of shoes and clothes. Sure enough, it read 191. Still, that’s lower than my last reading at the doctor’s office a year ago.

My doctor would like me to get down to about 175 pounds. He thinks that’s my ideal weight. Personally, I’m pretty comfortable where I am now, but I wouldn’t mind getting down to 175. I just don’t want to go much lower than that.

The next couple of days will be catch-up days.

I have projects cut out that still need sanding. Items that are sanded but need painting. And pieces that are painted but still need to be glued together and assembled.

But even with all the chaos this week, there has been a bright moment.

My wife and I had dinner with one of my daughter’s boyfriends. During dinner, he asked us for permission to ask my daughter to marry him.

It felt strange even writing that sentence.

I can hardly believe that soon I may have a married daughter and gain a son-in-law. He’s a good young man, and I truly believe he cares deeply about her. I know she feels the same way about him.

She had been worried that I might not give my permission. But I would never stand in the way of my daughter’s happiness.

That moment was a candle in what had otherwise been a pretty dark and stressful week.

Now I’m hoping the rest of the week goes by quietly and uneventfully.

After all the doctor’s appointments, the phone calls, and a car accident, I think I’ve earned a couple of calm days.