It’s my month to care for our family cemetery, so I spent most of the day doing my duty on the quiet hillside. I’ve come to notice that when I’m working there, I actually take the time to absorb the natural beauty of our secluded valley, especially on days like today, with the cerulean hue of an N.C. Wyeth sky, and the wooded knobs in their full summer contours. It was hot and humid, but I didn’t mind. I’d gotten any discomfort out of my system early in the day during a 10k run on Bluegrass Pike (after Buck showed off his new MINI Cooper topless—super-swank!).
Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
And I think to myself
Saturday, July 23rd, 2005When the way things oughta be ain’t
Thursday, July 21st, 2005Dana’s been putting in too much overtime trying to sidetrack any effort to discharge Bruce to an inappropriate facility while his medical situation remains tenuous. Thankfully, Jerome has taken time to advise Pam, plus valuable counsel is coming in from friends who know their way around the health care system.
Two examples—
“I know that you don’t need any more pressure at this time but that is the reality. Don’t hesitate to call the case manager and tell her/him that they need to make something happen. Also, call the chief of nephrology and any other medical team caring for Bruce, as well as the hospital administrator. If you’re not getting the satisfaction that you need then you keep going up the ladder. You’ll eventually rattle the right person.”
“…there is absolutely no excuse for the quality of care to be sacrificed. Problem is, physicians are pressured by administrators to rapidly get costly patients out of the hospital. You will never get an admission by anyone that this actually happens. If you aren’t getting the response you need I suggest making an appointment with the hospital administrator and in as nice as manner as possible serve notice that you are unwilling to tolerate poor quality in the name of a dollar. I can’t tell you the number of times I have seen patients drop through the cracks after an acute battle. Doctors loose interest or perhaps they just move on to the next big challenge. Feeding the ego can be such a dangerous thing….especially in medicine.”
Herding cats
Monday, July 18th, 2005We decided to spend the night, staying over long enough to monitor the situation with Bruce, to be sure he’s stable before we head in the direction of home. The surgical resident seems relatively free of tunnel vision and has agreed to attempt setting up a family conference with the various practitioners involved. We’ll see if that might happen any time soon. Since Bruce’s pancreas is still leaking, I’m mystified as to why that impressive pancreatic specialist who helped save his life in April is no longer a part of the team. Perhaps I shouldn’t be. The miserable economics of “safety-net medicine” or petty turfism would explain it.
Circling the wagons
Sunday, July 17th, 2005Something hasn’t felt right about the situation with Bruce, especially after having to avert his precipitous transfer to an inferior convalescent facility. When the harsh economics of modern health care kick in, sanity seems to drain away rapidly. After an enlightening (and fortuitous) conversation with Audrey, it’s my firm opinion that he needs hospital-based rehabilitation with aggressive physical therapy, while preserving high-level continuity of care. My viewpoint hardened last night when his potassium level spiked dangerously and the nephrologist ordered emergency dialysis, personally wheeling his bed out of the room. Dana has been persistent in her role as protector, but I see signs of a deep weariness. I must say that Bruce’s wife Pam has come through admirably as a forceful advocate of common sense over the past few days. Way to go! Let’s get some mileage out of that personality, Toots…
Saturday sojourn
Saturday, July 16th, 2005Headed north to hit the Seitz Family Reunion, and then west to Indy for a visit with Bruce.
I switched to a digital camera this year to take the portrait. It was tricky, but the group was surprisingly cooperative and full of good cheer. At least I had a real-time verification, which reduced the stress of whether I got a decent shot. Seth gave me a VHS tape of his editing work. I didn’t have time to talk to Brendan; wanted to discuss Urban Dead. James and I got a kick out of Mark’s hundred-foot row of zucchini. What was the poor devil thinking!?
(ps — Did anyone else get chiggers?)
Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better
Friday, July 15th, 2005Thought a lot about Uncle Clarence today, so I sent him one of my cards. Knowing how much I’ll miss Aunt Alma, I can’t begin to appreciate his sorrow. They were married for almost 73 years!
Also spent some time on the Web trying to find out more about my eye condition. Nothing compares to medical science when it comes to creating barriers to basic understanding. Diplopia— Why not just say “double vision?” Asthenopia— Why not call it “eyestrain?” Nothing doing.
So I have to get used to decrypting phrases like “cyclovertical heterophoria” and “dissociated strabismus complex.”
HELP! I need Maria’s brain!
Dateline London
Thursday, July 14th, 2005Word comes from Brendan that his traveling mom—my sister Joan—saw Brian Dennehy perform on stage.
NO FAIR!
So long, my friend
Wednesday, July 13th, 2005Mack was buried in a family cemetery on his farm, as some day I will be at our farm (near the grave of my namesake). Mack was a generous man… no, more than that—magnanimous. The same can be said about my father. They also had in common a low-key personality that was somehow magnetic. They were both complex, multi-talented individuals with deep connections to the natural world. Whatever they chose to do, they did well—and they attempted many wide-ranging things. They also had a profound spiritual side to their character that was instructive by example, never overbearing. Until today, I hadn’t thought about how Mack and Dadbo were so much alike. Indispensable to their families, the void they leave can never be filled. It can only be honored. Mack was not a father figure to me, but perhaps a mentor, although I thought of him only as a friend, which, I believe, is all he would’ve wanted. And even though he defied the foe until the end—with his expansive optimism, quiet competitiveness, and good cheer—I think he knew that everyone in his world was watching how he countered death’s grasp, as we all must when our time comes, and continued to share his graceful spirit until called to run the unknown trail ahead of us.
A new concern
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005Dana and I made a Lexington run to do routine errands and get our eyes examined. The eye condition that I’ve had for some time was diagnosed as hyperphoria.
Jeanne, it’s time to cut me off again
Monday, July 11th, 2005Here we go; these painful losses seem to come in clusters.
First my Aunt Alma, then my good friend Mack, and now my pal Bob D, one of the outstanding Bobs in my life.
I don’t know, Johnny, I really don’t know
Saturday, July 9th, 2005Seth and I put in a rigorous session with Lady Casablanca and learned a few hard lessons in our first team effort to produce a final cut of “Pirate Revenge.” When we were no longer laughing at our funniest scenes, we knew it was time to call it a night.
Weird, wild stuff
Friday, July 8th, 2005Just for the heck of it, I googled for the word “Bruce.” Although he didn’t come up on the search, Bruce will get a kick out of the fact that Bruce Campbell topped Willis with the first listing, and that Bruce Lee was next, beating out Springsteen. Bruce Cockburn made page two. Lenny Bruce didn’t show up until page ten, and no Robert the Bruce until page 14. I didn’t see Jenner until 52 or Boxleitner until 61.
When I google for “Bruce” and “Uncle John,” we come up as the fourth item. When I add “Indianapolis,” we’re number one.
Even Uncle Bob, who has forgotten more about computer science than many programmers will ever learn, is amazed at Google’s penetration. When he googled for his home base, “Broadwing Farm,” it came up first, with the Dixon Design page that exhibits our work for the farm’s “Red Crow Hot Sauce” a few listings down.
I wonder how long it will take for this particular page to be catalogued within their system?
(ps — Bon Voyage to Uncle Bob, Aunt Carol, and Joan. Be sealed in angel armor…)
Various & Sundry, part twenty-one
Thursday, July 7th, 2005— If we need another grim reminder that the world is at war, this story makes it clear that we’re all potentially in harm’s way—especially when we leave the homeland—as Joan, Aunt Carol, and Uncle Bob are planning to do this weekend. Manolo, get out your Blessing Engine. Meanwhile, the rest of us will pray—hard.
— Speaking of Bobs, I’ve known a few in my life. A Bob is never wishy-washy, but invariably an exceptional guy (occasionally you’ll encounter one who is distinctly uncool), and always makes an impression. This Bob is one of my favorites, and so I’ll do my part to extend his 15 minutes of fame.
— At Aunt Alma’s funeral I talked to cousin Don (accomplished musician and former CEO of Rolodex), and, without any prompting from me, he declared Centre professor Vince DiMartino as the greatest living Jazz trumpet virtuoso. Hmm… At the Brass Band Festival, Vince gave the honor to his friend Allen Vizzutti. Anyway, here’s a montage I made from shots I took during the Festival, so you can see the world’s finest trumpet player in action, whichever one he is!
Josh—be safe and secure until you come home
Wednesday, July 6th, 2005The latest news is that my nephew has lost another fellow Guardsman. There is no doubt that the mission of the 623rd in Iraq is extremely dangerous. Nothing yet about whether Josh was assigned to the convoy that day.
Talisman, talisman, grace my hand
Tuesday, July 5th, 2005After a visit with Bruce, we headed northeast to Celina, Ohio, watching fireworks erupt 360 degrees into the night sky on our way out of greater Indianapolis. This morning we gathered with family in St. Henry for the funeral of Aunt Alma. Mombo gave a reading and was determined to get through it—for her sister—and she did. We viewed the extraordinary Munich-style stained glass windows at St. Bernard’s in Burkettsville and then made the short trip to Maria Stein to pray at the Shrine of the Holy Relics. There’s only one or two other chapels like it in this part of the world, and it’s so unusual that I have no idea how to describe it. In fact, it will take me some time to assimilate the experience, and the way it sent tremors through my spiritual, philosophical, and historical sensibilities…
Family matters most
Monday, July 4th, 2005The nephrologist told Bruce that his kidney has a shrinking cortex with diminished blood flow, so the call was made to discontinue the anti-rejection medication. This is heartbreaking news, and it means that Bruce faces an indefinite period of life on dialysis. This will undoubtedly slow his physical therapy, but he’s a determined fighter, as we’ve learned, and has faced down every setback so far. Dana and I are leaving now for Indianapolis to go see him with my brother Jerome, and then the three of us will head to St. Henry, Ohio to pay our respect to Mombo’s sister, our dear Aunt Alma, who passed away before her 99th birthday. I’ve been fortunate to have many outstanding role models in my life. Aunt Alma and her husband Clarence have been two of them. Gentle strength was her shining attribute, and Uncle Clarence is the finest example of sustained poise that I’ve ever witnessed.
(ps — Happy Birthday, Uncle Sam!)
Various & Sundry, part twenty
Friday, July 1st, 2005— Month of June workout totals: Swim-8; Bike-1; Run-0; Lift-0; Yoga-1.
— If the state of my exercise program gets any more pathetic, I’ll be counting the times I cut the lawn with Uncle Art’s old mechanical push mower.
— Lots of people reach a point in their career and then say, “I think I’ll retire.” A few say, “I think I’ll do something really amazing and then retire.” One man says, “I think I’ll eat all the paintings in the Louvre, bed every woman in Paris, kick over the Eiffel Tower, and then retire.”
— And, by the way, if you think there’s too much rancor in the nation’s capital, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.
A time of horror vs a shining moment of solidarity
Tuesday, June 28th, 2005Dana and I took time tonight to have a nice dinner at Two Roads Cafe in Danville, sharing a Cabernet from my favorite Washington State winery, Chateau Ste Michelle. I remember first learning of it during a riverboat cruise we attended for the wedding rehearsal dinner of a former Centre intern. It wasn’t long after September 11 and I was wearing my flag lapel pin, which attracted a New Yorker who was present. He expressed his thanks to me for the show of support (yes, he took my gesture as personally significant to him—you have to recall the mood of the times), and we enjoyed each other’s friendship as he kindly introduced me to a family of reliably fine wines before we said our farewells later that evening.
When I think back to experiences like that, I wish that it was easier for us humans to discern the core essentials of life at times other than peril, tragedy, or loss…
Various & Sundry, part nineteen
Sunday, June 26th, 2005— Richard Benedetto’s recent column rests on that blurry line between news reporting and opinion, but it’s nevertheless a thought-provoking read. It’s title, “Turning old enemies into friends has long benefited the U.S.” makes me think about the other side of the coin: “Turning old enemies’ enemies into new enemies has long been the role of the U.S.” That’s the part of this issue most would agree on. And with the way things are, that’s probably the only part.
— The enormous virus/spam wave that’s going on right now is a huge problem. That’s why I get such a kick out of finding a sparkle of joy in the whole mess: Spam as Folk Art—the only silver lining out there. Last week my email service had 1.6 million mails hit their machines. Some 500,000 were rejected as viruses, and a bit over 800,000 rejected as spam, leaving some 200,000 or so to be delivered as legitimate mail (hopefully), but some crap does get through. I feel for all the “good guys” trying hard to stay on the back of this tiger. Somewhere out there is a young vigilante looking for his cause. A suggestion: 1) round up every spammer and virus writer, 2) make them swallow an overdose of viagra while getting an enema bag of liquified mortgage applications on the other end. (Uh-oh… I told Brendan’s mom that this would be a mom-friendly blog).
— Just in case you notice half a grand of spare cash sitting on your dresser top, and you don’t particularly care for shooting real handguns, add a Han Solo Blaster to your cart (or, for the more civilized, a nifty lightsaber).
— OK, it’s time to be serious. Good news from Bruce
personally; they talked to him about his eventual transfer to a rehabilitation center, which is a clear sign that his medical situation is improving in a positive and predictable way. See that light at the end of the tunnel, my son? I pray you’re there in no time!
— Best wishes to my brother Jay and his bride Glenda, who got hitched in Liberty this morning among a large contingent of our Clan. God bless you both, and may all our dreams meet to expand His glory.
Oldenday X
Saturday, June 25th, 2005My family was never far from my mind during the seven months I lived in Europe during 1974. (In fact, I so turned off a pretty Flemish girlfriend by admitting I missed my family that she dumped me within hours for a Belgian doofus named Bruno.) One way I could feel connected to my brothers was to think about “The Legend,” and it was easy to be inspired, surrounded as I was by all the fascinating history of feudal conflicts, life on the manor, warring political factions, imperialistic ventures, and Napoleonic exploits. I was constantly encountering the art, architecture, accouterments, and weapons of the general time period we’d chosen to frame our imaginary world of swashbucklers and tyrants. When my brother James sent me a letter mentioning Hedda Keeh, one of our beloved characters (a native of the Western Plaines and Peace Chief of his nation), I plunged into the creation of a comprehensive map and sent it home along with our most ambitious document to date—a long letter from Joncules Dix to his half-brother Jimcus (otherwise known as Chaims-Dan, or Man-With-Flying-Feet, from his years among the outcast monks of Chap). Before long, the nonlinear structure of our narrative was firmly rooted in the idea of producing documents and artifacts that revealed only a portion of the totality, which would then lead to further discussion, attempts at integration, and ongoing creativity (often using dioramas built with the very type of plastic figures that influenced our imagination from the beginning). It became a perfect organizing principle—not original to us, I suspect—and reinforced the historicity of our approach, removing it forever from a strictly oral realm. An explosion of development followed, with numerous drawings, carvings, models, and written fragments. Spinning yarns within “The Legend” has never been the same since.
Baggin’ dee bunny gold
Friday, June 24th, 2005Since I’m trying to bolster a few spots in my yard with some quality organic fertilizer, I asked James about his stockpile of “bunny gold” under the rabbit pens. It made me think of when we were kids, and Mr. Wagner was shocked that we hadn’t jumped on the opportunity to earn pocket change by filling empty feed bags with manure at 50 cents a pop. As James aptly sums it up: “We just weren’t money driven, and not much has changed since then.”
Inner focus vs outer chaos
Wednesday, June 22nd, 2005As he bears down on 14 weeks in the Clarian system, Bruce is starting to get some physical therapy again, but it’s been a rough climb back out of the abyss since his setback over the Memorial Day weekend. Yesterday he was able to get on his feet for the first time in three or four weeks (I lost count), and that should help his mood, because he faces having to redo all the muscular progress he made during the month of May. Apparently the nephrologist told him it’s unlikely that his transplanted organ will wake up this time, but the specialists were wrong in April, so why not stay hopeful and keep praying? That kidney has been through a lot, it’s true, and Jerome was astonished when it kicked in the last time, declaring it a “medical miracle.” I wonder— what’s “Doc” thinking now? The situation isn’t any easier with people around Bruce dumping their personal problems on him instead of protecting the fragile alchemy of his vision for healing. He doesn’t need the added burden of worrying about extraneous ineptitude and financial disarray (and that should go without saying, but I said it).