You went to law school for this?

It is possible I am being sued.

I got a call yesterday at work and the recording told me that "I need to serve you papers at your home or office. Please call 877..."

It never called me by name, though. And when I called the number, a message asked me to leave my name. I declined and hung up.

If it is not some scam, I suspect the woman who I replaced was the target. Ever since I started almost two years ago, I have been getting calls for her from people for her. They aren't friendly calls, either.

I support her in this instance because this is lawyering at its sleaziest.

This is healthy?

My doctor has again pronounced me in good shape after my physical. I'd like to add a few caveats.

1. I still have Friedreich's ataxia, a monstrously horrid condition.
2. I have some, ahem, rectal bleeding. This is no real surprise, but she thinks I should get a colonoscopy. Short of sleeping on the toilet, I am just not sure how I could survive the prep for this test.
3. I have kidney stones. They are still in my kidney and we hope they will gather much moss and be there till I die, which might not be that long because ...
4. I HAVE NODULES ON MY LEFT LUNG! WT-holy flying-F? My doctor is not worried because they are small and I am a low-risk factor. She said they are most likely scar tissue or something benign. She added that we should not panic and wants me to have a test in six months to look at them and see i they have changed My sister said her google research also showed cancer is unlikely, but I have to wait six months to find out. And of course, I am panicking. I just know that I already have worse lung cancer than a 23-pack a day smoker or tuberculosis to rival Doc Holliday's.
   
   I have never smoked, ever. But I blame the cigarettes I found after one of my great uncles visited or maybe after Mom and Dad's dinners years ago. I didn't smoke the cigarettes. Mostly, I just remember opening them up on Gram's back steps.

Six months of this? Maybe I'll worry about the colonoscopy.

Going gray

I saw my urologist last week, but let's forget the kidney stones and real with the real issue.

When did you get so old, she said. Your hair is so gray. Later, she said she thought I was dying my hair to look like George Clooney.

I'd write her off as a quack except I have been noticing how gray my hair is, too. Ugh.

I am a Sally Jewell man

I do my best not to get political here. BUT

I don't think it is political to say I am firmly in the tank for Interior Secretary Sally Jewell.

I met her today, and she is impressive and personable, probably like all politicians.

What won me over, though, was that when we were chatting, she squatted down to look me in the eye. No just bending over or looking down.

It was the best!

My sister has a rotten night

I have had worse nights than last night -- none springs to mind -- but I am sure they exist.

I woke up at 3 and did not have to go to the bathroom, but I thought to myself, well, I better use the urinal just in case. This seems to be code telling my bladder that it reallyreallyREALLY has to go.

I would have been fine, but I fumbled putting on my glasses. They fell on my chest. So I tried to use the urinal without seeing clearly. The first clue I missed was the warm rush in my hand. Then I felt it all over, including my chest where my useless glasses were. I managed to call my sister but also called Mom and Dad because I was being delicate with the phone since my hand was wet.

My sister helped me change and put towels all over my bed, then left. I lay there and cried after she left. What a horrid failure, I thought. But it got worse.

About 4:30, I woke up and decided to shower because the towels were no longer keeping me dry. I got to the bathroom, and my bladder did its reallyreallyREALLY thing again and I peed on the floor and my wheelchair cushion. I managed to get in my shower chair and thought I'd be able to go from there on my own. Right.

My glasses fell off again and I could not find them, so I found my sunglasses and put them on -- I had taken my clothes off for the shower so was wearing nothing but the shades. Then I listed off the wet wheelchair cushion. It quickly fell out of my hands into the shower stall, at which point I figured I better call my sister.

But I could not find my phone. I had to call her from the house phone, so I had to wheel over in my nakedness and sunglasses to that phone. Once again, she came and fixed everything. Then she asked if I wanted her to stay downstairs while I showered. No, I assured her.

I am an idiot.

I fell getting out of my shower chair and had to call her again. And again she came and helped with everything.

I am worried the whole Matt Trott experience is too much for her.

I told her this, and she said let's put you out on the street, see if someone picks you up.

I just hate all this.

Suck it up

When I first told work about my kidney stone, to a person they said take it easy, get better.

When I started teleworking as I recovered, several folks told me to not overdo it and get better, to not push it.

They didn't really get that my only problem was a need to be near the toilet.

But the larger  issue was that people wanted me to trust my body, which is a lying sack o' crap.

If I only did what my body wanted, I'd never get up.

I, and I imagine most folks with disabilities, have to push ourselves.

That's one reason I found myself in the car going to Richmond yesterday to celebrate the graduations of two nieces and a nephew. It is usually two hours each way, and my rule of thumb is I need to stay longer than the time in the car to make it worth my while. This would not meet that rule but you can't always listen to how you feel.

Traffic was miserable so we turned around and it still took four plus hours to get home.

But I survived.

Indestructible

The various parts of my body are so F-----G pathetic.

Take my bladder, for instance (Please, take it. Thank you, Henny Youngman). I don't have t o go to the bathroom, but I go anyway. I am fine heading to the bathroom. I get in the stall, and all of a sudden, I have to go like no one's business.

And it doesn't help that my idiot fingers are fumbling with my pants buttons and zipper or that my stupid legs are wobbling as I try to stand or transfer.

But in good news, I believe that all these flawed parts have combined in something similar to the Three Stooges Syndrome to make me indestructible.

I say this because I fell as I was transferring back to my chair on one of the no-accident visits to the bathroom today. SMACK onto the tile floor. My forehead hit with a bounce, I saw stars, then was fine. No blood, no pain.

As I said: Indestructible.

Of course, I did have to peek under the stall door to get someone to come help me up.

Babysat

I babysat my nephew and niece last night ... in theory.

I say in theory because even though I am 41 and my niece and nephew together are 18, I am not sure who was looking out for whom.

True, I did get them in their sleeping bags about 9:30, as requested, but after that, I am not sure who was in charge.

At 10:30, I was getting ready for bed and went to take Claren out. My niece saw me and got up and opened the door.

Then as I got into bed, I knocked off a wheelchair leg. Ten seconds later, I heard my door open as my niece checked on me.

Play ball

If you were to ask my sister, I am writing infrequently because I am wasting my time on a baseball game.

It is true I am playing Out of the Park Baseball a lot because it is awesome. But I am not writing because of my still-over-active bladder.

I am not comfortable getting out of my chair yet, and it is hard to write in my chair.

So I play ball.

What a friend

A friend of mine is turning 50, and his wife asked friends for remembrances. Here's mine:

...  I think the most memorable for me was March 12, 1994, the night D saved my life. D and I were there as Northwestern unbelievably beat Michigan in basketball, and as the game neared its end D  turned to me -- his small, balance-challenged friend -- and said, "They're going to storm the court," which they did. I was fine, though, because D stood in front of me with his hands on my shoulders, bracing me against the riotous fans.