Thoroughly Prepared

This is my last morning getting up for work in The Ragley apartment. I've loved living here, make no mistake, but I'm really looking forward to Wallingford for many reasons. It'll be the first dwelling that Laura and I get to make from scratch. It's going to be about half the rent of this place. And I'm ready for some new scenery and happy hour places. I'll be moving there with no debt of any kind, making this move the last step in preparing for living on social security.

I keep finding myself nervous about that transition. Like there's some detail I've left out, overlooked, or haven't accounted for that will make this plan come crashing down. I've tried to think as far ahead as possible, but you just never know. After the move is completed I'm going to start piecing the logistics together and gathering specific details. I feel like I need to prepare myself for this to possibly not work, so in the case that it actually doesn't, I don't end up crushed with disappointment. I'll just thoroughly prepare. Very, very thoroughly.

Feeling Ahead of the Game

I started back to work yesterday, Monday June 9th after a little over 5 weeks off. If I'm being optimistic (I try to be optimistic) then I would say something like "It was nice being back and seeing everyone". Let's just go with that. It actually wasn't horrible, people were (are) generally supportive and nice. They all know what I'm going through, and what this big absence was all about. Even people I never really talk to are suddenly my friends, which is kinda weird, but I think going through this and coming back to work in the same location gives me some street cred. I was hearing about a lot of the rumors that were floating around while I was out, people were saying that I'd never be back, or that I was going to be fired, or that I would be out for a year and a half, etc... But I'm a little tougher then that. They are starting to realize this.

Now I am focussed on moving. The apartment is really coming together, I've been packing a pile of boxes, then driving them over in my car to the new place. We had to double up on rent for the two apartments for this month because the deal over there was too good to pass up. It's been pretty convenient though because we're almost moved in. I'm aiming to only have furniture that couldn't be loaded into my (or Laura's) car. That plan is actually coming together nicely. I came home form work yesterday with this idea I was going to pack a few boxes and take them over, but most of the packing is done. I vacuumed and rolled up most of the area rugs, loaded up all my shoes except one pair, and a couple other odds and ends. We're having house guests this weekend, so some of the stuff here needs to stay, but we're really close to being done. A few more boxes and day-trips over there and Sunday's move really will be strictly furniture. It's nice feeling ahead of the game like this :)

That's about it for now. As I move closer to retirement, and that date looms closer, I'll (try to) continue to update this blog. Thanks for reading.

Harley: Sold

I sold the Harley a couple days ago. As much as that bike has meant to me, it was time to say goodbye. I bought "Danger Roja" brand new after completing 26 radiation treatments and 59 bone-crunching chemo treatments. She was a reward to myself for making it through all of that, and was an instrumental tool in pulling me out of that chemo induced fog and back into the world of the living. I put almost 52,000 miles on her and wrecked the ever loving shit out of her once, and juiced every bit of life giving serum out of her I possibly could have, but it was time to find her a new home.

I placed a craigslist ad laying out the whole story of her, every last detail. Most people who wreck their bikes won't mention it in the ad, but I felt like it was a piece of a much larger, and very interesting story. It took a couple days to be contacted by her potential buyer, but it did happen. Paying off the loan balance was a bit tricky because the bank Harley uses for all their in-house financing is in Illinois, so the payment would have to be sent in and processed before they would release the title. The new buyer (Jeff) was a little unsure about this, thinking the bike might be stolen or have a salvaged title, or any other scam people run on people from craigslist.

In the half-day he was hemming and hawing, I was contacted by a second interested party, Jim who happened to be Jeff's co worker. Jeff had been talking about the bike at work, so Jim looked up the ad and set up a time that evening to come take a look. When he saw Danger, saw that the registration had my name in it and that the vin number matched up, he called Jeff and said he was being an asshole about it, and that if he didn't make a move on it within two days, Jim was going to buy it out from under him. He basically sold the bike for me, which was a relief :) Two days later I drove her down to the trucking company in SoDo where the guys worked and took payment. Jeff and I drove (in his car) out to BECU to get a cashier's check to send off to Harley to pay off the loan balance, and I took the remainder in cash. The title should process in about 14 business days, then we'll have to meet back up so I can sign the title over to him. I'll have enough left over to pay off my one remaining credit card so I'll enter into this new phase of life completely debt free. Without the expense of the bike, and with the half-proced apartment, this transition should be pretty easy :)

In other news, today I have an appointment at work to take my return to work pee test. Once this comes back clean (it should take a few more days to determine that) I'll be authorized to start back to work. Then it'll be time to plan out when my last day will be. This is really coming together, and, though I'm not excited to go back to that warehouse and face everyone who knows I'm "the cancer patient who got busted for smoking pot", I'm looking forward to this all coming to an end.

Then I'll have a huge retirement party :)

Gruesome Understatement

I'm pretty sure I mentioned it in the last post, but I won't be allowed to return to work until I give a completely clean pee test. So last Tuesday I took myself to a drug and alcohol treatment clinic down in Tukwilla to take a certified test that is sent to an actual laboratory to get certified measurements and levels of drugs in my system. I got the results yesterday afternoon, which were negative for everything including marijuana. They test to within a 20 nanogram (ng) tolerance. I called the social worker I've been dealing with at work, a terrible human who inspires me to use only the most vile insults the English language has to offer, but for the sake of brevity I'll just call her something like "the social worker from work" or "that person". But trust me when I issue the following gruesome understatement: she lacks compassion. 

 

I called her to inform her she can schedule the "return to work u.a." because of the findings of the test I took on Tuesday. She was like "Good news! What are the tolerances they measure to?" I told her they test to within 20ng, and she was like "Oh... We're going to need something a lot more comprehensive then that to get you back to work. I usually recommend Lakeside Treatment Clinic, maybe you should call them" I called the clinic I had already gone to and asked if they had something that tests to lower tolerances, perhaps something that goes all the way to zero. The guy I spoke to there was some supervisor or something, someone who knows his way around these sorts of things, and he said a 20ng test is enough to hold up in any court, legally it is considered to be "clean". And it's not like I had 20ng in my system, but that was as close as they get with a pee test. I mentioned that the social worker from work said I should go to Lakeside, and he said they all use the same labs for testing. The only way to get lower then 20ng was to take a blood test, which was extremely uncommon (and expensive), and still can't get to zero, but closer to 5ng. He said it was likely the person I was dealing with didn't know what she was talking about, and in fact seemed like she was trying to get rid of me. He advised me to get in touch with an employment attorney.

While I was on the phone with him, the social worker from work called back and left a message that said she was going to go ahead and schedule the pee test to return to work, and hopefully by then I would be clean. I told her about the conversation I had with the gentleman from the pee test I took, that he said that 20ng would hold up in court and that he had never heard of a test that could determine levels lower then that. She scoffed and said "trust me, they're out there". 

I do not believe her. I think she doesn't want to be wrong. The shitty thing is that she's fucking with someone who ISN'T A DRUG ADDICT. I'm dealing with something more serious then just getting crunked and twisted. She is lying to me like I'm just some dude. As though my situation isn't serious. Complete ignorance is what that job has to offer me. Complete fucking prideful pig headed ignorance. Willful unknowing. 

So I should hear by next week when my "return to work pee test" will be, then it'll be a few more days till the results will be available. I'll be out for another week and a half from now, and I'm currently up to 4 weeks of no pay. The only thing keeping all my atoms from exploding at once is the thought that I only have to work a little longer, just enough to recover from this financial loss, then I'm going to be able to walk out of there for good. 

I hate how I'm being treated. It's been so shocking. Every step of this gets more and more humiliating and cold. The lack of compassionate understanding is nauseating. I'm almost done. I'm almost done. I'm almost done. 

In other news, it looks like I've sold the bike. It was kind of a cool story the way it came down, I'll save it for my next post, but the new owner is going to take possession on Monday. Then our moving date is set for the 15th. It's weird to think that about three weeks ago I said "I can do without this pool table and giant apartment and fancy motorcycle and lifestyle if it means being able to have the time to do things that fill me up, not tear me down. I'm well on my way. My "to-do" list is dwindling down more and more, and I love seeing this plan come together. That was almost "Hannibal from The A-Team", I know, but it just came out like that :) 

I Love Drugs

Time for an update. Lots has been going on in my life. Let's start with 4 weeks ago...

At work I operate an electric forklift (called a "stacker") in very close proximity to airplane wings that are brought into the warehouse. The wings arrive on a transportation dolly, then are transferred by a crane crew to a secondary dolly to be sent down the manufacturing line where all moving parts and plumbing are installed (fuel and hydraulic lines, flaps, engine struts, etc.). Ever since I started in this location I've thought it was dangerous to be operating the stacker as close to the wing as I do, I've seen an accident here as inevitable, and have said as much to anyone who would listen to me. I am not very loud and powerful at work, so my warnings went unnoticed and the inevitable happened. I brushed up against the wing edge causing a very small amount of damage. I was sent immediately for a urinalyses (a pee test) to determine if I was high on drugs.

It may come as a surprise to some, but I smoke marijuana on a regular basis as part of my cancer treatment regimen. My treatment drug (Vemurafenib) reduces my appetite fairly dramatically, and the marijuana  helps with this. I have known that it is against company policy for me to be doing this, but over the past 6 years of dealing with this terrible illness, I've had to make some tough choices, smoking marijuana being one of them. When the urinalysis showed positive for marijuana my badge was taken and I was escorted to the gate. I wasn't even allowed to ride my motorcycle off the property because I tested positive, and was assumed to be under the influence (for the record, a person can test positive for marijuana for several days to several weeks after smoking, a positive test does not determine when the marijuana was actually ingested). The company doesn't terminate people on the spot for this offense anymore, instead they assume a drug addiction problem is to blame. No amount of doctor approved authorization is accepted as an excuse for the use of marijuana as a medication, they simply assume a drug problem is present and proceed as if that were the case. The company's relationship with the F.A.A. and their contracts with the Department of Defense means they must strictly adhere to federal laws when it comes to marijuana use, and since it is still federally illegal, all positive marijuana tests need to be addressed in this way.

I was assigned to a drug and alcohol social worker who asked some very personal questions about my family. Questions like "what were the drinking habits of your great grand parents?", or "Is your mom or sister heavy?". The counselor was looking for any reason to see me as a drug addict, looking for any addiction history or pattern of addictive behavior to justify sending me to drug and alcohol classes. I was being told that I might be subject to anything from a 30-day in-patient drug treatment facility, to a mandatory 6 month leave of absence so I could "clean out". It was humiliating.

I haven't been smoking any marijuana at all, and struggling with the lack of appetite. I was required to ask my oncologist to sign a form to literally rescind his authorization for my marijuana use. Instead I was prescribed a drug called Marinol which is basically synthesized THC in pill form. I was told I'd be allowed to take this medication even though it would show up positive for marijuana on future urinalyses. I will be subject to random tests for three years. They won't get back to me on whether or not a drug test can differentiate between smoked marijuana and Marinol even though they have said things like "we'll call you as soon as we know...", and I'm not going to put my job on the line over their ignorance. As though I'm not struggling to eat a fucking meal, as though this situation isn't urgent. No call backs. No word. Aparantly I'm the first case there where this has been the issue, and no one knows which end is up.

There is more to this story then I'm going to go into here. It gets deeper and more disrespectful then I have time to write about, like a hole that just goes farther and farther into the Earth. This process has been humiliating and embarrassing in ways that are hard to articulate. Having my work place dictate my health care has been so invasive and frustrating. I can't quite emphasize the amount of frustration Laura and I have experienced as a result of this, not to mention all the people who love me and want to see my continued triumph over the horrible beast I've been at war with the past 6 years. Not to mention the wages I've lost from being out of work almost a month now are about double the cost of the damage I caused with the little brush-up that started this whole ordeal.

To make a long story a little longer, I've started thinking about the possibility of going into long term disability and collecting social security. I looked into it, and it turns out there's a thing called "compassionate allowance" which gives a fast-track approval to people with certain diagnoses, and malignant melanoma with metastases is on the list. I was able to look up on the social security website to see what my monthly payments would be. It would be a fairly large cut in income, but with a few lifestyle changes, we can make it work, and I would be essentially retired. I'm in the process of selling the motorcycle, and Laura and I signed a lease on a smaller apartment in Wallingford that will be almost half the price of the place we're currently living.

The plan is this: I must have a clean urine test to return to work. Once that is settled, I will be found to be "in compliance". Then I will have my oncologist take me back out of work on a "medical leave". This won't be hard to do, considering my diagnosis. This medical leave can be extended 30 days at a time for up to two years. Medicare doesn't kick in for social security beneficiaries for two years, so being on medical leave assures I'll keep my current medical insurance for $50 a month. After the two years is up, I will break my ties with Boeing and collect medicare. I can take medical leave as soon as I'm ready to do so, I'm thinking I'll return to work, stay long enough to pad my savings account from this unexpected financial drain, maybe get a few things I might not be able to afford once I'm collecting social security, then I'll be throwing a retirement party. Right now, I'm considering myself to be "pretired".

This situation started out as perhaps the most stressful in recent memory. However, I have considered possibilities that I would not have had the guts to entertain under any other circumstances. My life is about to change very dramatically, but I'm going to have the time to persue things that are truly fulfilling to me, like art and music. I'm going to be able to stay up past 8:30 because I won't be waking up at 3am. I'm gong to have so much more time with Laura without this dreadful job getting in the way. She has been an excellent reminder that the things I will have to sacrifice in order to make this plan work are nothing when compared to the things I've had to sacrifice in order to continue working in this thankless business.

Sorry for this novel, I hope this has been clear enough to make sense.

The Crate Project

I've finally set a date for my art show. It'll be Saturday May 3rd at Harry's Bar (514 15th ave e.). I'm planning on having an "opening" party starting around 6 that evening. All are welcome, please feel free to come check out what I've been working on over the last 14 months or so. All the art has been produced using repurposed wood from the crate our diner booth was delivered in. There's two pieces hanging in Vivace on Broadway right now, but those are going to come down at the end of the month and will be a part of the May 3rd show. There should be about 7 or 8 pieces, and maybe one more if I can get it completed in time. Almost all pieces in the show will be available for sale, so start thinking about how much wall space you have, and how you can accommodate some new art :) 

The New-New Eye Part Two

The surgery was a success. The anesthesiologist also did a better job, during the previous lens replacement, I was, more or less, completely conscious and aware. I got a little squirmy, but who wouldn't get squirmy when razor blades are introduced into your eyeballs? Pupil spreader, anyone? This time around I pretty much said I needed to be sedated at least some. The Dr. also gave me a shot behind my eye to paralyze it so it wouldn't be moving during the procedure. The last thing I remember was chatting it up with the O.R. staff, the next thing I know he's sliding the new lens into place, which is the last part of the already-short operation. I remember being instantly grateful.

I left the eye patch on till about 3:00 (I was home from the hospital a little before 10am). The surgeon warned me that when I remove it, I'm going to have some pretty weird double vision because of the behind-the-eye paralyzing shot he gave me. The eye was going to be paralyzed for at least 8 hours, but probably more. I could tell the eye was moving around in the bandage, so I thought the effects had worn off. Once the patch came off, I instantly realized how wrong I was.

The eye was completely crossed into the corner. I looked fucking freaky. It felt fucking freaky. It was very disorienting. I was looking mostly out of the eye that was not operated on, since that was the only one that would point at the mirror. I made it out into the living room, sat on the love seat and looked across the living room at a guitar sitting in it's stand. The double vision made it look like the guitar was in opposite corners of the room. I'd focus on the guitar on the left, but when I'd go to look at the guitar on the right, it would move away from my viewing. I couldn't try this game too much because it was profoundly creepy. I put the eye patch back on, and left it there (taking it off for more eye drops only) till the next morning. By then the eye had returned to a more normal state, at least in terms of motion.

It looks like the right eye (the one that was operated on Tuesday) is going to heal clearer then the left eye. Lefty has been very slightly out of focus, it turns out I have astigmatism (or is it 'I have an astigmatism'?) very slightly, and the organic lens I was born with compensated for it. The new lens can't focus itself, so the astigmatism is readily apparent. The astigmatism in the right eye must be less then the left, it's healing more clearly. I'll probably still need glasses, but it won't be until the eyes completely calm down from all the excitement.

Sorry for the length of this posting, I didn't mean to write a danged book about it...  

The New-New Eye

Good morning again :)

The surgery yesterday was much more comfortable then the one before. They were a little more generous with sedative drugs this time. They had to put me completely out, but only briefly so they could give me a shot behind the right eye to paralyze it so if I was sleeping during the surgery I wouldn't move the eye. I did fall asleep some time before they started prepping the eye with all the drops and what-not. I woke up right as the new lens was sliding into place, and I instantly filled with gratitude that I wasn't awake and aware for his cutting the adhesions between my iris and my old lens. That was pretty gnarly last time.

That eye-paralyzing shot, I was told, would last at least 8 hours, so when I removed my patch yesterday to start putting eye drops in, the eye just rolled into the corner and I got the most sickening double vision you could imagine. The Dr. warned me that would be the case, but it was still very disorienting. He said that it should be more normal by this morning, and behold, it is! There's still a little double vision, but the doubling is very close together, yesterday the doubling made things look like they were on opposite sides of the room entirely, and tilted about 25 degrees from center. Even though the right eye is still pretty dilated, it looks like it's going to heal clearer then the left eye. This should be interesting.

Last Cataract Surgery

Good morning,

Today is my last cataract surgery. I'll be checking in at 6:30 this morning to get my right eye lens replaced with a new one. This will be pretty much identical to the one I had replaced back on New year's eve. Just as a recap, my cancer treatment drug (Vemurafenib) causes eye inflammation called uveitis which needs to be treated with prednosolone eye drops. The prednosolone causes my eye pressure to increase, so I take Combigan and Xalatan eye drops (or iDrops, as Laura has been calling them...). It also causes cataracts to form and grow, which is why I'm having this surgery. The new lens they put in is no longer susceptible to cataracts, so I'll be able to use the prednosolone indefinitely to suppress the uveitis after these new lenses get installed. I'll also need glasses after this, so if you catch me looking a little extra smart, that's why...

This ordeal with my eyes hasn't been the most uncomfortable aspect of my cancer treatment regimen, but it has been very, very challenging. I'm really glad to be having this surgery today, and I'm looking forward to having two very clear (although very synthetic) eye lenses.

New Eye

It's been a few days since receiving my new eye lens, and it's still a little blurry, but the difference between my right eye (old) and left eye (new) is quite amazing. It's interesting that I'm being given this little opportunity to have direct, immediate appreciation for my eye sight. If I had both eyes done at the same time (I actually wish this could have been the case, to get it over with all at once, but because of my overlying inflammation issues the doctor wanted to do them one at a time) I would have definitely noticed a difference, but I wouldn't be able to switch back and forth between old-eye and new-eye.

The ability to switch back and forth is quite strange. I knew my eye sight was failing, that the cataracts were taking hold before the doctor told me so. I was seeing fuzzy flair around bright lights at night. Things took on a quality I can only describe as reminiscent of the way Cybill Shephard was filmed in the show "Moonlighting", with a slightly soft focus to enhance her soft features. It's not quite blurry, just soft focus. Like a picture in a Hallmark card. Pretty in certain situations, but pretty impractical for ordinary life.

I was told cataracts, when developing naturally, can take years to really set in. That's often why they are only seen on older folk. When they are being caused by something like steroid eye drops (like mine), they move pretty fast. I was definitely noticing the rapid degradation.

Not to be all dramatic or anything. It's just interesting to get an instant side-by-side, a before-and-after simply by blinking my eyes back and forth. It's so strange. It looks like a smoker has been living a reclusive lifestyle inside my right eye for years. The left eye looks so, so clean. It's still a little blurry, but the difference is so stark. I was looking at some of the art work I've been working on, one in particular I was really starting to fear the paper was yellowing badly. I couldn't believe how fast it took for the paper to yellow as much as it appeared. Then I switch to the new-eye and it the old yellowed paper turns stark white. This is especially noticeable in the bathroom. It looks normal enough out of the right (old) eye, then I switch to the left and the toilet and sink look WHITE. It looks like everything in the whole world has been scrubbed and polished to a high shine.

All in all, I'm still not looking forward to the right-eye surgery, but getting my full eye sight back is going to be amazing.