Annual difficulty

We also have an election tonight. I, for one, have been nervous about the state of America. Both major parties are too far left or too far right. Excessive anger abounds, with people hating each other over a political belief. That was usually reserved for religion. The world is changing in ways I fear.

I am also near an anniversary. An anniversary of a traumatic event in life that reactivates thoughts and feelings from the actual event. Each November, I experience peaks of anxiety and depression. I remember events clearly and feel emotions more intensely than during the actual event. While I know reliving the sadness is a very natural part of a healing process, it has been over two decades, and I realize there is no one right way to heal, or maybe I will never recover.

I keep trying to find healthy ways to cope with stress and distress. Writing is one way that helps, so I have been writing more using another source. I do not share memories and feelings with someone I trust, which I hear would help. While I know activities that allow my mind to focus on something other than these memories are a good coping strategy, that has been my employment. The stress from work is excessive; it only makes the frequent chest pains more challenging to handle. Stress for ma also results in impulsive eating and weight gain. I am now at the heaviest I have ever been in my life. I feel trapped. I sleep an average of 4 hours a night and average near well over 60 hours per week at work. Below are typical sleep patterns from my sleep monitor software.

I try contemplative activities like reading, thinking, or walking, which is also the right approach. Walking is painful, so that is an issue. I am fortunate I do not drink or use drugs, which is the choice for many. I will do a water workout, as exercise is the best way to get through November. I know this, but too tired and sore to get going. I need to find strength. I need to get through the next six weeks. I fear that it will be hard. However, I have always been told that fear is a useless emotion. I need to focus on that fact!

Carry on, my friends, carry on...

Skip this post!

Hit the back button and move on to a more inspiring post. I am writing this to vent and complain, and I will use this as a place to SCREAM and hopefully feel better.

I have little to complain about when I look at how well I am doing compared to others. My friend Richard Chrz was diagnosed with (SLE) Systemic Lupus Erythematosus in July 2010, with an additional diagnosis of (NPSLE) Neuropsychiatric Systemic Lupus Erythematosus in Feb 2011. His life has changed immensely because of Lupus. Before his diagnosis, he ran 50 and 100-mile trail races. Now he experiences extreme pain to stand, walk, sit, or even lie down-there is no place of comfort. He continues onward with a positive attitude as he has numerous infusions and treatments yet still lives with a positive attitude every day. 

Then I think of Jordan Schmidt. Schmidt is from Ramsey, Minnesota, and has been running since his early teens. He fully identifies himself as a runner, finding it the keystone to balance the rest of his life. No matter how much it may be a part of Schmidt's life, running will always be a challenge... mainly such strenuous marathons. Diagnosed with asthma as an infant, he managed to control that while remaining active, only to discover in his teen years that there was an inoperable tumor in his brain. So, at the young age of 20, Schmidt does not identify himself as someone with asthma or someone with health issues. He views himself as a runner. He states there's no other option for him, so he is not going to let the tumor and asthma run his life. 

With that, I will continue to fight and drudge through this health issue and grow old.

Both of these inspiring humans have battled health issues much longer than I, and their diagnosis is a far more significant challenge than I face. I get frustrated with everything in my life. I am exhausted; just trying to get through the day! I am so tired of internal bleeding and the pain. It is driving me crazy. It wakes me at night, and I have been sleeping about 4 hours a night while I wake and, at times, drop a tear in pain. Just so hard to deal with the issue, and seems I will never cease being anemic. 

I spend so much emotional energy just hiding the pain and difficulties all around me that when the day ends, I am mentally drained. Of course, it does not help that I feel that my job is sucking the life out of my soul. I still spend 55-60 hours a week, giving it my all to be the best I can be in the position. In the first six months, I logged 1,603 hours, and no, I do not get overtime. Recall the typical full-time employee who works 2,080 hours, which is reduced to about 1,920 hours during vacations and holidays. I expect to reach 3,000 hours. I am proud of working regular hours and do not care if we do not get things done. 

I was also told by my physician, whom I regularly see as I have immense chest pains. He made it clear that I need to reduce my stress. I have very high stress levels. I looked at early retirement, but that is not financially an option right now. I need to wait about four more years, and then I can retire (age 60). Even then, I should be financially secure in retirement, yet I must be VERY frugal. It would be best if I held out to 62 or 63, but in my job, I believe it will kill me if I try to make it the long.

So many times a day, I want to scream right now to "grab myself from the bootstraps" and pull my rear end off the ground.

As soon as I wrote that quote, I thought, what does that mean? During a web search, I found that the origin of "grab myself from the bootstraps" isn't unknown. Much speculation! It refers to boots and the straps that some shoes have attached to help the wearer pull them on and to the imagined feat of lifting oneself off the ground by pulling on one's bootstraps. This impossible task exemplifies the achievement of getting out of a problematic situation through one's efforts. It was known by the early 20th century. James Joyce alluded to it in Ulysses, 1922: "There were others who had forced their way to the top from the lowest rung by the aid of their bootstraps." 

More explicit use of the phrase comes a little later, from Kunitz & Haycraft's British Authors of the 19th Century: "A poet who lifted himself by his bootstraps from an obscure versifier to the ranks of real poetry." Some early computers used bootstrapping, which alludes to this phrase. This involved loading a small amount of code, which was then used to load more complex code progressively until the machine was ready. This led to using the term 'booting' to start a computer. I digress!

I also have been saddened (selfishly so) yet so happy for my son. He has become so independent and self-sufficient. He travels well over 250 days a year. He has a girlfriend who I think is an outstanding person, just a GEM, and I hope he realizes how special she is to him! With this independence, he will come for an occasional weekend (three days), and about 2/3rd the time, he is working or sleeping. Then he has activities he enjoys; I am happy he visits his grandparents, and I typically spend 3 to 4 hours with him the entire three days. While I may desire more, I am delighted he has his time occupied as I was concerned if I do not overcome these health issues and pass away, I know he is well prepared for life without me. That is a good feeling.  

Then my girlfriend. She had to put her mother, who has Alzheimer's, into a home. Her father is aging and has many challenges. She has to be the guardian, providing so much care and concern for her parents. They live 300 miles away and travel often. She has also never experienced death, and when it is time for her parents to go, she will be at rock bottom. I need to be strong for her! I do not talk about my health issues with her. I use the little energy I have to keep positive and hide the pain.

At the same time, she now has two granddaughters and a grandson on the way. They draw her away often. Whenever we plan something, something comes up. She has a dog, a golden retriever, that is demanding and spoiled. I must spend a lot of time caring for the dog as she is busy. Her job is becoming highly challenging and stressful for her, as well. Even though we live together, we are lucky to spend a few hours a week together when she is stressed about aging, her parents, and the demands of life. I spend more time caring for her dog than with her.

Overall, I have really accomplished so much in my life. I am at the point of feeling content in life, only sick of bloody stool, infusions, and pain. Not sure it can get more fulfilling,

I heard a Jason Aldean song, and when I hear the chorus, part of it rings intensely:

Found love, I thought I would never find

Sometimes, I cannot believe this life is mine

And I am not planning on leaving yet

But the truth is, you just never know

And if this is as good as it gets

Man, I think I am good to go

I am good to go

With that, I will continue to fight and drudge through this health issue, grow old, and try to live, which gets more complex every day!

Carry on, my friends, carry on...

Empathy?

In 2014, I wrote about five people over 50 who committed suicide within a short period.  It's so difficult to comprehend that it was over three years ago!  Two of those I knew well, two were acquaintances, and one was famous.  All were in a state of financial independence, and few life issues were there, yet they ended their time on earth?  These past few days, I heard of three others I assume would be on top of the world with little fear or concern over a livelihood.  Kate Spade, Anthony Bourdain and Ines Zorreguieta.

Yesterday, I read a New York Times article that stated, "In 2016, there were more than twice as many suicides as homicides." Why?  I will never know, and we can't ask the deceased.  It is not like I am surprised; I almost can empathize.  As we age, we can't do what we like to do anymore.  We have worn bodies and souls.  The people we cherish have often moved on, and we have become second nature.  We are losing loved ones around us regularly.

I think back to one instance where a father to two girls committed suicide.  His wife of about 20 years was asking for a divorce.  From what I was told, deep into college, his girls were distant.  I knew he had called one girl the night before, but she purposely ignored the call and let it go to voice mail.  The next day, she got the call no one should have received.  Could she have saved him?  Who knows if she would have only taken the call and reminded him he was essential and she loved him.  Often, people attribute these actions to stress or compounding life's troubles.

While I am not at the point where I am stress-free, I am at an all-time high for stress.  We are busier than ever at work and have 20 percent less staff than in 2007 before the crash.  I work, on average, 55-60 hours a week.  We recently had two millennial employees go on paternity leave for several weeks, which resulted in working every day for 32 days and an average of 8.6 hours a day.  It might not seem like much, but that was 32 days straight.

During that stretch, I had little time to think about how miserable I may feel about aging or other issues that I assume drive others to suicide.  I get thoughts of it when I am not working on something every second.  "Why am I here" or "Who would even care if I was gone." However, this causes my mind to race, and sleep is minimal - an average of about 4.5 hours a night.  If I was not always on the move, would I think about things that are depressing and probable factors in the actions taken by many?

It also has another impact.  I went to the Heart Specialist a few weeks ago, and he made it clear I will not be here in the next few years unless I get a handle on my stress.  We have discussed actions that need to be taken, and the sad part is that I am not sure I care.  I am not suicidal, yet I am content with my life.  Many mistakes haunt me, yet there have been rewards.  I continue to make more mistakes as we age; we are not as vibrant as when we were young.

This also has to do with body weight.  The Doctor is clear that my high stress and low sleep drop my metabolism so small that even though I eat very healthily and monitor all intake, including vitamins and minerals, I will gain weight.  Often, I feel like I gain weight when I eat an apple or a banana.  Looking back, I remember being in my best athletic shape when I had little stress and slept well.  There is a correlation.

Anyway, what is the purpose of this post?  It is that I am troubled.  I am troubled as I think I understand the actions of those who ended their life.  That is scary, and it is sometimes better to write about fears to help work through them.  That is what this post is about, to remind me quitting is not suitable for anyone, but I need to stop some things to reduce my stress, or I will be committing suicide in a less than publicized way, naturally through stress destroying the heart, body, and soul.

Carry on, my friends, carry on.

Odor - mental health trigger?

Winter has been gone for a while, and spring has arrived with a vengeance, blasting us with the gentle, warming sun.  Though I don’t enjoy all the summer duties, I look forward to shoveling the driveway in the inhospitable conditions.  Along with spring comes a scent that can instantly transport me back in time, some good, some bad.

Complex emotions and memories can be triggered by a simple sensory cue: the smell of spring air, a farm, or even rain.  I find smells trigger such strong emotions and memories.  I researched this, as my mental health can be altered/triggered by smells.

What was interesting was how this impacted brain anatomy.  Incoming smells are first processed by what is called the olfactory bulb.  I read it starts inside the nose and runs along the bottom of the brain.  The olfactory bulb has direct connections to the amygdala and hippocampus.  Interestingly, visual, auditory (sound), and tactile (touch) information do not pass through these brain areas.  This may be why olfaction successfully triggers emotions and memories more than any other sense.

I read several studies that demonstrated smells trigger more vivid emotional memories and are better at inducing a memory.  Several scientists also found that memories evoked by odors were linked to more brain activity in areas associated with visual vividness.  Smells can also be potent triggers of negative emotions, particularly in individuals with posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

I grew up on a farm, and we produced most of our food.  I have some very harsh memories that impact me mentally.  I once cooked grass-fed meat and was emotionally ill eating it.  I put the steak up to my mouth and smelled the same smell of the beef from when I was a kid.  I started to feel challenged, not in a good way mentally.

I recalled running with a Vietnam veteran who had issues with the smell of diesel when I was younger.  He explained that it brought back intensely some war memories, feelings of guilt and helplessness.  He could vividly see the burning vehicle, doors ajar, and billows of fire and smoke in his mind.  When he told me that detail, I thought little about it, yet now I understand the impact as I note some emotional issues from smells.

The more I talk about this, the more people tend to agree.  Some say that relationship attraction is more about appearance and aroma, which have much to do with a relationship.  A friend said that when his girlfriend changed perfumes, he had a lower sense of desire.  He also noted that perfume on other women did not have the same aroma as bogies, which can change the scent.

I have started recognizing the smells resulting in anger, helplessness, and similar issues.  I need to start documenting to find calming scents that increase happiness.   Once anyone can master the smells that are benefits or hindrances in life, we will have a much better experience.

Before I close, here is a minor health update.  I have been taken off blood thinners but still have significant anemia issues.  I have an infusion regularly, and I am supposed to take omeprazole, but with all the adverse side effects, I limit the use.  I watch the diet, hoping it will yield a better result.  I do have another heart scan scheduled and assume it is okay.  Time will tell.

At work, I am getting killed.  The past two weeks have been nearly 70 hours a week, and there appear to be another few weeks.  Half the staff is out on paternity leave!  We are still 20% lower in staff numbers than in 2006.  We would like one more human when all other departments are at that level or higher.  Ouch!!!!  Then people get mad when there is no one to help them promptly, as in my government position, it is their tax dollars, and they think I am a slacker when it takes a day to get back to them.  As of this morning, while I sit in a clinic waiting for a medical procedure to be completed, I am over 150 work e-mails behind.  I triaged them but still have not replied to some that came in 5 days ago — unfortunate but true situation.  I need to retire, but that is still 3-5 years away.

Carry on, my friends, carry on…

First ride to work.

I got on a bicycle on Saturday (six days ago) and rode 20.16 miles. It was a nice ride, yet my backside was feeling the pain. I tried to ride on Sunday and made four miles before I quit. My bottom needs some seat conditioning!

I looked forward to finding this week, but the weather was COLD.  With the wind chill, it was below 20 degrees.  Lord knows I gained enough padding to be warm, but that is untrue.  On Wednesday, it was around freezing, so I decided to ride.  I was able to keep a solid pace, even though I needed to use care for possible Ice.  It was 17 miles in just under an hour.  There were two locations where Ice was an issue and one mud hole!

The ride home was difficult.  There was a slight wind, and I was tired.  I struggled as this was only the fourth ride of the year.  I was able to keep close to 17 MPH for the ride home.  So, it was 34 miles for the day, and I was feeling good.  On Thursday, it was 24 degrees and felt like 10.  I am beginning to wonder if the winter will end!

I am anxious to ride more.  That is a good feeling!

Carry on, my friends...

SLOW progress and I hate my job

I thought in February, things would be better, health-wise.  I had full scans, and the Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) and Pulmonary Embolisms were gone.  I dropped blood thinners.  Within a few weeks, my right leg had debilitating pain. It was DVT and back on thinners. SUCKS. I also have a full heart scan again soon, as that is a concern. 

My iron has been stable. It helps to eat a Tofu/rice meal with four tablespoons of organic Blackstrap Molasses each day. I'm getting sick of it, but the combination is very high in iron!

I have been looking forward to getting out on my bicycle this year. The weather has been cold and terrible. I remember the last time I needed to wait well into April before I could ride. In February 2017, I rode over 50 miles; in March 2017, I rode 110 miles; and in April, well over 200 miles. This year, I will have to wait until the middle of April before I get much riding weather. Bummer!

Besides my health staying the same, the weather being uncooperative, and work being painful, Work is a massive part of my life. I once totally loved my job and thought of it as something positive. Now I feel completely trapped in a job! The result is that life could be more rosy. Working a disliked job significantly impacts my health, outlook, and attitude. I have to remain positive. Even though, at times, I feel like I am in a soul-sucking nightmare, I must try to get something out of it. What can I gain?

Well, one benefit is my ability to tolerate stupidity and greed is better!   My daily job duties make me groan and sigh uncontrollably. So many people drive me so insane that I am one snide remark away from flipping over the conference room table. Of all the things I hate about my current position, I try to remember that those pesky annoyances and cringe-worthy moments are helping me master the critical trait of tolerance. I know there's no such thing as a "perfect job." I am getting remarkably close to that elusive position, RETIREMENT. So, my refined patience and tolerance will come in handy—even when I finally break free from this terrible job. 

There's a lot to be said for a solid sense of commitment. Moreover, when I boil it down, who's more committed than someone who manages to show up to the office day in and day out, even though he knows he's in for eight to ten hours of pure misery? Very few. However, I am committed. I have a job to do and will do well, which is called pride and loyalty. However, the important thing is that I am still showing up and doing my best work without letting my negative emotions creep in and bring me down. Trust me, dedication is a quality that any employer should admire. However, this is a new generation, and most employers see everyone as expendable if the greed (shareholders) is not satisfied.

I firmly believe that you learn something new every day, even if that "something new" is something I hate. This detested job is a chance to piece together what I want (and, OK, don't want) in my next position. Misery is an influential teacher. My current situation is far from ideal—sometimes, it takes the pain to get to the retirement position I would enjoy. However, at the very least, I remember that I am learning a lot about what I should avoid. Moreover, that information will undoubtedly be helpful as I move toward retirement. 

I get it. Putting up with the job may kill me before I retire, but it is the best route to a stable retirement. The situation is downright intolerable at times. However, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I am getting something out of this position. Even death is something.

Carry on, my friends, carry on.

Is there an answer?

I concluded one of the most emotional and difficult healthcare decisions many people will ever face is telling someone of their health issues.  This is worse if the problem is terminal?  I have met many people along the health battle and treatment path.  While I have not improved or declined in months, medically, I am struggling significantly with significant pain.  It is almost debilitating, and it is tough to walk.  It is even difficult to get up from a chair.  However, I often fake it, as I do not want sympathy or worry from those around me.  My general numbers have improved, yet I do not feel better.  

Today, during my treatment, I again spoke with terminally ill people I have formed friendships with over the past few months.   They casually sat in the room and talked about life.  I sat and let the medicine flow and listened.

The discussion today was whether terminally ill patients (or very ill patients) should share the prognosis with others?  What caught me off guard was that three terminal patients made statements that made me think about this more intensely.  One said they did not tell the family as they could do nothing and wanted to save them non-productive worry.  Another said their spouse knows, but kids and co-workers do not.  The third said she informed most people and wishes she was less open.  They all agree grim news can be beneficial and help others prepare for their departure from Earth, yet for some, the truth can be devastating.  Yet, it can work both ways.  What if the person was never told and has more incredible difficulty?  Such a balance, and I do not know how to stay on the rope.

Many of you (at least those of us over 50) followed Dear Abby?  She once had a song I enjoyed about her, I like John Prine.  She is the advice columnist Abigail Van Buren.  She was ravaged by Alzheimer's disease, yet her family decided not to tell her about the diagnosis.  "Dear Abby," born Pauline Phillips, died at the age of 94, and her son, Eddie, believed that she instinctively knew she was dying despite the family's silence. 

I once read about Allen Ball, a realtor from Colombia, South Carolina, who tried to convince his feisty 94-year-old mom, who had an aggressive brain tumor, that she was getting better, replied: "Well, I certainly don't feel better, so you'd better prepare yourself!"

It made me think about how important it is to keep others informed when there is nothing they can do to help.  Is there really a benefit?  Sympathy does not heal, nor do they need excessive worry when there is nothing they can do to help.  The only benefit is to spend more time before a loved one passes, but if they really thought they had to do that, then why did they avoid spending time before they were ill.  Life is busy, that is why.

Yet, I believe the loved ones of a terminally ill person need to know.  This allows preparation for their passing by getting their affairs in order.  They may want to record messages to family members or talk with a clergy member about spiritual matters, including what happens to them.

There is no correct answer.  What you say or don't say depends on the individual and the situation.  I never cease to marvel at terminal cancer patients who, even at a young age, talk frankly about dying and express their feelings to loved ones.  If this can be accomplished, it's the healthiest way to go.  Yet the people I met today were all over 60.  They seemed content to let life continue and did not want others to be concerned.

So today, I left treatment without a bit of improvement and a great deal of mental confusion.  I am not disclosing the severity of the issues to loved ones, as I am confident I will conquer the problems.  Today made me doubt myself and ask, what if I do not beat it?  Should I discuss this with them?  I just do not know and am not sure whatever I do will be the right solution.

Carry on, my friends, carry on.

Trying, One step up and two back?

I tried!  Really, I tried.

I failed!  I really failed.

I started working out to help improve my health issues.  It was not excessive, just three days a week with elliptical or indoor cycling.  It was challenging but refreshing, although I felt increasingly fatigued.  I went to the physician, who sent me to another physician, who sent me back to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist who performed my surgery about six years ago.  He evaluated me, and I learned more than I wanted to know.

What I learned was an untreated sinus infection can lead to bronchitis, worsening of asthma, and chronic cough.  Oh, so that’s why I feel bad?  He explained that continued contamination leads to nasal membrane swelling, obstruction, and mouth breathing.  Nasal congestion can cause snoring and lead to sleep apnea as well.  OK, I know that is happening.

The acute sinusitis I failed to treat created a low-grade chronic infection.  The presence of nasal polyps makes treatment of sinusitis difficult.

Here is the real bummer.  My sinuses have made me miserable.  Pressure, pain, drainage, and difficulty breathing have been issues.  I now learned that this is also a possible issue with my stomach pains.  As my sinus pressure impacted blood circulation to my eyes, I have sudden, patchy, blurred vision and blindness.  My sinus infection has spread into the bloodstream, affecting the brain and eyes.

My respiratory system was already weakened from the Pulmonary Embolisms.  As excess mucus is produced, and there’s a lot of it, it drains.  This excess mucous irritated my digestive system.  Nausea and loose stools follow.

I know, it’s TMI.  I know I need to grab hold of my bootstraps, find courage, and make progress.  Am I a mouse of a man?

I need to recall my tennis wisdom.  In tennis, losing one point isn’t the end of the world.  It happens to the best of us.  If I can consistently win a few more points that I lose, I will succeed.  I will be ahead of the game with healthy eating and exercising if I consistently out-stepped my steps back.  If I expect perfection (and many of us do), I am setting myself up for disappointment and guilt.  With the medical issues, I do not need that to develop.

Carry on, my friends, carry on!

Why am I alive with a long road ahead!

I will never forget July 7, 2017, like it was yesterday.  It was the day I should have died.  It was a Friday.  I went to work early after being out of the office for nearly two weeks.  I had to go to the second floor that day, I climbed the flight of stairs, and when I reached the top, I thought, "I think I'm going to faint." I continued having issues throughout the day.  I had significant stiffness in my calf 18 months before and occasionally since.  The two weeks before July 7, I complained of stiffness in my calf.  One week before, I was almost unable to walk because of the extreme calf pain.  I did some deep massage with the massager.  I drove home that night and complained I was dizzy and felt terrible.  I was wheezing and had great trouble breathing.  I was in a cold sweat on the couch.

I went to urgent care, where they refused to treat me.  Instead, I was whisked to the ER.  As previously reported, as soon as I arrived, I was pushed to the front of the line and got an EKG, ultrasound, and a CT that showed I had numerous blood clots in my legs and lungs.

I think "it won't happen to me" for so many issues than it happened to me.  It should have killed me.  The Doctor even said it should have killed me.  Doctors are puzzled as to how I survived with that many clots in my lungs.

Because I waited so long, I may have a pulmonary infarct (a portion of my lung is dead because it lost too much oxygen).  I still experience pain and may struggle for the rest of my life, managing with blood thinners.  If I get in an accident, I could bleed out, or if I get hit in the head, I could have a brain bleed.  These are all the things I worry about daily.  July 7, 2017 (or the 8th when reality set in) will always be hard for me.  I will never forget it as the day I should have died. 

"Every year, more people die from preventable blood clots than from breast cancer, AIDS, and traffic accidents combined," said Dr. Samuel Goldhaber, Chairman of the Venous Disease Coalition.  "It is so important to raise awareness about DVT and PE because although blood clots are common, few Americans have sufficient knowledge about blood clots and how to prevent them." The most recent statistics show that 1 person dies every 6 minutes in the United States from blood clots. 

The Vascular Disease Foundation urges Americans to learn about the risks of venous blood clots to help prevent these deaths.   DVT occurs when a blood clot forms in the deep veins, usually of the pelvis or leg.  DVT can be dangerous in two ways.

First, DVT can be fatal if a blood clot breaks free from the leg veins, travels through the heart, and lodges in the lung arteries.  This complication, called pulmonary embolism (PE), causes between 100,000 and 180,000 deaths per year in the United States.

Second, because blood clots can permanently damage the veins, as many as half of DVT survivors can experience long-term leg pain, heaviness, and swelling that can progress to difficulty in walking, changes in skin color, and open leg sores (known as ulcers).  This condition, called post-thrombotic syndrome (PTS) or "chronic venous insufficiency," can significantly impair quality of life.

So, besides living with the constant thought of "why did God let me live," I have had significant pain in walking.  It is so hard, at times, to move the legs.  I am holding out hope there are no long-term issues, yet getting less and less confident.  I can only take this one step at a time.  Moreover, each step is getting more challenging, so it seems!

Some good news is that I got my Bionx D500 wheel rebuilt.  That should significantly decrease my concerns over the summer riding season.  I had broken well over nine spokes last summer, and the lacing was unreliable.  Relaxing the wheel is exceptionally hard due to the motor.  Factory lacing should be stable.

I am looking forward to getting on the bike and biking to work.  I felt better When I could do that in August and September.

On another good note, my son recently purchased a condo in a great location - Breckenridge, CO. This year, I will take two or three one-week trips to get away and try to relax.  While I assume he would not ask me to pay for the stays, I will spend like it is a low-cost hotel, which he welcomes as he is rarely home Monday through Thursday, and I can afford to get away.  It is far from an inexpensive hotel, but it is one of the best in the city!  The views are great, biking is incredible, there are slightly sloped paths, and the town is open during the summer.

Until next time,  Carryon, my friends, carry on.