The Workaday World

     Just like yesterday's entry, I'd like to start this one with housekeeping... but of a different sort.  If you are someone reading this in a country other than the U.S., I would love it if you could post a comment to tell me how you learned of this blog. And, for all of you, if you aren't into commenting, I added a section below each post where you can just click on one of several boxes, which gives me feedback on what you thought of that post.  I did this about a week ago, but had forgotten to mention it.  Thanks for any and all feedback you have given me or will give in the future.

Annoying Chores I Can Finally Do Again, Ranked

1. Sweeping the Floor.  Sweeping is just terrible.  Maybe it's because we have a pug and his hair ends up all over the floor the second he walks past the area I just swept.  Maybe it's due to the fact that one of my chores growing up as a kid was to sweep the house, and the pile would always have  a ton of food bits that my little brothers probably dropped caused me to harbor a life-long loathing for it.  I don't know.  What I do know is that sweeping while dragging 25 feet of oxygen tubing around was a big NO.  The first time I even tried, my cord went through the pile or I couldn't get the pile into the dustpan without the cord becoming a hassle-- something like that.  Whatever-- that was it for me and sweeping for over a year.

Tobi or Not Tobi, That is the Question *

     Being on Tobi, 28 days on, 28 days off, is a familiar routine for most people with cystic fibrosis.  Like the phases of the moon, being on Tobi is part of a natural cycle, but instead of affecting ocean tides, it affects how we feel.  For me, I always felt better when I was on Tobi than when I was in an "off" cycle.  I'm sure some of that was psychological, but the medicine obviously works too.  For a long time, I would not be on any additional medication during the "off" cycle, but in the years before my transplant I would do inhaled Colistan and, once it was approved, Cayston.  But whether it was something scientific or more of a security blanket effect, I still felt best on Tobi.

Graduation Season

Exactly 15 years ago today, I spoke in front of nearly 200 of my fellow graduates, along with their loved ones, as one of four valedictorians of the Caro High School Class of 2000.

Some context and general notes:

• The technology gap between when this was filmed and now limited my ability to get it onto YouTube.  I filmed it with my iPhone as it played on my TV, so I apologize for the quality.

The Game of My Life

     For about seven straight summers, from the day school got out until the day we went back, you could find me and my brothers behind our house playing together every day.  Living in a home on a hill situated along M-24, which is a state highway where cars always fly past at 55 plus miles per hour, we had no front yard options unless they involved counting blue cars that drove by.  But that was fine, because behind our house, we had place that was our own little field of dreams.  "Down the hill."  "Down the hill" meant only one thing to me and my two younger brothers:  baseball.

Pound It

     When my "transplant mentor" Ryan told me about how much weight he gained in the months after his transplant, my first thoughts were a) I hope I am "on his track" when it comes to this, and 2) what will I look like if I am at a healthy weight?  Over two years since he told me about his transformation, I have gone from weighing 111 lbs. to 153 lbs.  It's gotten to the point where my doctor's said I should stop trying to gain weight.  Not that I need to lose any, but, you know, it's a "don't drink high calorie shakes on top of the 2,800 calorie a day diet" situation.  So, my hopes were fulfilled, but what about my question about how I would look?

One for the History Books

     One of the things I've done to help me cope with being away from teaching for over two full years is honing in on experiences I've had that wouldn't have been possible if I were working.  When I went on medial leave in February of 2013, I did not have any guarantees that I would ever go back.  The reality of that set in through a gradual process.  Events at my school that I couldn't be a part of, or traditions that I returned for (like Ham-o-ween, my colleagues' annual fall celebration of pork consumption) reminded me of what I was missing on a day-to-day basis.  So, it helped immensely to recognize and appreciate occasions that couldn't have existed had I been working.  One of the greatest examples of this happened on Friday, when I surprised my favorite high school teacher and popped into one of his final classes before he retires this month.