Author: anthony Page 37 of 72

A few days ago, I decided to dismantle an old and broken DVD/VHS player.  I thought I might be able to salvage the circuit board in there for another project and set to work with a screwdriver.

I had a doctor’s appointment this morning for my elbow and while he was pleased with my progress, he thinks I need to give the rack and physical therapy more time.

3 months more time.

If I don’t improve by 30 degrees of motion (which is what I’m lacking now), then he would consider surgery. If I can get 15-20, but stop there, then surgery may not help much.

I was disappointed, but resigned to another 3 months on that accursed torture device and the once-a-week physical therapy.

After the appointment, I had a session with a different physical therapist than I’d had in the past. She was surprised at how much extra motion I got after she used a heating pad on my arm.

“Let’s try something,” she said, and proceeded to go after my arm like a squid trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. Poked, prodded, twisted – and that was just the warm-up.

The therapist was apologetic at the pain she was causing – while also delighted at the progress.  She claimed to love elbows and loved a good challenge.

When she was done, I had nearly a full range of very painful – but encouraging – motion. It didn’t last, but it was promising.

She let me rest for a few minutes (and quietly dry my tears) before it was time for paperwork and departure. She promised to get the notes on what she worked on to my regular therapist and suggested I put ice on my arm right away as what she had done had caused some inflammation.

I stopped at home to get a cold pack and then on into work.

So, 3 months of the rack – but maybe less if the new physical therapy techniques can help. I’m willing to endure quite a lot of pain in the short term if we can avoid 3 months of the rack and possible surgery.

The “Monday lunchtime trip to the pool” conversation between my co-worker and I is usually about what we did over the weekend. Sounds a little grade-school when you say it like that, but it’s usually interesting. This time, my co-worker said that he had gone to a folk music concert and was surprised at how much he enjoyed it. Not enough to go out and buy folk albums, but enjoyable live.

It got me thinking about watching baseball. On TV, well, I’d almost rather watch golf – or watch paint dry – but in person, a baseball game can be a lot of fun.

What is it about the recorded version of these things – folk music and baseball – that detracted so much from the live version?

My theory is that the live versions allow us to be our own editors, instead of relying on someone else to filter the event and distill what they think is important.

When there’s a pause in a baseball game on TV, it gets filled with a commercial. When there’s a pause in an in-person game, there are people to watch and mascots to mock. There’s the 7th inning physical stretch and “beer heeeeeeeeere”. In the pause, there are things other than baseball – but maybe not any less engaging.

A live folk show has atmosphere and the sense of a unique moment. A recording – even a “live” recording – misses something special about the people around us and how we perceive  them.  There’s something in being present that adds to the experience.

From this, it would seem that a recording would always pale before a live event – but if the fault is in the editing then the right editor could improve on reality.

I went to a photography show this past weekend and the exhibit had photos of places I had almost surely driven past, but disregarded.

The photographer had captured something else – and sense of cheer in some cases, but mostly bleakness. Something I would have missed with my own filters applied as I drove past these places in the “live” view.  Being present in the real world didn’t automatically make me a better editor.

Every moment of our waking lives our brains are furiously editing out massive amounts of information from our senses – things that our internal editor decides we don’t need to remember or even consciously think about.

So, maybe the key to getting more out of our lives and our experiences is to try and be better editors and be more aware of our filters.

It seemed a little deeper and more profound earlier today, but there’s still maybe something useful here.

As I got in my car today after work, I fired up the Great Clips app and used their online check-in option. Once checked in, I started my car and headed out to get my haircut.

I pulled into the parking lot and went in and up to the counter. The man in front of me was told their would be a wait – which was odd since there was only one person in the waiting area. He couldn’t wait and left – and I stepped up to the counter and checked in formally. I sat down and in a few moments – not even enough time to fold a crane – I was called up.

Ahead of the woman that had been waiting when I walked in. I realized that I was the “wait” that drove the man away.

By checking in online, I had jumped the physical line. Which is the whole point of the app – I suppose. That, and gathering some degree of data about me and my habits and travel for some wacky marketing scheme.

I got my haircut, paid, and was on my way in short order.

My next stop was Chipotle. I hadn’t ordered ahead and stood in line for nearly 1/2 an hour. When I got up to the front, I had to wait further as they made a burrito for someone that had called in their order ahead of time. Those folks jumped the line ahead of me and I had to wait – on people that weren’t there yet and who hadn’t stood in line.

The app for Great Clips seemed like a…well, great… idea. Check-in, head out, no line when I arrive, haircut and gone.

It seemed less of a great idea when the reverse happened and I was stuck in line for what turned out to be a not-great burrito.

The problem in both of these cases is that there are two ways to approach the same resource: the pre-order and the stand in line. If everyone pre-ordered, there would be no line. If everyone stood in line, there would be no line jumping – well, at least not any “legal” line-jumping. The mix, though, rewards the planners and punishes the spontaneous.

I have seen some Chipotle’s that segment off the pre-order and have a separate line and crew for that function. When they aren’t busy, that second crew does other tasks around the restaurant. Not sure how that would work at Great Clips without a lot of costly idle time.

What disappoints me is that technology is creating artificial and temporary class systems. And those are rarely good.

I resented the call-aheads at Chipotle and I’m pretty sure the woman in the waiting room at Great Clips wasn’t happy at my legal line jump – but short of redundant crews, I’m not sure how to fix the problem.

Food for thought as I ate my “just-okay” burrito…

I got another random bill recently. This was for the day of the surgery and covered the surgery room – but not the surgeon – and the anesthesiologist room – but not the actual dude. It covered some, but not all, of the drugs used to knock my ass out and some – but not all – of the supplies. The surgery was after the emergency room visit – which I’ve already been billed for (room, supplies, x-ray, and doctor all billed separately – naturally) but before the follow up visits and physical therapy, which I’ve already been billed also.

The total charges amounted to over 13,000 dollars – but the insurance company said, “nope, we’re only going to pay 1300 and Anthony is going to pay 300. Suck it.”

I’m rounding because the actual numbers don’t really matter to the point, which is “How in the world does that work?!”

If I didn’t have insurance, what would be my amount to pay? 13,000? 1300?1600? It’s like some kind of game show where you have to guess the actual amount of the good or service – without going over (because good luck getting a refund) or under (because they’ll turn you over to collections or put your ass in debtor prison.)

Or going in to pick up a pizza and when they give you the total of $13.00 and someone else walks up and says, “Nope. Anthony and his job have been paying me pizza money for a while now. I’m going to pay 6 dollars and Anthony is going to pay 2 dollars. Now give him his 8 dollar pizza and shut the hell up.”

Of course, to make that situation more accurate, we’d get a separate bill for the 2 liter of soda and we’d get charged for the napkins and the pizza box.

Which is ridiculous.

So, another check in the mail…

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I added the google tracking code to my website and my blog. Not entirely sure why – I mean, it’s not like I’m selling anything here – but it seemed like a good exercise since we use it at work. Interesting tools, but I wish Google would settle down and quit changing the interface so much. I can never find anything in there – getting tired of learning and relearning everything there.

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This weekend, I got outside and did some yard work. Pulled down some dead vines, raked leaves, and did a little trimming. It felt good to be outside and the sunshine was… simply wonderful.

I had a couple of tasks the other evening – paying bills and folding flowers.

The bills were expected – medical bills, car payment, and mortgage.

The flowers were an unexpected project – for a friend who’s mother had just passed away. I knew her mom, a little, but by the time I got to meet her she was already starting to… fade. And when we lost her, I made flowers. It’s kinda what I do.

For everything, there’s a little bit of paper to be folded and for funerals – it’s lilies.

They turned out well: http://thunderofwade.tumblr.com/post/115903452699/origami-lilies

but even as much as I enjoy making these for people – and bringing maybe a little bit of joy to a sad time – I always remember all the others that I’ve made lilies for.

So, I folded and paid my bills. And as I got the stamps ready to go, I noted on them the word “forever”.

How strange that a sticky piece of paper can be something “forever” and the important people in our lives are so much shorter than that. Seems unfair.

The calling hours were today and I got to give my flowers away. They bought a smile – as they were intended to do – and will maybe bring some comfort in the days to come.

The fresh cut flowers at the funeral home won’t last more than a few days. My lilies will last much longer, but even paper doesn’t last forever.

What does last are our memories of the people that pass in and out of our lives. And those memories will bring smiles in the sad times – as they are intended to do.

My 9-5 (or rather, my 7-4) consists of working with websites. And some of those are…cluttered. It seems like sometimes the question is – “How much can be shoved onto this site at once?”

And while I can’t always simplify those sites, I do have complete control over my own site. Over the past few days – and much of that was this weekend – I tidied up my site and simplified it. The homepage is stark, the links are unstyled and straight-forward, and the images are reduced. It’s quite plain at the moment and I like it.

I’ve got some more work to do – updating text and adding in the google analytics code – but it’s very clean at the moment.

http://thunderofwade.com

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Cleaning up my website was much like cleaning out a basement. Some things got tossed – lists of links and jokes that were never very funny. Others got moved elsewhere – mostly the origami over to http://thunderofwade.tumblr.com And some things got saved off-line or to other resources – like that web comic I was so proud of when I first did it and became less proud of over time.

Some of it was good and made me smile – like the old blog entries where I just ranted up a storm.

Some of it made me sad – like the pictures of costumes I had helped Jeff with. I saved those images, but moved them to their own archive.

The most interesting bit were the photos of me. I really don’t like having my photo taken and those are really few and far between. I put all of those on one page and watched as my hair, facial hair, and build changed over time. The photos aren’t in any order and that’s okay – it’s more of a collage instead of a timeline.

Made me a little introspective about where I’ve been and how things are going now. I’m not one to really dwell on the past or the future and much prefer to focus on the present.

And things are good.

My arm is getting better and I’m kicking ass in the pool again. I’m really happy with my house and my cat is the coolest. I like my car and my job and co-workers are interesting and fun. I’ve got a great family and wonderful friends that share my adventures. And a pretty amazing special someone who looks out for me – and who I look out for in turn.

And now it’s time to put my blog and website – and me – to bed for tonight.

Sleep well, internet – I’ll see you tomorrow.

I’ve been very diligent about paying my assorted – and wildly (deliberately) inefficient – medical bills. The notion that some over-zealous random doctor’s office would turn me over to collections makes me anxious and so I’ve been quick to put the checks in the mail.

I’ve also been keeping careful documentation on everything and that includes making a copy of the bill before tearing off the payment section to send in.

I got a bill yesterday and decided to get it in the mail and out of the way that day. It was late in the evening, but I figured I could get a copy made at Staples and then drop the payment in the mail on the way home. I needed to get gas anyway, so it seemed like a quick and productive trip.

I get to staples and head over to the copy area. I had a pocket-full of change with me and figured I would just use the self-serve machine.

Except I forgot that I was living in the era of “let’s make things more complicated for no reason and fix things that aren’t broken”.  So, my coins were no good.

The self-serve machines require a copy card. Which I didn’t have and had no intention of getting. I needed one copy, after all – getting a card seemed like a waste of time.

I head over to the counter and the woman has me wait while she attends to a machine. Which is not a good sign.

When she’s finally ready to deal with the human, I hand her the bill and ask for one copy. And here begins the madness.

1. She picks up a copy card from the counter, inserts it into a reader, and spends a minute or two typing on the register. I’m guessing it was a blog entry on how freaking stupid I was.

2. The card pops out of the reader and she collects it and the bill and goes over to the self service machines.

3. She then inserts the card and makes one copy.

4. The card pops out and she comes back over to the register to reinsert the card and hand me the bill and the copy. She types for a bit, the card pops out, and she announces the total.

11 cents.

I hand her my two dimes and she gives me 9 cents in change and my receipt.

There was the briefest of moments. A pause. A stillness. And in that clarity, the horror of our situation was shared. All that time and effort, all the back and forth, all the sheer waste… it chilled us both.

I took my change, my receipt (which, ironically, used nearly as much paper as my copy), and my papers and I was on my way.

I dropped the bill with payment in the mail on my way home and then filed the copy in with the rest of my bills.

Next time, I’ll either man-up and buy a card – or just wait until Monday and make the copy at work like everyone else does.

So, I’ve got my elbow brace. And it’s miserable. I mean, yeah, it’s working and I can handle the pain that goes with it, but it’s miserable to use.

1. It’s too short. My torso is kinda long and I have to hunch over to rest my arm in the brace. I still haven’t worked out the right base to add to it to get it high enough to not hurt my back.

2. The gauge is on the wrong side so I can’t see it to track my progress – and keep me motivated.

3. The frame is either loose around my arm or digging into my skin enough to leave marks. It just doesn’t fit very well.

And it’s boring. Super intensely over the top boring. And I’m in there for 2 hours a day.

On the bright side, it’s working. At least a little, according to my physical therapist. And, unrelated to the brace, my hand strength is almost back to normal. Along with that, I’ve regained enough arm strength to drag my ass out of the pool without using the ladder.

Before I get on the rack again tonight, I’m going to try some push-ups. At one point, I could do 100 without stopping – but I’m a long way from there. If I can do one, I’ll be pleased.

It’s all just so damn slow…