Extraordinary measures for an extraordinary father

A few days ago, while my dad was being treated at the hospital, we felt it would be appropriate to broach the subject of extraordinary measures. Should things digress to the point of no hope, would my father want us to do everything possible, including the use of machines, to keep him going. He's a proud and strong man, despite his current condition, and, to no-one's surprise, he indicated heroic measures would not be necessary.

Today, minutes before I was to leave home to visit the hospital, my mom called me. She was crying hysterically, and said that I needed to get to the hospital right away. I had been talking with my sister when the phone rang, so when I got back to her, we decided to go together to the hospital. My dad had bled out, and was being kept alive by massive blood transfusions. We rushed to the hospital.

By the time we got there, my dad had been disconnected from the blood supply, but was still alive. The on-duty doctor explained that his bowel was probably ruptured, his blood pressure couldn't be maintained for very long, and he prepared us for the end. There was, he said, a slim possibility of prolonging his life with surgery, but the prognosis was not good. Again, we put the question to my dad about the possibility of surgery, and again, he said he had had enough. As he began to slip away, I placed a call to my sister in Toronto, hoping that somehow, she would be able to get down here in time to say goodbye. We also called the rabbi.

Within a half hour, my dad's blood pressure had dropped to the point where he needed to be transfered from the ward to the ICU. In the ICU, where they are better equipped to deal with such outbreaks, they started a couple of new lines from which they could infuse blood into his system more quickly. The standard veins in his arm had collapsed, as had one lung. Renal function was severly decreased, and oxygen levels were falling to critical levels. Blood pressure was now being reported in grim terms.

The doctors' efforts in the ICU were unbelievable. Within an hour, they had stabilized him to the point where the family could once again come to his side. Except for my sister, who was still making her way in from Toronto, the entire family was at the bedside, including some very close cousins whom we had contacted from the hospital. The ICU doctor gathered the family to discuss options. None were particularly good, although he made it clear there were still options available to us to try to extend my dad's life and give him one last chance at recovery. Being fully aware of my dad's intentions, we initially balked at any heroic measures. We were leaning more toward providing a sedative that would allow my dad slip quietly away in his sleep. But then, we started to think about the options. As described, although they weren't particularly optimistic, the doctors did indicate that if they could determine the cause of the internal bleeding, and if the damaged tissue was relatively localized, there was a chance that his life could be saved. With much help and physical therapy, my dad might once again enjoy a quality of life that would be worth the effort.

Our family approached his bed in the ICU. By now, he had blood being fed from three separate lines, and oxygen was also being administered. We could see the monitors showing a lower than ideal rate for blood pressure, respiration, and pulse. Oxygen levels were all that was acceptable, and that was due to the massive blood transfusions. We explained to my dad what the doctor had told us... that without further treatment, he would be gone by morning; and that with treatment, there were no guarantees. We told him he'd need to be placed on a ventilator soon, to preserve his respiration and reduce the need for the blood, which, while keeping him alive, was complicating the efforts to keep him breathing. We told him that after some tests were run, he might have to have surgery to repair his bowels, or that his bowels may completely die and have to be removed. We told him he might have to use a colostomy bag for the rest of his life. Most of all, we told him that we all loved him, and weren't prepared to say goodbye if there was even a chance that he could be saved.

Finally, it was his choice to make. He looked at us all. And then he said "I want to fight". So now, we have a clear directive. The test will be done. Surgery will be performed if required. He may die tomorrow in the process, but it won't be because he gave up on life, or because we allowed ourselves to give up on him.

A discouraging word

Dad's progress is slipping. I was there for a couple of hours today, but even though he saw me for a minute or two, I doubt he remembers I was there. He was quite lethargic when awake, and awake very little. He didn't seem like his rash had gotten any worse, but then again, when someone appears to be sleeping, rather than struggling to communicate, it's hard to know what's going on inside.

It's quite discouraging at the moment.

Back to Earth

I spent several hours with my dad today. He wasn't the energetic man I expected to see, although he was able to feed himself, lift himself (with some help) from his chair to walk (again, with some help) to the bathroom, and spend more time sitting than lying down. It's an improvement, but according to the doctors, the SJS is still around and will need to be dealt with, and his course of antibiotics began again tonight.

I suppose that, compared to last night, he was still in better shape, but a far cry from what my sister had described to me this morning.

Oh well, I guess it was too good to last.

Boris and Natasha

I am blogging during working hours. Trust me, this post is worth it.

I remember watching Rocky and Bullwinkle as a child. Boris and Natasha were my favourite characters. The line "in with the bad air, out with the good" has always stuck with me. And today it's so apropos. In yesterday's visit to my father, I neglected to mention a couple of things. I didn't leave them out on purpose... they just slipped my mind.

My dad had a bone marrow test yesterday (results still pending), and he had a blood transfusion.

So, just now, I got a call from my sister at the hospital. Unbelievable. It had to be the transfusion. Take some good, clean wholesome blood, feed it to someone with low platelets, blood infection, and possible bone marrow disease, and what do you get? An 84 year old man who wants to get out of bed (for the first time in weeks), stroll around the hospital with a wheeled walker (the regular kind didn't go fast enough for his liking), go to the bathroom like a real man and start joking around like the man we all know he is!

Of course, I've seen this level of recovery before, and I'm not going to allow my spirits to be lifted too high until I see how long-lived this new condition will be. But now, at least, there is hope.

Now, I've got to get back to work.

Oh what fun

My blog uses a style sheet to display it's content, like most other sites on the web. In order to "jazz" the screen up a bit, I use a different colour and font to display my links when someone mouses over them. That's no big deal. But I just read my previous post (the Fantastic Idea) and tried to click on the link embedded in the story. I use IE 6, and 1024 x 768 1280 x 1024 resolution on my computer. When my mouse passed over the link, it changed to it's "mouse-over" font, which is somewhat smaller than when normally displayed. The change in font size was enough to make the link move to a different part of the screen, so that the mouse was no longer hovering over the link. Because of that, I was not able to activate the link! If I tried to "sneak up" on it, I was sometimes able to highlight it and stealthily move to the other part of the screen and re-click on the highlighted link, but most of the time, that darn link became quite illusive.

I wonder if anyone else who uses a different screen resolution has experienced this problem on my blog.

Updated to fix an incorrect statement about my screen settings

What a fantastic idea!

I think every child has done this at some point in their life... created a deck of flash cards with slightly different images, which, when the deck is fanned, appears to be a motion picture.

Some advertising company has used this premise to create "motion picture" advertising inside darkened train tunnels. As the train passes each lit advertising panel, part of the message is delivered, and over the course of the trip, the message unfolds in motion pictures.

Hmm, I wonder how that works when trains are travelling in the opposite direction?

Downhill Racer

Dad's taken a turn for the worse. His SJS is on the upswing, and the doctors are debating what his course of treatment should be. Some say he needs to get back on the steroids (which, in higher doses, had been effective in reducing the symptoms) for an indefinite period. Unfortunately, being on higher doses of steroids for an extended period has undesirable side effects, like mood swings and high blood sugar. Being on steroids would require that insulin injections be administered on an ongoing basis.

Other doctors are suggesting we begin treating him with suppressive drugs... those that suppress the rejection mechanisms of the body, and hopefully eliminating the sensitivity to the drugs that is causing the SJS. This course of therapy might make him more susceptible to infection, since his body would be less likely to fight the foreign body.

Neither course of treatment is particularly appealing, but things are getting pretty desperate. As my dad weakens, he loses his appetite and becomes listless. At times, the fighting spirit that's kept him going for so long seems to get dimmer. He swears he's not going to give up the fight, but it's really tough when everything you hear going on around you is discouraging.

There was one small victory today. He was breathing without aid of oxygen. Unfortunately, he was running a fever for much of the day, so that indicates to me that the infection may again be getting the upper hand.

Surprising turn of events

I suppose if I was a medical professional, I would know these things. Unfortunately, I'm not, so it came as quite a shock today when I visited the hospital and saw my dad with no IV tube. He's had a continuous stream of IVs for hydration and antibiotics, but they had been discontinued as of today. When I asked why, the answer was almost too obvious. It seems there is just as much danger in continuing antibiotic treatments for too long as there is in discontinuing them before you're supposed to. So, for a few days at least, my dad won't be receiving any medication beyond what he would take if he were at home.

He's still on oxygen, and that's good, because his chart indicated his oxygenation had become worse overnight. His blood-sugar is still very high, and it's believed the infection is the cause of that (since the diminishing doses of steroids were discontinued yesterday). The rash has gotten worse since the last time I saw my dad, although his face has totally cleared up. He was supposed to have a bone marrow test today, but the doctor didn't show up, so he'll have that tomorrow instead.

My dad was quite tired this evening, and hadn't eaten much during the day, although he did have a small glass of milk and half an ice-cream cup. Hopefully, his appetite will return tomorrow.

Birthday Dinner - a break from the routine

Spending nights at the hospital has become pretty much routine these days. Today, I'm taking a "selfish" break to have a birthday evening with my wife and family. A leisurely dinner, time in front of the TV, and just doing nothing at all. Sounds really good after the events of the past few weeks.

Happy Birthday to me!

All I want for my birthday are two healthy parents. My mom was in the emergency room yesterday, probably a victim of the high stress we're all undergoing during the current medical crisis with my dad. Thankfully, the pain she's been feeling in her chest is "just" stress, nothing more severe, so she was released from the emergency room without treatment.

Still, it's good to know she'll be OK. My dad seemed to be doing quite well yesterday as well. He had a healthy appetite, and seemed to be getting better on many fronts.

Taking their music seriously

For those of you who play a string instrument, you know how important it is that it be properly tuned. Have any of you wondered what lengths someone might go to to have their instrument tuned to perfection? I'd venture to say if there is a Guiness Record for highest cost, this would be it.

On a lighter note...

Nothing on my mind lately except my father's recovery. So, it was refreshing to scan the internet and see this news story about a sexual deviant who had this reaction to being caught in the act.

Amen.

Roller Coaster Ride

Another day, another symptom. The rash has returned. Whether it's SJS emerging again as the steroid doses are cut back, or whether it's something else (someone suggested septicemia) I don't know. I do know that for most of the day on Friday, my dad seemed weaker than the previous day. He needed to be fed (as opposed to feeding himself). There were a couple of times that he seemed to be "out of it", saying things that didn't seem quite right.

By the end of the day, he was drinking by himself (holding cups without spilling) and eating nearly everything put in front of him (thank goodness he still has an appetite). Today, the plan is to remove the catheter, as this may be a contributing cause of the bladder infection. If the platelet count doesn't improve soon, the doctors will need to check whether the bone marrow has been infected.

Also, the doctor yesterday confirmed that my dad has contracted pneumonia (always a strong possibility when immobilized with infection for long periods). They seem to have that under control, but I wish they had informed me of their fears earlier. I might have taken better care to isolate myself and other family members from possible contamination. Still, despite the pneumonia, his breathing seems to be stable, if not improving.

Anyway, it's time to get to the hospital, so I've got to run for now.

A mixed bag

Today, things are a mixed bag. My dad started the day feeding himself. Yup, he poured his own milk into his own oatmeal, and ate with a spoon! Can you believe that?

But then later, when he was given his standard blood tests, his platelet count was down dramatically, to levels considered quite unsafe. Doctors now think the blood infection may have spread to his bone marrow. These are only preliminary guesses, so I'm going to try to remain positive.

My dad is getting better - slowly

Unbelievable! My dad has such a will to live, I just can't believe it! On Tuesday, I was at the hospital at 2:00PM. I had hoped to leave at 8:00PM, but my dad specifically asked that I stay. He had been coughing terribly - those wet, wheezy, mucousy coughs that signalled some sort of chest infection. And his limbs were bloated with edema. I didn't leave the hospital until 11:00PM, and only then, after ensuring that the nursing staff had set up emergency suction, in case my dad started to choke on his own phlegm.

Imagine my relief when I arrived at 2:00PM Wednesday, to see him breathing without wheezing (though still with an assist from an oxygen feed). I noticed that the only time he choked was when he inadvertently tried to take nutrition through a straw and ended up breathing in the food (rather than sucking it in) through his straw. By evening, he was able to speak a bit more clearly, and tried to give us (my sister and I) a show of his sense of humour.

So, I was able to leave at 8:00PM with a clear conscience, and the knowledge that he will most likely make it through tonight with little discomfort.

How I spent Victoria Day

Victoria day is traditionally celebrated here with fireworks. Unlike the Freedom Festival in July (where Canada and the US celebrate a joint holiday with a large fireworks display), the fireworks on Victoria Day are more subdued and personal. People buy personal fireworks for their back yards and fields, and the sound of cherry bombs (illegal but somehow, readily available) can be heard everywhere. I was hoping the hospital would effectively shield my dad from these sounds, since, in his current condition, they could be interpretted as sounds of war. I had nothing to fear in that regard... the hospital was quite soundproof.

I got there at 2:00PM today, expecting to stay until the end of visiting hours at 6:00PM. Being a holiday, visiting hours were restricted today. When I got there, I was pleasantly surprised to see that my baby sister was there with my mom, and they had been there since 12:30PM. I guess my dad must have enjoyed his massage, because he told my sister about it! When I arrived, I saw her giving him a backrub.

I'm afraid my dad didn't look well on Monday. He often motioned to us to come near, but he was speaking with much difficulty, in the most hushed tones, and we often could not understand what he wanted. He gestured, but even these motions were difficult to decipher. All-in-all it was a frustrating visit. The more we wanted to understand him, and the more we wanted to do for him, the less we understood what he wanted. His breathing was so laboured, at various times he was given a Nitro-spray (a dose under the tongue to help "revive" you), and an oxygen mask. He coughed up so much phlegm, we thought he might have pneumonia; although the doctors didn't think he had actually contracted it.

The doctors did say, however, that the battery of drugs he was receiving left him quite vulnerable to further infection and pneumonia.

My mom and sister left the hospital some time after 7:20PM, and I stayed until 8:00PM. I am posting this some time after 5:00AM on Tuesday morning, and I called the hospital just before writing this post to check with his nurse. She said he survived the night, and is resting comfortably.

Gambling man

Before going to bed early Saturday morning, I had emailed my sisters about my dad's condition, then tried to get some sleep. My mom was the first to call. She woke me before 9:00AM to ask what room my dad was in. Although I gave her the information she wanted, I also told her she could have found out just as easily from the hospital. I guess I snapped at her, but I was tired. I fell asleep again. Less than an hour later, my sister called to let me know she had called the hospital, and my dad had gotten through the morning OK. I went back to sleep again, and stayed there until noon, when my wife woke me up to go to lunch.

After lunch, I visited the hospital and stayed until nearly dinner time. I probably should have changed my plans, but we had made arrangements to have guests to our home for the holiday weekend, and we didn't want to change our plans at the last minute. Still, I had gotten a chance to see my dad for a good few hours.

Sunday morning, my sister called. She reported that dad had taken a turn for the worse, and that the infections ravaging his body had now infected his blood. Doctors were only giving him a 50/50 chance to survive the next 48 hours. I called my baby sister in Toronto, and told her to get herself to Windsor. Then I called my dad to let him know I'd be visiting him later in the day. I couldn't make out what he said in response.

Sunday afternoon, after my wife returned from church, and after we had eaten lunch, she asked whether she could accompany me to the hospital. I know that she doesn't like hospitals, and is having a tough time dealing with the aging of our respective parents. Still, I agreed that she should come. My wife is a beautiful soul, and her smile exudes love. As she stood by my father's side and held his hand, he looked lovingly at her. I'm sure he was feeling the love she brings to my life, and was celebrating the fact that I would have a wonderful partner to see me through my old age. While she held his hand, I massaged his legs and feet, bringing sensation to his extremities. He really seemed to enjoy the rub.

This visit wasn't as long as I would have liked, but we again had things that needed to get done, so my wife and I left after a couple of hours.

Later that night, my baby sister called to let me know she had arrived in town. I think she might have visited the hospital on Sunday evening, but I wasn't there, so I can't say for sure.

Death - it's nothing like you see on TV

I've been to the emergency room before, but tonight was different. It was a busy Friday night, the first night of a long holiday weekend in Canada. My dad's Acute Care station was just across from the ambulance unloading bay. Everyone who was admitted to the emergency room had to pass by my dad's station, which was adjacent to the nurse's monitoring station. As I sat with my father, comforting him, holding his hand, stroking his face, watching him deteriorate in front of my eyes, I began to despair. It was the first time I had ever seen him so weak, and the first time I had ever heard him talk about his own death in a matter-of-fact manner. Until now, his thoughts on death were that it would come soon enough, "but not yet" (to steal a line from Gladiator). He said things to me, in a voice not loud enough to qualify as a whisper, that a man says when he thinks he's near the end of his days. They were beautiful things, the things a dad says to a son or daughter, the things that don't get said while all is well. I tried desperately to hold back my tears. Thankfully, he was drifting off into laboured sleep often enough to find opportunities to dry my tears and slip away for short periods to compose myself.

Occasionally, a nurse would come by to check the IV line, adjust the monitor, or ask whether my dad needed anything. For the most part, however, my dad was left in my care, to sleep, to wake, and to smile as he saw my ever-present face.

I think it happened around 1:00AM, though I didn't check my watch. I had heard them call the code, and vaguely remember the sounds of hustling staff. And then the wail... a sound unlike any I had ever heard. You can watch as many newsreels as you like, and I've watched my share, but to hear the sound of death with your own ears, happening not 50 feet from where I sat, was something that will haunt me always.

Except to say that the words were foreign, I don't know what language was spoken. It really didn't matter. No translation was necessary. Voices, young and old, proclaimed the passing of a loved one.

I began to cry. My first instinct was to find and console those that were crying. I hadn't seen them... didn't know them... but I knew they needed company. And then I looked at my father. He had managed to sleep through the awful sounds, and they hadn't even seemed to register on his sub-conscious, because I didn't see evidence that his recurring nightmares of the Nazi concentration camps had been any more intense than usual.

I was to learn afterward that the room had been available since 8:30PM the night before, but due to paperwork SNAFU's, the busier-than-usual night, and a shift change mixup, my dad did not get taken to his room until after 2:00AM. The resident on duty wanted to know whether I would stay to help fill in the medical history, and I indicated I would. By the time she got back to me, it was more than an hour later, and I was finally finished by 3:45AM. My father was now resting as comfortably as could be expected, and I was completely wiped out. I got home at 4:15AM, tried to unwind, and finally got to sleep around 6:00AM.

So, where were we...

When I last posted, my dad had been brought to the resthome and I was going to bring the TV.

I brought him his TV first thing Friday morning, and had it hooked up in minutes. I had intended to leave to go to work, but all did not look well with my dad. He was listless, and complaining of pain to his ribs. He could barely speak, and movement was nearly impossible. He complained of a sore neck as well. I thought that he might have fallen out of bed during the night, or been injured by the staff of the nursing home. But, he confirmed to me that the damage had occurred when he was being quickly transferred to and from the ambulance the previous day. It seems that Emergency Response Team members are more concerned with getting you to the hospital quickly than ensuring you are comfortably transported.

He didn't seem to have much of an appetite, and for the first time, he was having trouble taking his medications. The nurse assigned to him was having some success getting him to take the meds, but it was clear that she was falling behind her schedule while looking after my dad, and it was beginning to show in her attitude.

My sister and mother visited my dad while I was still there, and he seemed to enjoy the company. The only thing is... my mom was not very happy about our decision to place my dad in the resthome, and she was arguing with us within earshot of my dad. I'm certain the disagreement was causing him distress, as he seemed to be having more and more trouble breathing.

I couldn't take the combative atmosphere, and finally excused myself sometime around 1:00PM to finally get to work. Having not yet eaten breakfast, I took a bit of a leisurely lunch break before heading back to my home-office. I had only been working for 15 minutes when my sister called. My dad's laboured breathing was being caused by fluid in the lungs, according to a nurse at the home, and he was running a high temperature (105 F). My sister had instructed the nurse to call for an ambulance.

During one of the worst thunderstorms / tornado watches I can recall, the ambulance came and rushed my dad to the hospital ... AGAIN!

My sister, bless her soul, was, by this time, being labeled the family villain. My mother resented the decision to put my dad in the resthome, and my dad resented her for arguing with my mom. My sister finally hit the breaking point, saying she would have nothing further to do with managing my dad's health care. She basically drove my mom home, and said adios. I really don't blame her. You don't know my mom. She's a real piece of work, but that's a story for my therapist, not this blog.

I had been informed that my dad would not be returning to the resthome. If he were ever released from the hospital, he would be returning home to the care of a live-in nurse. So, while the ambulance sped off with my dad, and my sister drove my mom home, I was left to clean out his room at the resthome.

I spent much of Friday night at the hospital in the emergency room. I had been thinking I would avoid the hospital that night, because there would be too many people there. It turned out that when I arrived around 7:30PM, my mom was there, but not my sister. My mom had been there since 4:00PM and stayed another half hour. At that point, I took my position at the side of the bed, and decided to stay with him in the emergency room.

Will it ever end?

What a difference a day makes. Wednesday at noon, my dad was released from the hospital. I spoke with him by phone when he got home. He sounded perfect, and I visited him during the afternoon. He actually looked surprisingly healthy! Except for the rash, which will take several weeks to clear, he was back to his vibrant, funny, take-charge self. It was a joy to behold.

Thursday morning, just before 8:00AM, I got a call from my mother. She was calling to let me know that some time around 3:00AM, my father had screamed for help and my mother came running, only to find him laying on the floor of the bedroom. He hadn't fallen... he was just too tired to get back into bed after a trip to the bathroom. She's nearly 80 herself, and couldn't get him off the floor, so she called the ambulance. Good thing too. When they got to him, he was close to death. I shit you not.

From miraculous recovery to a near-death experience, in a matter of hours.

He would later tell the nurse at the resthome that it was the worst night of his life, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

He spent about 7 hours in the emergency room, on fluids, before the doctors basically said that all he really needed was close medical supervision, so he would take his meds and do what's required to get well. Without even admitting him to a room, he was discharged into the care of my mother and taken home.

This is the second time he's left the hospital in good shape only tor return in under 24 hours. And each time, the downhill slide had come faster than the time before. My sister and I had decided that what was necessary was close supervision outside the hospital. After some calls, we decided that the best course of action would be to have him in a private nursing home - at least until he can completely recover from the current bout with SJS. Within hours of making this decision, he was registered at a local nursing home, and we moved him out of the house.

At least now, he can be cared for by professionals, and my mother can be alleviated of the burden of trying to care for my dad. Last night was his first full night there, and since he doesn't yet have phone service, I don't know how the night went. I do know that my name was the "emergency contact" on the admission form, and I didn't get a call. So hopefully, things didn't go too badly for him.

Today, I have to bring him his TV set and make arrangements for him to get phone service.

I can't sleep

It's early Wednesday morning, and I can't seem to fall asleep. My dad is supposed to be released from the hospital today. He still has all the outward signs of the Syndrome, but the doctors say he's recovering nicely and has been flirting incessantly with the nurses. I am a bit reluctant to see him getting out before he's completely cured. After all, I think he was prematurely released after the surgery on May 5th, indirectly causing the syndrome in the first place. When I see him in person, he seems to be getting stronger, though he still looks terrible. And when I speak to him on the phone, he sounds so weak and frail. I don't think he's got that many miraculous recoveries left in him, so I don't want to push his luck.

Permanent eye damage averted

In what has been the best response yet by his team of physicians, the lead doctor called for an opthamologist consult, and that doctor has determined that no serious damage has been done to my father's vision. That's so gratifying, since the affected eye is the stronger of his two; and had it been damaged, my dad could have been declared legally blind. I guess good luck continues to ride on his shoulder.

1 in a million

I've always said my dad is special. Now, just a week after his 84th birthday, I have conclusive proof. Stevens/Johnson Syndrome, developed in 1.1 of every million surgical patients, seems to be the diagnosis-du-jour for my dad's condition. Seeing him in the hospital yesterday, with open wounds on his face, arms, neck, and body, brought me close to tears. For a man who's suffered through Buchenwald concentration camp, prostate cancer, triple-bypass surgery, and most recently, congestive heart failure and a pacemaker implant, seeing him complain of "burning lips" seemed like a petty reaction to what I thought was a simple allergic reaction to medication.

Now, as I read about the symptoms of Stevens/Johnson Syndrome, and how the symptoms are akin to those in severe burn patients, I understand his pain. And I am hopeful that he will see his way clear to allowing the hospital staff to properly treat this condition. Again, according to what I've read, the treatment may involve a hospital stay of several weeks, as doctors attempt to stabilize the condition, rehydrate the affected areas, and re-introduce the lost nutrients to his system. I've read there may be permanent eye damage resulting from this condition, though I am hopeful this does not come to pass. I must say that his initial symptoms were diagnosed as an eye infection and thrush, for which he was given medications which now turn out to have done more harm than good.

Another turn for the worse

In the continuing saga of my dad's recuperation, things have taken another turn for the worse. The initial reaction to the antibiotics was treated with more medication, and this proved ineffective. While getting just a tad better than at his worst, my dad is still being adversely affected by something in the post-op cycle, and today, he deteriorated to the point where he had to be readmitted to the hospital.

I am very scared.

Welcome to our home

For those who've followed my blog through the years, you know I lost my job a couple of years ago, and we had to drastically downsize our house. Thankfully, my wife is very resourceful, and has great taste. I'm very proud of the job she's done, making the smaller house a home. I've decided to share with you a picture of our living room. As cramped as it is, my wife has still managed to transform it into a very comfortable area, and she's particularly smitten with the art gallery look we've added since Christmas.

Allergy identified and dealt with

So, the allergic reaction caused a skin rash that no-one at the hospital noticed, and the skin rash escalated into something more severe. By afternoon, the rash had turned to pustules and they had begun to pop. Thankfully, my sister spent most of the day sorting things out, and after a trip to hospital emergency, he's now been hooked up with Benadryl and a different antibiotic. Things should start to improve from here.

Post-op complications

I swear, nothing seems to go easy these days. I posted on Wednesday night (actually early Thursday morning) on just how well my dad looked at the hospital. He was smiling, joking, flirting with the nurses, and that twinkle in his eye was shining at full strength. I visited him at home on Thursday evening, after he had been released from the hospital, and I swear someone switched his body for someone else.

His voice was gravelly - so different than what he usually sounds like, and his face and lips were so puffy he was barely recognizable. Apparently, things didn't get any better on Friday, so when the home-visitation nurse came to check on him, she commented to my sister that the swelling in his face wasn't normal. My sister took dad to an after-hours clinic last night, and apparently, he's having some sort of allergic reaction to the pain and/or antibiotic medications he was given after his release. So now, he's taking even more pills to combat the allergic effects of the other medication.

And all these medications are now in addition to the 16 other pills he's been taking on a daily basis since his pacemaker implant. I thank God he has the wits to keep his medications straight, and the will-to-live to keep taking them all. It's really painful to see him looking so strange, and of course, I think he's feeling discomfort, which makes it all the more intolerable. I'll be so happy when he's gotten over the hump and returns to normal.

Successful surgery

When my dad underwent his pacemaker implant last month in Phoenix, the doctors there tried to hook up a colostomy bag to make him more comfortable during his recovery. Unfortunately, in an attempt to find the proper spot, the doctors accidentally nicked some old scar tissue from a prior medical procedure and did some damage to the previously healed tissue. This caused a slow leak of internal bleeding that the doctors in Phoenix recommended he have looked at, once he had regained his strength.

Today was the day his procedure was due to be performed. There had been some concern that he would be unable to cope with a general anaesthetic, since he had been complaining recently of some weakness and shortness of breath. Thankfully, the procedure only required a local anaesthetic, and it went off without a hitch. Apparently, the surgery was a success, and my dad is due to leave the hospital tomorrow, or Friday at the latest.

And seeing him tonight at the hospital, I have to say this is the best he's looked since the pacemaker was implanted. I am confident he will make a full recovery.

Eureka!

That night, having returned home after failing to get the equipment properly hooked up, I had a brainstorm. Of course the darned connection didn't work! When I was watching the cable TV channel, piped in directly from the wall hookup, I realized that the tuner in the TV had been tuned to the station he had been watching. And then I sheepishly remembered that to watch ANY external source (VCR, DVD, auxillary input), the TV would need to be tuned to Channel 3! DUH!!!! I felt so stupid.

During the afternoon of May 4th, I kept thinking about how dumb I had been not to think of this the day before. Since I was having an unproductive afternoon with work (I think I was coming down with something - I was feeling very warm and could barely keep my eyes open), I decided to visit my father and test out my theory.

Sure enough, as soon as I switched the TV to channel 3, I got a perfect signal from the DVD player.

Dad has been resisting all of our attempts to get a computer, a newer TV, or anything technological in nature. At his age, he keeps insisting that such a purchase would not be worth the investment. Mind you, he's been putting this argument forward for more than 10 years. Just imagine how much fun he could have been having if he had relented all those years ago. Regardless, when I got the DVD working, and inserted a picture disk with hundreds of digital photos (both direct camera shots, as well as old, scanned pictures), his eyes lit up. And he said something I would have never believed possible. He thanked me for doing this, against his wishes, and admitted that the idea was wonderful.

I had made a variety of test disks to take to his house, to see what formats the DVD player would be able to read. Of the three disks I cut, two (CD-Rs) were readable. The CD-RW was not readable, because it was actually produced on a Mt. Ranier compatible CD-RW drive, so the format was actually CD-MRW, which could not be read by the player.

Over the next few days, I'm going to cut a proper CD-R disk with thousands of family pictures, and give them all to him. Once he learns how to use the player, I'm sure it will be one of his favourite past-times.

Happy Birthday Dad - Day 3

Day 3 was actually May 3rd, my dad's actual birthday. By the time that day rolled around, all the out of town guests had returned to Toronto, and my dad was finally able to get a day to himself. I came over for a while during the evening to try to set up the DVD player my sister had bought. Since he has an old TV with only a cable-input, I had purchased a multi-input converter... something that would allow him to plug the cable input and the DVD into a single box, and would hook up to his TV via the cable input connector.

I spent nearly an hour trying to get the thing hooked up, because first, he didn't have a power source close enough to the TV (i.e. a power source with enough empty plugs to accommodate the new equipment). Rummaging through the miscellaneous crap drawer in the utility room, we came up with a polarized extension cord. Next, he didn't have an extra cable patch cord to go from the converter to his set. A quick trip to Wal-Mart solved the latter problem (thank God they're open past 9PM). I hooked everything up, hoping to see great things happen, only to find a snow-filled screen any time the DVD player was turned on. I tried for a half hour to find the problem, but finally had to give up. I resolved to return the next day with a good quality S-Video cable, instead of the crappy RCA's that came with the converter.

Despite my failure, my dad seemed truly appreciative of my efforts.

Happy Birthday Dad - Day 2

Day 2 of the birthday marathon went exceedingly well. Christie, Jesse and the kids came. Jonathan also was there, as were my parents (of course), both my sisters and my brother-in-law. And for a while, the dogs were allowed to have the run of the house, a kind of "coming out" party for Jasmine.

She was a great hit, of course. And it was simply amazing how Jasmine got along with Emily and Courtney.

The previous night, my sister had dropped a broad hint that she had intended to buy a DVD player for my dad. She needed my assistance to ensure it would be technically capable of playing all the required types of disks, and be compatible with the old-style TV my dad uses. So, on Sunday morning, we went shopping for the DVD, and after buying one, it was up to me to work out the connection details. My sister gave the DVD player to my dad in the morning. Later, when everyone was over my house, I gave him the second part of the gift - the connection/conversion box needed to feed the signal to his TV set. On Monday, I'll visit my parent's house to install everything.

Happy Birthday Dad - Day 1

Having come close to losing my dad over the past month, this birthday takes on added significance. Although his actual birthday is on Monday, the entire family has decided to make this weekend an extended birthday celebration. My sister came from out of town for the occasion, as did my niece and her husband, bringing their 16 month old son (my dad's first natural great-grandchild) and dog. Tomorrow, day 2 of the celebration will be at my home, and my dad will get to visit with my step-children, and their children (though technically not his great-grandchildren, they've been around for 5 and 1 year respectively).

I won't spoil the surprise by saying what's in store for him tomorrow, but I know he'll enjoy it.

Happy Birthday, Lilli

I called Lilli today. Lilli was a tomboy that lived just kitty-corner from my home when we were growing up. We went to the same primary school and the same highschool, and grew to be good friends over the years. So much so that we have a tradition of calling eachother on our birthdays. Lilli is 33 days older than I am, and I've always gotten a kick out of calling her the "older woman". When I called her last year, she wasn't home, so I left a message on her machine. Today, I got through to her in person, and she confided that the message I left for her had remained on her machine for over 6 months - as a reminder of our friendship.

I hardly ever see her... she and her husband and family live in a different city, and I think it's been over ten years since I saw her last. Still, she sounds just like the Lilli I remember as a boy, and I still see in my mind's eye the young girl who went nearly two years without saying a word to me in response to my accepting her dare to do something ungentlemanly (I think I was about 12 or 13 at the time). So today, some 40 years later, we celebrate our continued friendship.

I think tomorrow I'll leave a message on her machine, to keep her company for the next six months.

For Lindsey...

You'll need patience or a high-speed connection to get the best enjoyment from this post - high resolution pictures of the pup. Due to limited bandwidth on my account, the 25MB movie clip will only be available to those that send a request (including your email address) in the comments - and then, you might still have to wait if my bandwidth limit is exceeded (sorry).

Edited to add: I noticed that when the post is actually on my blog, the original links don't work (they work fine in PREVIEW mode). I guess the hosting company doesn't allow referral links, and requires that you either enter URLs directly from the browser, or visit through an HTML page on their server. To make things more convenient, I have RELUCTANTLY been forced to supply an HTML link to an unformatted page thrown together on their server.

Link to pictures page on my hosting service - sorry for the banner ads!

Happiness is...

A brand new bouncing puppy! Jasmine is so full of life - and pee, and poop! And she's so fond of letting fly whenever the urge strikes her. It's so much fun to watch my frazzled wife running after her, trying to catch her before she squats in the house. And Rosie is finally coming to terms with the loss of her older sister. Who would have thought that dogs would be so broken up about the loss of a room-mate. Rosie didn't eat for three days after Daisy was taken from her... just starting to show signs of a returning appetite this evening. But Rosie has been very friendly to the new puppy, and the games they are playing are ones that Rosie never got the opportunity to play with her more sedate, lethargic, sister. Tag, keepaway, and spin the puppy (a game where both dogs grab opposite ends of a pull-toy, and Rosie does her impression of an on-the-spot spin, while poor Jasmine, feet off the floor, hangs on for dear life!).

What a hoot they are to watch!

The other hoot is watching Jasmine try to emulate every move Rosie makes - including an attempt to drink from a rain bucket sitting a good 14-16 inches off the ground. For Rosie, it's a comfortable height; for Jasmine, she has to drag herself up the slope to get a tongue in. I have SO MANY PICTURES, it's hard to decide what to post. I could easily run out of server space. I'll have to investigate some free space for hosting pictures. And the MOVIE CLIPS we've been able to take are just stunning. We're all so happy with the new puppy!

Meet Jasmine

The last time we lost a dog, it was devastating. Not only was the loss immense, but the feeling of loneliness and despair that it caused us was indescribable. We waited nine days before replacing our beloved Shasta, and it was an agonizing time for us all. This time, we've decided not to wait. Today, we purchased a new black lab pup, which we have named Jasmine. She'll come home tomorrow, and, subject to an inspection by our vet, will become the newest member of our family.




There is a two-dog-maximum ordinance in our community, so we won't be able to keep Daisy much longer. In a way, putting her down before her disease robs her of her dignity and lifeforce seems like the right thing to do.

Daisy Dog to Die

Daisy, the older of our two black labs, is living on borrowed time. She went to the vet yesterday for tests, after we noticed a recent drop in her appetite, and a change in the colour of her stools. The tests were expensive, but the very least we owed our beloved companion. The vet praised us for noticing her change so quickly. Unfortunately, the downside to our quick reaction was that the results of the non-invasive test were inconclusive. According to the vet, we can proceed in one of two ways. We can start giving her expensive medications to try to help her recover some liver function (it's not a cure, just a way of helping her cope), or we can perform exploratory surgery, which might help locate the source of the problem, but would not guarantee that a cure would be found.

The cost of the medication or surgery is prohibitive given our financial situation, and she's already approaching the twilight years - where the amount of time left in her expected lifespan would not justify the expense - so we need to come to terms with the fact that Daisy's days are numbered. She looks so sad - seeming to know that her world is about to change - but she's trying to be a trooper. I think she's providing more comfort to me (sensing my dread) than I am to her.

I personally chose Daisy among several puppies in her litter. She's so sweet, calm, and adoring - all the traits of the black lab, without the over-exhuberance of her younger "sister". It will be very hard to put her down, and I wish there was some way she could live out her remaining time happy and pain-free. Now, I just need to get up the nerve to take the next step.

Tax day - come and gone

Yesterday was the deadline for U.S. tax return submission. It's due April 30th in Canada. This year, I filed early, and by sheer coincidence, my refund arrived yesterday. That same day, I finally heard back from the framing gallery that my pictures were ready for pickup. And today, we had to take one of our dogs to the vet for a fairly expensive set of x-rays and examinations. The framing gallery and vet bills will just nicely eat up that tax refund. Oh well...

Small minds

There are times when my mind is at rest, and a visual stimulus will just strike me as funny. I was reading a news article online, and my mouse cursor just happened to be off to the side resting on a picture. When that happens, the standard arrow changes to a little hand, with the index finger extended. The index finger just happened to be positioned on the nostril of the man in the picture. At first glance, I didn't even realize it was my cursor... I thought the guy had been caught on camera picking his nose.

Just thought I'd share that.

Close call

I'm back. Since last Monday, I've been in Phoenix. I had to rush down there to be with my father, who suffered congestive heart failure on Sunday, April 4th, just two days before he was scheduled to return to Canada after his winter vacation. It was a frantic week. Having experienced an all-too-close brush with death, my father finally was released from the hospital on Thursday night. Good Friday was anything but... since, due to the holiday, I was unable to buy the medications that had been prescribed by the doctors who treated him. By Saturday morning, my father had taken another turn for the worse... luckily, he responded very favourably to the drugs once I was able to find them (one in particular was so rare, I had to try four pharmacies before I found one that stocked it).

Finally, I had to reschedule his (and my mom's) flight back to Canada, since they had missed the original one on April 6th. I scheduled myself on the same flight, so I could take care of anything that might go wrong on the plane, and so that I could co-ordinate transportation from the airport back to my parents' home.

Since my parents had a whole winter full of luggage they wished to bring home, I had arranged an Airport Shuttle for them. I had to travel separately, so I could return the rental car before going to the airport terminal. Unfortunately, the main highway link from my parents' part of the city to the airport was under construction today. The detour was overcrowded, and by the time I was able to make it to the car lot to return the rental, it was too late to catch my flight. That meant that my parents were on the plane without me, and without transportation home.

I had very little time to arrange alternate ground transportation for my parents, since I was also trying to arrange alternate air transport for myself, and the next available flight was so close to my arrival time at the airport, there was scarcely time to make some calls. Luckily, I was able to contact my wife and sister, and between them, they were able to make alternate ground transportation arrangements. I was also lucky enough to find time to leave a phone message at the ticket counter for my parents, so they at least knew I would be missing the flight. I had been concerned that if I didn't show up, they would purposely not board the plane so we could remain together.

Thankfully, everything worked out, and my parents made it home ok. I got home about a half hour ago, so the entire saga came to a happy conclusion. Everyone alive, home, and safe.

Back by popular demand

Last year around this time, I had talked about how delicious my sister's recipe for potato pancakes was. A quick check of my sitemeter statistics show that many of you have been searching for Bubalech Recipes and came across that article. Since I didn't actually publish the recipe, those searches were pretty much fruitless. Today, I will remedy that oversight by publishing the actual recipe.


My mom's recipe for bubalech - lovingly revised and transcribed by my sister

This will yield 5 small pancakes (each pancake made with two soup-size spoonfuls of dough):


You'll need

• 2 eggs (separated)
  
• 1/8 cup (=1oz. or 30ml) milk or water (I use skim milk)
  
• 25ml (=1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons) matzo meal
  
• 1/8 cup (=1oz. or 30ml) cake meal
  
• 1/8 teaspoon (i.e. half of 1/4 teaspoon) sugar
  
• Oil for deep frying (my mother used peanut oil, but I use canola oil)
  
• Applesauce, powdered sugar or cinnamon for topping
  
• Electric blender, soup spoon, pancake flipper and large spoon
  
• Paper towels to absorb excess fat
  
• Oven-safe warming plate (optional - if pancakes will not be served immediately)
  

Instructions

1. Beat the egg whites on high speed until as light and fluffy as possible without becoming stiff. (**this is the secret of my mother's recipe)
   
2. Add egg yolks and beat on high just until blended.
   
3. Add liquid and beat just until blended.
   
4. Stir in dry ingredients BY HAND until blended. The dough should be thick enough to drop from a soup spoon. It will thicken a bit after stirring as the matzo meal absorbs the liquid, but you want it to be loose enough that it will result in a light pancake rather than a stone.
   
5. Pre-heat the oil on medium heat. The oil should be deep enough to fry the pancakes, as they will absorb less oil if they are fried in deep fat.
   
6. When you are transferring the mixture from spoon to fry pan, you need to just keep the bowl very close to the pan, take a generous spoonful and drop it into the oil (2 spoonfuls per pancake) working your way around the perimeter of your pan.
   
7. Fry them on medium heat (or adjust lower if needed) and only turn them once. It's easier to flip them if you use two implements (I use a flipper in my right and a large spoon in my left).
   
8. Transfer to a paper towel on a plate to absorb excess fat. They can be kept warm on 200F in the oven for a short while before serving if you are making multiple batches, but are best eaten fresh.
   

Topping suggestions

As a topping, I suggest spooning on some applesauce or sprinkling with sugar and/or cinnamon.


If you find this recipe of use, please leave a comment and I'll be sure to pass it on to my mom and sister.

Have a Happy Passover!

Do you smoke or drink?

There are apparently some situations that can arise for those who smoke or drink that are not likely to be visited upon those of us who don't. In case you misplace this link, it's been added to my Comic Relief section.

Thanks to my sister for this great find!

A beautiful Friday

The weather is starting to turn very beautiful in these parts. Temperatures yesterday reached 20C (68F) and today is just a smidge cooler. I got a call this morning from the guy who does our framing. The supplies have arrived at his studio, which means we should have the new paintings framed by the end of this weekend. I am looking forward to getting them done, since they will be the last ones we order for some time.

We're running out of wall space, and when we first started thinking about ordering paintings, we set a limit of five. We've reached our limit!

Edited to add

It seems my optimism was not well placed. I just got a call from the studio. Seems when the frames were ordered, they forgot to order the stretchers. So, I won't be hearing back until at least the middle of next week. Oh well...

Surprise, surprise, surprise

You'll never guess what arrived today. Paintings. Two of them. Four weeks earlier than I anticipated. I can't keep these canvasses rolled up for another four weeks until the date they were expected to arrive. Besides, what if they aren't up to snuff? I need to open the tubes and verify their quality within the next few days. Well, I guess my wife will get an early Mother's Day gift. I expect her home for lunch any minute...

Can you keep a secret?

You may remember that for Christmas, I ordered some artwork for my wife. Well... we loved the pieces, and ordered another one straightaway. It arrived in early February, and (here's the secret) I've ordered two more which should arrive in time for Mother's Day.

Here are the one's I'm waiting for now...











Now, don't tell anyone!

Bells are ringing

Have I told you that my daughter is getting married?

Well, she is.

I'm talking about my other daughter. That's right. They're both engaged. And it seems like only yesterday they were babies...










So much for boredom.

Storm Brewing

I need a change. Depression is not something I'm really familiar with from a first-hand perspective. Even when I had no job, I don't think I felt quite as blue as I do right now. While I enjoy the work I do, I am thoroughly disgusted with the notion that my boss doesn't appreciate me, and I'm making less now than I did 15 years ago. Something's got to change, and soon.

I'm still alive ... barely

I am so bored right now, I could just scream. There is so little variation day-to-day, I really can't remember sometimes just what day it is. Work is no longer satisfying, and I'm afraid it shows in my voice. Colleagues are beginning to ask whether I'm OK. I wish the economy would improve sufficiently to provide me more options. And I wish this damned US/Canadian border would lighten up. It really limits my mobility and ability to choose a more rewarding job.

Stressed out

I'm working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. I'm not feeling as young as I once did, and I feel the stress having an adverse effect on my well-being. I need to relax a bit more, and start getting more sleep. I had been used to getting 4 hours per night since I was a university student. That's still the norm for me, although when I'm exhausted, I can drop off for many more... Lately, I've only been getting 2-3 hours a night, and that just isn't enough, even for me.

Really slow here

I haven't felt much like writing lately, as there's really nothing much going on. Despite the fact this site is not very interesting at the best of times, when things get really slow around here, there's absolutely nothing worth talking about. The most exciting thing happening recently is controversy in the family about the new Passions of Christ film. I've decided not to see it, primarily because I try to avoid movies with gratuitous violence (even if it is historical in nature).

Life and death

I had actually typed the next few lines as part of my previous post, but thought they'd be better off separately...

I'm looking forward to my parents' return to Canada in April. They have been spending winters in Arizona for the past 20 years or so, and this year will be the last in their own condo. It's been sold - a concession to their aging and the realization that travel isn't as much fun when the majority of the people they used to visit are no longer among the living.

Speaking of which... during the past week, I attended a memorial service for the brother of the first girl I think I was ever in love with. I met her when I was in grade 10 and we were close throughout the next three years. I'd only seen her once or twice while I was a university student, because she had chosen a different path. I guess the last time I had seen her, before this past week, was in 1974 and maybe once more in 1977 (so hard to remember). Despite the pain of the moment, she seemed genuinely glad to see me - not even surprised that I had come. She should have been surprised... My sister had seen the obituary listing and informed me. Had it not been for that, I would not have known.

She was there with her grown children, and introduced me to them as "this is [email address]". We've been corresponding on and off for the past year, ever since my sister found an article about her in the Alumni magazine and passed the information on to me. I had so much hoped to be able to introduce my wife to her - oh what stories they could have shared - but my wife declined my invitation to come.

I'm still here

Nothing has been happening lately that's worth talking about. The past week at work was uneventful, with some accomplishments and some disappointments, but nothing to write about. My wife and I did have an evening out with my sister and brother-in-law which I would characterize as very enjoyable. I used the visit as an opportunity to shore up the defenses on their computer system. They should be somewhat more secure now than they were.

I also spent time this weekend shoring up my own network security. The wireless network here had been guarded by WEP encryption. I upgraded to WPA yesterday. I feel somewhat more secure.

Fun fun fun

I found this game on another blog. I haven't solved it yet, but I only have one more piece to locate.

Update
I found what I thought was the last piece of the puzzle, but I still can't escape from the room. I suck at these puzzles!

Valentine's Day Movie

My wife and I saw 50 First Dates today. It was very different than what I expected, but in a good way. More later... we've got dinner reservations!

Old dog wins

It's official. Pop-Up Disabler allows some forms of pop-under ads to get through. Pop-Up Stopper doesn't. Period. End of story. I tried reinstalling the challenger (after switching back to Pop-Up Stopper and going two whole days without a pop-under) and within 12 hours, I had seen my first pop-under. That's conclusive proof as far as I'm concerned. I'll "put up with" clicking on a Ctrl-key if I have to, to make my authorized popups appear. Who knows, with a bit of improvement, the challenger may yet return.

Updated opinion on Pop-Up Disabler

Since installing it, I've been receiving pop-under ads (those are the ones that are on your screen waiting for you when you close your browser window). I don't think the disabler is causing these to occur. I just think it's not catching them. To test my theory (or whether it's just a coincidence), I'll be disabling the new software and going back to my tried and true. The pop-under ads have happened perhaps three or four times over the past 24 hours, so if there is a pattern, it should disappear (or not) with my old software.

We'll see.

In the meantime, I'll be running Spybot S&D to ensure I haven't picked up adware/spyware.

More to come...

Very impressive!

I ran across this site today while reading the forums at dslreports.com. At first, I was impressed that Sergei had taken the time to document the strengths and weaknesses of every popup stopper software I had ever heard of. It sure sounded like a good service... and it appeared that his source of revenue for his endeavours was a panel of Google-sponsored ad links.

What I hadn't immediately noticed as a link at the top of his homepage - "Pop-Up Disabler". I clicked on it a few minutes ago, and it took me to an information page describing a utility he had written himself.

Finally, the reason for the website became clear. This man had researched all the popup stoppers on the market so that he could design one that was better.

My personal favourite has been Pop-Up Stopper Free Edition from Panicware. It's amazingly simple, really. It stops popups. Period. If there are things you want to appear, you simply hold down the Ctrl- key while clicking, and the box appears. I've always thought the product was awesome.

So today, I installed the new Pop-Up Disabler. It was eerie, really. No messages of any kind. Did I need to turn it on? There was nothing in the system tray. I looked at the list of programs on my machine. There was a new link for Pop-Up Disabler. But looking at the entry, there were simply entries for uninstalling, going to the website, and viewing the help file. Nothing about enabling the software.

Alright... I guess I'd have to test it. The first test... visit a few sites hosted by Yahoo/Geocities and Tripod. Tripod's pop-up ads had always been effectively blocked by Pop-Up Stopper, even though a visible "blink" was always noticeable as the popup came up and was instantaneously killed. With the new blocker, the blink never happened. Just a main screen, with no hint of popup. Then I tried going to a Geocities site. I guess I was a bit disappointed that the stupid floating ad appeared (it also appears with Pop-Up Stopper), but I understand that only one pop-up stopper on the entire market can stop those ads - and that program is not free. What really impressed me was when I tried to leave comments on blogs. The Pop-Up Stopper program automatically blocks the popup comment boxes. I have, over time, become accustomed to holding the Ctrl-key when I wish to comment. With the new software installed, clicking on a comment link brought up the comment box - no problem.

I'm going to keep this program installed a bit longer to see how it works, and to verify that it doesn't have any spyware component. But until then, I'm ready to give a preliminary endorsement to this product.

Leno in Wonderland

The Tonight Show with Jay Leno is my late-night talk show of choice. While not as funny as David Letterman, I find his guests to be more A-list, and I enjoy his self-deprecating humour. Tonight, his monologue was off. He really wasn't that funny. And to top it off, at the end of his monologue, as he cut to commercial, he introduced his band leader to the audience (as he has done every night for nearly the past 12 years). I wonder what drug he was on tonight... introducing Kevin Eubanks as "Branford Marsalis" - his original bandleader who left the show in December, 1994.

Having fun!

One of the blogs I read featured a game link. I don't play games much... no patience/imagination/coordination - pick your reason. But this one sounded fun, so I took a look.

I've posted a jpg screen capture of my high score (updated from 593) and low score (not counting 0 of course - downgraded again from 148.6). Now it's your turn.



High Score



Low Score

Baby returned by father

The Amber Alert worked. Sunday morning, the baby was turned over to police by the man (father) who took it. Mom's still in the wind. The newspaper here is saying the mother was suspected of having done drugs/alcohol during the pregnancy, due to the baby going through convulsions noticed by nurses. After they sent a Child Services worker to question the mother, she got up and left the building with the newborn.

Amber Alert Ticker in action

This is one of those times where you really don't want to know whether a feature on your weblog "works". While pulling up my blog page, I noticed a LIVE AMBER ALERT being flashed across the top of my screen. This is scary stuff. I hope they catch the couple who made off with a 1-day-old baby here in town.

And me makes three

I've seen this on two of the blog sites I read, so I guess it's about time I tried it...



create your own visited states map

Yeah, I know, I don't get around much (and if it wasn't for a tourist spot called 4-corners, there'd be even less red)!

The bug

It came upon me suddenly. After Sunday dinner, I felt a bit queasy. I thought I had eaten too quickly, or too much. The drive home from the fast-food restaurant was difficult, as my stomach didn't feel much like being constrained by a seatbelt. But, a few hours later, I was fine.

The next morning, I woke up and had my usual breakfast, then started working. Within a couple of hours, I was feeling that queasiness again, but this time, it was worse. When lunch time rolled around, I didn't feel like eating, and skipped that meal. Good thing too! A half hour later, I found myself dry-heaving the remains of breakfast, and I kept up this behaviour intermittently for the next 8 hours. In between puking sessions, I managed to grab some rest. Dinner time came and I still wasn't in the mood for food, opting to continue sleeping. I slept, in fact, until the phone woke me up at 11:15AM Tuesday morning. It was my boss calling, wanting to know what had happened to me.

Although I had sent an email when I got my first attack, I guess I hadn't been clear that this was an extended bug, not just an inconvenient event. He sounded a bit pissed!

I tried to eat lunch Tuesday, figuring it had been more than 24 hours since I last had food or water, but I couldn't finish my lunch. It didn't feel right going down, and certainly didn't feel like it was going to stay down. By dinner time, I thought things were better, but even then, I was only able to finish half of my smaller-than-usual serving of chicken, rice, and vegetables.

It's now Wednesday morning, and I should be eating breakfast. I just don't feel very hungry, and every time I think about food, I feel like throwing up.

Whatever this is, I hope it goes away soon.

I couldn't believe my eyes...

Yesterday, I talked about a site I had joined a couple of years ago. I get more than 50 spams a day addressed to the email address I used when registering there. I visited them today to check my preferences area. Nowhere on the site does it give you the ability to opt in (or out) of anything. The only option available is to give up your membership. Since there's nothing that says I won't continue getting email to that address, even if I do give up membership, I won't bother.

Wham, bam, thank you, spam!

Never have I been so pleased to receive spam. I imagine shortly after writing this, I'll have grown tired of the whole thing, but for now, I'm reveling in the beauty of the new "statistics" feature built into the latest update of MailWasher Pro. For anyone with serious spam problems, I heartily recommend this software. It does a tremendous job of quickly filtering spam, using black lists from multiple sources (two are preprogrammed, but their website gives you more addresses that you simply add to the configuration file).

I've been using MailWasher software for well over a year, and MailWasher Pro since last March. The latest version, however, features a slick new user interface, and a "Statistics" area that gives you charts categorizing the type of spam you get, and the percentage of "good" to bad mail. Since I installed this version a week ago, the statistics page reported that I had received 566 pieces of mail, of which 87% was spam. And (here's the part I love) nearly 90% of the spam was detected by my own spam filters, with the remaining 10% being detected by blacklist servers.

I keep separate email addresses for every service I've signed up for, so I can track the source of my spam. In the previous version of MailWasher, I had simply put the description "Filtered" on all my custom filters. This past week, I labeled each filter with a meaningful tag, so I could see where my spam is coming from. Nearly 70% is going to one email address (which I used over two years ago to sign up in a webcam community when I first got a webcam). So, either they're selling their list, or their site is easy to hack. I suppose I should visit the site to check their "opt out" policy.

Tomorrow.

Medical miracles

I'd sure like to know when the Discovery Channel airs this.

Someone's pulling my feathers

Can you believe this?

Searching for ... truth?

Search engines are an incredible invention. I don't think many of us could locate anything on the internet (not specifically associated with a brand name) without them. As more pages are indexed, and as designers become more proficient at designing appropriate meta-tags, web pages are easier to find than letting your fingers do the walking.

But there is one domain in which traditional search engines are weak... categorization of blogs info. Because many blogs have archives that contain many unrelated posts, search engines that look for combinations of words are fooled into selecting totally irrelevant pages, simply because one word from a Monday post, plus one word from a Tuesday post, plus one word from a Wednesday post happen to match the three-word search phrase.

Since most blogs are either hosted on specific blog domains, or use specific tools (and associated templates) - all of which should be parseable by a sophisticated search spider, I believe the technology already exists for blogs to be properly indexed on a post-by-post basis, and not just on a document/page basis.

So, why this particular post? Because someone found this site by searching for a particularly offensive search phrase. And because my blog is archived on a monthly basis, all of my posts for a particular month were combined into a single document which happened to contain the "f" word (in a context related to being taken advantage of by a retail establishment), along with other non-offensive words that, by coincidence, happen to have been used (individually) over the course of the month. The resulting, very offensive phrase, was reported as a "match". Not only a match, but a match that appeared in the first page of search results!

That's just not right!

"D" is for ...

Yesterday, I unhappily reported that my new paintings would not be framed in time to be displayed for company. What I didn't say is that I pleaded with the framer to try to get it done that day. It's funny... my sister doesn't read my blog too often, but yesterday, she happened to see my remarks about the paintings, and immediately sent an email acknowledging she had read the blog entry, and was aware the paintings would not be on display.

Maybe three hours after I posted that piece, I got a call from the gallery. They had finished doing the frames and we could pick them up any time. My first inclination was to blog about it and post pictures of the framed works. Then, I decided to keep it a surprise - just in case my sister read the blog again before coming over. Knowing me, and my penchant for pulling last minute surprises, my sister asked me straight out while we were at the restaurant whether the framing had been completed. I continued eating and didn't answer, pretending to have not heard the question (my hearing is sub-par, so that sometimes works).

After dinner, when we headed back to our place for a movie night, the pictures were hard to miss. They went over well with my sister and brother-in-law. I don't know if they will buy anything from the gallery, but we did visit the website, and they were able to locate reproductions by an artist that strikes their fancy (I've never heard of this person). Anyway, the surprise was maintained, and I got the satisfaction of seeing their faces as they viewed the paintings for the first time.

Just call me devious.

And here are the paintings, framed and hung...


Hanging over the fireplace


Hanging on the livingroom wall

Off the wall

That phrase has several meanings. If I were a more prolific storyteller, I could lead you through the convoluted maze that is my mind before eventually getting to the punchline. But I know I can't weave a story to save my life, so I'll tell you straight. Despite gentle prodding and some not-so-subtle hints, we have not yet received our paintings back from the framing gallery. So, when we entertain tonight, where do you think our new paintings will be? ...

TGIF

Need I say more?

Where is everybody?

Is it the winter blues? Or maybe people are taking themselves too seriously? It seems there's quite a few people making the decision to hang up their keyboards and pack it in. Some of the blogs I frequent have either been on hiatus, or are on hiatus, or are thinking about going on hiatus. And while I'm certain that most people who read this blog wish I'd take the same road, I don't do this for others as much as I do it for myself.

Things have been a bit slow around here, primarily because my wife has had this cold for a week now, and she can't take the standard cold medicine because it would interfere with some other stuff she's taking. That means she's suffering more than you would normally expect, and that, in turn, is adversely affecting our social life. We've already had to postpone one night out with family, and if she doesn't improve soon, this weekend looks like a wasteland as well.

What a show!

My wife and I went to the Auto Show today. More precisely, it was the North American International Auto Show, in Detroit, Michigan. For the past week, only journalists and dignitaries were allowed to attend, and the local newspapers have been filled with pictures of the concept cars, and stories about the new models. Apparently, sixty new car models from manufacturers all over the world were unveiled this week to journalists. Today, the show opened to the public. I've been to many of these shows, but this is the first year I've gone on opening day.

In several ways, going to the show on opening day was quite different. First and foremost, the crowds are unbelievably large, and the models/spokespersons have not had the opportunity to practice their performances. We witnessed more than one flubbed line... but the funniest moment was when one of the models closed the door on a concept car, and the sideview mirror fell off! I think that by going on the first day, the spokespeople were fresh - not yet jaded by the throngs, and seemed more willing to talk about the cars, and their reactions to being in close proximity, than they are to do this after eight or nine days of working the show.

It's a given at all these shows that the most exotic cars are safely stowed behind barriers. The message is clear - look, but don't touch. This year, the Ferrari people (at least on this night), did something I've never seen before. They allowed people from the audience to enter the enclosed area, two people at a time - each escorted by a company representative - and get close enough to the car to touch it, open the doors, and take personal photographs of the vehicle and its interior. Mind you, the line to get in to the exhibit was so long, there was no way I was going to stand there. Still, the gesture was appreciated. None of the other supercar manufacturers allowed anyone to approach their cars.

While on the subject of supercars, I got the chance to see some supercar concepts from Chrysler (the ME412, my main reason for going to the show, was worth the price of admission all on its own), Mitsubishi, Mercedes, Volkswagen, and Acura. The Acura NSX was on display, but couldn't hold a candle to their concept car. There were some very exotic (non-sportcar) concept cars, including one from Volkswagen that resembled a dune buggy in its body sculpting and suspension, but with doors that pivoted up like the ones on a Lamborghini. I got a good look at the Maseratis, the Bentleys and the lone Rolls-Royce. The model/spokesperson in the Rolls Royce exhibit was asked about "optional equipment". Her reply: "There are many choices, but no options". That was my favourite line of the afternoon.

I didn't see the Ford GT today (I looked, but didn't see it, despite the fact it was there, somewhere), though I did get a very close look at the new Shelby Cobra, which reportedly has a 650bhp engine. Spokesmen from Ford indicated the GT would be released as a production car next year, at a selling price of $150K (US), and that it would be the fastest production car in the world. That may be the case, but when the ME412 gets on the road, all bets are off. Published specs on the ME412 have it pushing out an incredible 850 bhp from its Mid-Engine 4-turbo V12 engine. It is designed to do 0-60 in 2.9 seconds, with a top speed of 400kph (248mph). My understanding is the GT has a top speed somewhere around 200 mph.

I'm rambling, but only because this show was a feast for the senses. Ironically, of all the awesome production and concept cars I saw today, the one that surprised me the most was a concept from Hyundai. It looked like it was just a year or two from production - didn't look far fetched at all - but it sure didn't look like any Hyundai I've ever seen. I imagine it would be the model for the next generation Tiburon. Even though it's only been a matter of hours since seeing the Hyundai concept car, I don't recall the grille being as pronounced as in the linked picture. The front end seemed smoother to me. Then again, I guess there has to be somewhere for air to get to the engine!

If you can't be at an auto show this year, and are interested in cars, this summary from AutoWeek magazine should fill your need for speed.

Not much happening (beyond everyday stress)

There's not much happening around here. Work is a bit stressful lately, with assignments dragging on far longer than I or my boss feel is reasonable. I've just had the most unbelievable string of bad luck - running into limitations with the programming tools I have at my disposal. It's nothing that a good training course couldn't fix, but what business has money to send people for training these days! It's so much easier for the boss to just lose his cool, fire you, and get someone else to take your place.

I'm normally not too concerned with my bosses' opinions, but since 1/5 of the staff has been let go since I moved back home, it's something that's on my mind.

The holiday's over

I've been working most of the holiday, with time off only for Christmas Day and New Year's Day. My wife, on the other hand, has been off for two straight weeks, and since I work from home, having her around has been almost like me being on vacation. Eating meals with her... having her wander in to my office to give me a peck on the cheek... and participating in short phone conversations that normally take place between family and friends during the holiday season - these things helped bring a little holiday spirit into my work day.

Today, she heads back to work. So, despite the fact I've been working most of the past two weeks, I guess it will feel like the holiday is finally over.

Dead man flapping

This news item seemed kind of gross! Whether the 81 year old victim was a prowler, or suffering from alzheimer's and simply lost his way home, it's still a weird way to go.

They arrived - but not in time for Christmas

I had ordered hand-painted reproductions of well-known paintings as a Christmas gift for my wife. They were ordered at the beginning of December, and I had hoped they'd arrive in time for Christmas. Due to a shipping snafu, they were sent to Ontario, New York, instead of Ontario, Canada. Needless to say, they floated around in limbo for a while before actually making it into Canada. Then, they were stuck at Canadian Customs over the Christmas holiday. We finally got them on Dec. 30th. After the paintings were ordered, I started searching for people who could do a good job of stretching and framing the work. I finally found someone, and today, we dropped off the paintings at the framer's gallery. They should be ready within the next two weeks.

Here are JPG's of the art we purchased:







We like the artist's work so much, we've already placed an order for an additional painting:




This could become an ongoing obsession, since my wife and I have similar tastes in art.

Year in Review

Overall, I've had a good year. The best thing to happen was moving back home and being allowed to telecommute. What's it like to be home? This should sum it up pretty well...



I know, I know... I'm pretty lucky to have such a fantastic family - a wife who loves me (and who I absolutely adore), great kids, fantastic grandkids. And the list goes on.

I hope everyone out there has a great new year, full of nothing but the best life has to offer. From my family to yours

Have a Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas Canada

In a move sure to win the hearts and minds of their customers, my ISP has delivered a really swell Christmas gift!

Tragic Earthquake

As a Jew, I have a distrust of mideast governments who make no bones about their feelings towards Israel. Still, as a human being, I am heartbroken when natural disasters cause widespread death among innocent civilians. I hope the government in Iran accepts help from any quarter, even Israel.

Update
The news keeps getting worse.

Update #2
I guess it was too much to expect.

Family Pride - Part 2

I just received the email below as forwarded by my sister. She's obviously proud of her son, Aaron, and I am too.

Update
The content of the email has been removed at my sister's request, but suffice to say he got a promotion.

It's just the latest step in his journey.

Merry Christmas and Happy Channukah

It's not that often that my wife's Christmas and my Channukah holidays coincide. I don't celebrate Channukah - I haven't since I was a kid. But I am still aware of its arrival, and having it come at a time when my wife is in full Christmas spirit makes things somehow a bit more tolerable. Don't get me wrong. I always love getting Christmas presents, and I'm usually as surprised as the recipient when people open gifts from me. It's just that much more enjoyable when I can mentally point at the calendar and think "this day is officially for me too".

Anyway, whatever your religious (or non-religious) persuasion, hope you have a good holiday season.

Walk like a man

I can walk! Oh sure, until this morning, I could hobble. But now, I can walk. I can perform the task of walking well enough to fool most people into thinking I always could! But you and I know better. It's been three weeks since I started taking the medication, and it seems to have done the trick. Most of the past two weeks have been relatively pain free (except when I over-reached my capabilities). Now, I think I should be able to climb stairs without much difficulty, having been able to successfully rise from a squatting position a short while ago.

Nigeria calling

Who here has not been spammed by "Nigerians" claiming that, with a small investment of your time and money, you will be rewarded with a huge windfall? Of course, nobody falls for this... or do they?

Can you imagine the greed of some people to actually believe this stuff?

Off to see the wizard

In a few minutes, I hit the road for a short trip to Toronto. I have to spend some face-time with my boss and colleagues, so what better time to go than coincident with the Christmas party?

See you back here Friday evening!

A leg up

My legs have not yet healed. Pain in the first knee (the one that has been sub-par for more than two weeks) is all but gone, even under stress. However, the additional stress placed on the remaining leg has taken its toll. Normally the weaker of the two legs, I had previously commented that it was now required to do much more work than it had ever done; and it has finally given out. My ankle on the other leg is so inflamed I can barely put weight on it, even as the knee on the other leg is just about ready to bear signicant weight. The net result is that my ability to walk is nearly as compromised as it was two weeks ago.

I write this as I wait for my wife to return with dinner. I couldn't muster enough energy to make it into the car.

Good news for Iraqis

Saddam has been captured. What better news could there be for this country where fear of retribution has kept some of the population from embracing peace and change. Ironically, I discovered the news of the capture through someone else's blog and thought it was a joke until I saw it confirmed on a news wire. I can't think of a better way to end the year.

Link Updates

Since changing my blog template, I've noticed the right-hand column has more room for longer blog names. So, I've decided to use the proper name for Warrior Princess' blog - "Pretty girl in the corner". Also, from Lux's blogroll, a new entry on my list... Anne ... straight from the hip.

As usual, enjoy!

This is a job for Nocho-man

Technical discussions in this household are always a hoot. As a professional in the IT industry, I tend to be somewhat more aware of the proper terminolgy than say, my wife. Don't get me wrong. She's unbelievably talented and for someone who is completely self-taught, her IT knowledge is impressive. But there are those times when she'll just pull a word out of the air to perfectly describe a situation.

Today's discussion revolved around digital cameras. We have never purchased software such as PhotoShop to process our images; relying instead on the bundled shareware utilities delivered with the camera. In comparing our Canon Powershot S400 Digital Elph to the Kodak Easyshare CX4230 my wife uses at work, she made the point that the Kodak's flash is weak, and pictures tend to come out underexposed. According to her, this camera so routinely takes underexposed pictures; she doesn't even bother to look at them until they have had compensation applied by the photo software. In describing this process, she matter-of-factly stated that each snapshot requires "two notches on the notchometer".

Bless her heart!

I kneed to be alone

Thank you to those who've left comments about my leg and it's recuperation. It's Saturday, the day I thought I'd be back to normal. And I am much better than I was on Thursday; but I still can't use the bad knee to lift myself out of my chair. To be precise, the injured leg was the stronger of the two. The other leg just wasn't accustomed to the leadership role.

It's funny how we take things for granted. When climbing stairs, for example, I'd always lead off with the stronger leg, to get that boost to start things going. Now, I'm finding stair climbing difficult, because the current strong leg is barely up to the task of being the leader. What's worse, is that when I'm in a period of absolutely no pain, I forget about the bad leg, and use it the way I normally would. Instant, debilitating pain stops me in my tracks, reminding me I have some way to go.

What all this is leading to is that this weekend, instead of visiting with my sister and her hubby or my in-laws, I think I'll just try to take it easy on my own.

Give me some credit

I got a letter from Visa in yesterday's mail. They were writing to inform me that my credit limit had been raised (I was only using about 1/10th of my available limit as it was); and the letter included some "cheques" that could be used to transfer balances from other cards. According to the letter, these transferred balances would get a preferred rate for the next 6 months.

These letters come all the time, but last night, I was just in a bit of a funny mood, so I decided to write back to the sender. In my response, I used a mixture of humour and light sarcasm to characterize the love-hate relationship I've had with credit-card companies over the past 30 years or so. It seems those companies love the fact that I carry a high balance and always make my payments on time. And I hate the fact that, despite my perfect payment practices, I get lumped in with the statistical masses and have to pay exhorbitant interest rates.

So, in my letter, I asked for a break. I suggested they should be perfectly happy to get a guaranteed return of 4.9% annual APR from my account, without having to worry about being stiffed; and I'd be happy to get a reduced rate. I'll let you know what they decide.

Slowly he turned...

My leg is improving. Day-by-day, I can feel the improvement, as the constant, excrutiating pain has given way to stabs of pain when I turn my leg too suddenly, to a dull pain that can be tolerated unless I forget my leg is still sore.

I can now get out of my chair without aid of crutches, though I still can't put much weight on the bad leg while the knee is bent. When fully straightened, my leg is well enough to hobble on, without much discomfort. I must have just been beyond the threshold where pain begins, which explains why I'm feeling better after only a few days on meds. At this rate, I should be back to normal by Saturday. Meanwhile, I know that the overall cure won't be effective unless I finish the entire course of treatment.