Questions and answers

What do you think, he asked, Would you want to know?

I was about to answer instantly, but stopped to organize my answer and by doing so, clarify my thoughts on the matter. My mind raced around the idea so I could quickly form an intellegent response and not leave my father hanging on the other end of the telephone call with empty air.

He was calling about mom, and gene testing in particular, and whether I'd want to know if, through the process she would soon be undertaking, it were discovered that I was genetically predisposed to whatever degenerative condition she is slowly losing ground, would I want to know that now, at the present, while I am healthy and active and with the rest of my life ahead of me. I thought I knew my answer to his question, it seemed straight forward, but I stumbled when I started to speak, obviously not entirely certain.

Sure, I said, Why not? We blindly go through so much of this life not knowing what might be around the next bend, and while that certainly makes things interesting and far from dull, we can't escape the fact that one day each of us will reach the end of our journey here, and maybe by knowing ahead of time, perhaps early enough for science and medicine to provide assistance, we can lessen or maybe even eliminate much of what mom is currently going through. Shouldn't we give it a shot? Maybe it's just me, but I' d rather know my enemy going into a fight if I had the opportunity.

I've been sick again this week, thanks to the boy; we each had kicked that cold finally and were returning to feeling like our normal energetic and capable selves (well except for last weekend's migraine, but that's almost my new normal these days anyways) when Tuesday afternoon he returned home from school sniffling and blowing his nose with increasing frequency, and then coughing that deep chesty productive cough... Just my luck, I went from migraine to sinus headache and cold symptoms overnight.

I blame February and its final arctic blast that it threw at us this week, more bitter cold temperatures just when it seemed we were making progress. The days are getting longer and there's warmth in the sun's rays finally too; more birds singing in the morning light, and the squirrels are more active again on the wires and in the highway of branches in the skies out back, but once again we're reminded that we aren't the ones in charge here really, and we're forced to bundle up again or still, and leave that wishful Springtime thinking for later days.

Kinda like mom. The doctor's are still trying to provide her and dad with a definite diagnosis for her condition; she's lost most of the use of her lower extremities now and relies on a wheelchair for mobility, and her memory and judgement have certainly been affected by something as well, whether from the same disease or issue they aren't certain, so testing is ongoing as they try and put some label on her increasingly declining physical and mental health. The experts certainly aren't in the know, and mom is most definitely not in control of her fate at this point, that much is obvious.

Dad was also calling to get my input on the hospital's request for background family medical history as a tool to help them zero in on her diagnosis. She'll be visiting the Genetics Clinic here in the city next month, and as a first step in their attempt to provide an accurate clinical diagnosis of her condition as well as treatment options and the likelihood of recurrence of the condition in family members, they have forwarded a form for dad to fill out and bring with them. It asks for a basic family tree of sorts for mom, and along with the usual names and birthdates and dates of death of her mother and father and siblings and their children and her grandparents and dad's parents and siblings etc, they'd like any relevant medical information that might be useful in helping them with their work.

Not exactly a simple task at the best of times, nevermind one month before said appointment.

But, you do what you have to do, and since I've got a file folder full of family history facts, he called me and I promised him I'd find what he needs as best I can with what I have in my posession, but we both knew he'd be making a few phonecalls in the coming weeks asking for help from the ones who are usually there when you need them at times like these: your family.

So he'll be foraging along the branches of our family tree asking questions in search of information that may yield the fruits of medical knowledge of mom's affliction, like those squirrels in the trees out back: Hoping for Spring, but finding Mom's Winter still in full force.

I think I'd want to know the answers to those questions long before they needed to be answered, don't you?

Keeping track of things

It was one of those typical February weeks last week, the kind that brings a mixed bag of weather - it started off way above normal with lots of melting and warm temperatures that shrunk the snow on the roofs and backyards to more manageable depths, and if we weren't careful we could have been lulled into that false sense of security and made to believe that was the end of winter; that spring was just around the corner, but we know better. And true to form, after a few days of flirting with that lovely spirit, Spring, we returned to face our long term partner, Winter, with windchills and extreme blizzard conditions by weeks end.

I welcomed that warmth of the early week as I visited the hospital on Tuesday morning for a CT Scan of my brain, an attempt by my family physician to get as much information about where I am currently, physiologically, regarding the recurring headaches and migraines and maybe rule some things out once the scan results come back this week, or maybe the scans will shed some light on an unknown issue that is affecting me. Either way, I hope we learn something. I'm looking forward to seeing the scans firsthand actually, and I'm not sure if that's normal or not. I think it would be fascinating to see what's what inside my head. At least I hope there's something in there...

As the temperatures dropped, I followed up the CT Scan with a round of bloodwork on Friday morning, the last bits and pieces of the puzzle for the doc to use in helping me figure out whats going on. Having a benchmark for those frequently discussed numbers like blood-sugar and cholesterol, and the like can't hurt. Though it may open my eyes to where I really am healthwise as opposed to where I think I am. I know that is a good thing also, delusion is never healthy. Let's see where I'm at, then go from there. On one hand I want to know theses things, to get a real sense of where I am at, but on the other there's a lovely security in remaining oblivious to your reality - though one can only hide in that frame of mind for so long before reality takes a nasty swing at you once more.

With the tests behind me I looked forward to a relaxing weekend with only a few items of note on the family schedule - the final regular season hockey game for the boy Saturday afternoon (they lost and now playoffs start this coming Saturday), and an out of town practice on Sunday morning - both were things I enjoy, getting out and watching the game as well as the social aspect that surrounds the whole process of a hockey season. Theses people become a bit like family after 4 months - you didn't choose them, and some you have to put up with, but for the most part they are good people with good kids and you're better off for having known them.

I should have known better.

The headache that struck me late Friday night was much more like some other family members perhaps, it arrived uninvited and stayed way too long, and didn't leave me with any relaxing free time, regardless of my fairly light schedule. I'm still fighting some pain today, having enjoyed the sensation of being woken up out of a decent night's sleep by the pounding of the blood vessels as the medications wore off. This bout has been difficult to treat effectively, nothing seems to offer any lasting relief, but that's part of the process too, I suppose. I'm keeping a diary of symptoms and weather conditions and foods I've eaten as the headaches progress, should something reveal itself to me through the introspection.

You can learn a great deal about yourself if you keep track of things and pay close enough attention.

I've learned that I get cranky in the hours leading up to a headache - but that's difficult to use as a precursor - thanks to a decently sarcastic nature that lurks beneath the surface, but even I know when I'm more off base than usual, so maybe we'll keep an eye on that. I've also seen a correlation to craving certain foods - like salty snacks and dense carbs - not that I'm going out looking for salt licks to get my fix - but I am cautious whether the salt cravings are an indicator of something about to happen, or if my giving in to the craving and the increased sodium intake has a cause and effect relationship on the pressure and pain and light and noise sensitivity.

For now I'll press on, and do what I can to maintain as normal a routine as possible, and watch the world around me and see how it affects me. That's pretty much what I do anyways, only now I'm keeping more formal notes on the process.

So welcome to another typical February week. The weather is predictably unpredictable, and affecting my health just as unpredictably. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather flirt with Spring a while longer and leave these winter related issues far behind me. But we don't get to choose, do we. Like the CT Scan and the bloodwork - I've done as much as I can do; now I'll just have to wait and see what becomes of it, and deal with it when the time comes.

But I'll warn you if I'm feeling cranky...

Honest Change

I kept one eye on the World stage this week, knowing that history of some sort or another was being made, while going about my week, and I certainly could not have predicted the week's outcome in Egypt on Monday, I doubt many could have forseen the way things played out, least of all the people in the streets protesting the existing conditions and seeking real, lasting, changes to the way the world's oldest civilization has been governed.

Sometimes that's the way it goes. Those who are desperately seeking something seem to be the most surprised when they get that very thing. We're used to things always being the way they are, the way they've always been, certain, comfortable - even if conditions are harmful or unhealthy - change is difficult; even though it is the only sure thing we'll ever know, change is our biggest obstacle to finding peace with our lot in life.

We're feeling like bears again in these early days of February, our natural instincts causing us to eat more and crave more substantial, starchy foods, fatty foods so we store enough energy to last the harsh winter days our ancestors were accustomed to, and to which our genes have been adapted, and we feel sluggish and slow and moderately depressed in the low light, long dark days, even though we're seeing more evidnce of Spring on the horizon. We know we ought to change our ways, exercise more and eat more healthier, better foods, but we find ourselves unable to change, the anticipated difficulty of recreating ourselves seemingly more painful than the certain detrimental damage we're causing to our bodies should we continue to ignore the signs and remain where we are.

We tell ourselves we'll do what needs to be done, that we'll consciously change our approach, that with the longer days and warmer weather we'll revert back to our more active selves. But the truth is that we are demanding changes that we, as of yet on some level, do not fully believe we can accomplish, and we sabotauge our efforts because it's easier than facing ourselves honestly and courageously doing what needs to be done.

A world away, an oppressed people rally against the political staus quo, demanding change, demonstrating en masse, publicly declaring their wishes; their hopes; their dreams of freedom to choose. And to their surprise, the wheels of change begin to slowly turn in their favor, and they celebrate the sweet victory they've won. Meanwhile we struggle privately with ourselves, with something we have absolute control over, and find little solace in our efforts.

Maybe it's time we look in the mirror and finally admit that it's easier to demand change of others than of ourselves, but that if we really want anything to be different than what it is today, we have to get honest and be accountable to ourselves, and start today.

No one else will ever demand those changes for us.

Rinkside

I'm sittng in a cold, cavernous, steel building on a Tuesday evening in February, watching 12 year old boys learn and practice the fine skills of our true national sport, hockey, and I wonder if they know how lucky they are. They aren't the top level of players at this age, these boys are one level below 'the best', which at this age may be due to size, strength, desire or, sadly, parental political interference, and they know this, and I'm sure it plays on their minds at times, but they work hard (most of them) and skate fast and enjoy the hitting and physicaity that this level of the game allows them.

I watch as they pass and shoot and work through the drills designed to help them improve their basic skills, and those drawn up to accelerate the team based aspects of the game, and its easy to forget that this is indeed a game they are playing, as the drills could be mistaken by an outsider to be some form of punishment, and the shouts of the coaches, perhaps verbal abuse, if taken out of context.

Games are supposed to be fun, enjoyable pastimes; distractions from reality and not forced tests of physical endurance and intestinal fortitude. But our society, no longer the warrior classes of ancient history, still finds a thrill in victory - be it a game of checkers vs a sibling, or with more civic pride and bragging rights on the line: professional sports franchises vying for the National Title. But there should be a difference between what is 'expected' of an employee (player) employed by a professional business enterprise (the team) versus kids playing and learning a game for physical fitness and personal enjoyment. Unfortunately that line gets blurry the older the kids get, or the more skilled the players are within a given age group.

So the governing bodies draft codes of conduct for coaches, players and spectators, ensuring everyone involved in amateur athletics understands and behaves properly for the betterment of all involved - but that's the utopian ideal. The reality is usually much different, with sports becoming a way of life, and other interests, hobbies and pursuits getting left behind in the athletic wake. A healthy balance is what is needed; our goal should be to create independent, critical thinking, productive members of society, who can contribute to the greater whole. Travel, the arts, educational, religious and cultural studies should be encouraged as well as athletics if we as a society are to continue pushing boundaries and creating positive, lasting, caring change.

A slapshot rattles of the crossbar behind the goalie, and the puck ricochets up and off the plexiglas behind the net, and I'm brought back to the present reality. The shooter, frustrated that he has missed his intended target, slams his stick on the ice and hangs his head as he swoops behind the goal, retrieves the errant puck and returns back to the drill in progress, a few good natured jokes and jabs are thrown his way as he joins the rest of his teammates, and I smile a contented smile, having been on both sides of the exchange before.

I realize that one can't dismiss these kinds of experiences - failure at a task brings about a focussed energy and a desire to improve. These are life lessons in short form. It isn't just about physical skill and execution. There's more happening out on the ice than you first realize - and even one who has played and practiced as these young men are tonight sometimes forgets that.

They're learning the subtlties of teamwork and dedication. Of hard work and self discipline; checking ones ego at the door for the good of the team. And while few of them currently realize the value of this education they are receiving on these winter evenings, they will someday, and then they too will look back fondly as they sit in the bleachers watching their sons and daughters play this sport, or any sport for that matter, and smile and wonder if those kids know how lucky they are...

Snow Days

We had a little bit of every kind of weather this week, bitter cold windchills of more than 40 below (either temperature scale, take your pick) combined with snow squalls and white out conditions, followed by a couple days of melting complete with rain that promptly froze into a layer of instant ice. Welcome to February.

But while the majority of the continent was digging out from under all that white stuff while stuck at home on snow days; work closed and school cancelled - we sat alone it seemed, marvelling at the weird weather all around us, enjoying the above freezing temperatures long enough to realize that melting in February means ice dams and leaky roofs if you aren't careful, then we grabbed the roof rakes and shovels and headed back outside.

More kids (and parents too) called in sick this week; still victims of that cursed cold that has us all in its clutches - you saw the effect of all this first hand whenever you were out, but especially at the local hockey rink, where all the teams played with shortened benches, and you saw and heard the young charges hacking and coughing and wiping their noses and leaving a trail of germiness behind them on the bench; their coaches fearing for their own safety, as well as trying to figure out how to ice a competitive team while juggling the short of breath with the few healthy players left.

We ventured out mid morning yesterday, running errands on a Saturday before the eventual crowds became too much to bear, and I almost became a statistic while walking in the hatched crosswalk area at Home Depot - Mr "I've got an urgent home repair problem and can't be bothered to stop for pedestrians" plowed right on through as we walked towards the store, never looking anywhere around him; oblivious to the world; an idiot in an idiot's paradise apparently. We shook our heads and continued on, minding the icy footing below, and went about buying the electrical bits and pieces we came for - adding an undercabinet light to the new office cabinetry - a job for another weekend.

It wasn't much better at the grocery store just across the parking lot, but at least in there the worst you're going to get is maybe a cart load of Super Bowl goodies slammed into your backside as you step around the loitering shoppers while trying to dodge the Commando super-mom with her shopping game face on. It could have been worse, there could have been a stroller...

Stopping at the stop light on our way to return the wrong style HDMI cables, we were treated to the sight of one of those lovely specimens, the impatient driver who desperately needs to time the changing of light to the point where he's now 2 car lengths in front of the stop line, and half way through the intersection, bobbing forward in place like a toddler doing the pee pee dance, and behind him is another, inching forward, right on his bumper, both waiting for the green light so they can spin out and turn into the mall, and find those elusive available parking spaces before anyone else. They must be in the zone.

Then there was the car, driven by one of the more senior members of society, turning left on the green arrow, inches away from running over the two university students walking across the crosswalk on the end of 'walk' signal - sure somebody was in the wrong, maybe the girls were late in getting across, but a few seconds of the drivers time shouldn't be that much to ask for in the name of courtesy and safety, should it?

Have we become that distracted? Are we that impatient that we can't pay just a wee bit more attention to the world around us and put our own interests on hold and "all just get along?" Where's the fire? What's the rush? Better yet, what's the point? What kind of society are we creating as we almost take out pedestrians with our SUV's in our hectic, stress-inducing haste to get it all done, and get it all done now? Have we lost so much contact with each other that we've forgotten the basic tenants of human kindness?

It's easy to shake your head in wonder at the audacity of some of those around us - they make it so easy! and who hasn't felt pity for those poor souls, while at the same time taking some bit of superior satisfaction that it wasn't you (this time)? I'm fairly certain the shoe has been on the other foot, hasn't it? You've been that guy at Home Depot before - you just never bothered to notice who you cut off, or who you almost ran over. And you've also been that impatient lead-footed Nascar wannabe at the stop light, roaring away from the line to God knows where, too fast for everyone's good, and too absorbed in your own story to see, let alone care, about everyone else around you, inches from taking out the two university students crossing the side street.

Maybe that's why we get those weird storms that bring snow days to a 2000 mile stretch of humanity from Texas, across the midwest and on into the Maritimes. If we aren't willing to slow down and be a little more respectful of each other of our own volition, maybe someone or something else will, under the guise of another foot of snow, or that sudden onset of chest pain. Maybe its a warning. Life gives you what you need, when you need it - maybe it's time we paid attention to what we are getting and slowed down long enough to figure out why.

I'll thank you the next time I'm crossing the street.