Category Archives: Rant

Too Many Pills…

Sometimes, I feel that doctor’s got a cue from Monty Hall when it comes to prescriptions, and there are days where I walk into the office and feel like I just walked onto the set of “Let’s Take A Pill”. I’m not really sure if this is insurance driven, the pharmacology companies pushing more medication or if the doctors really think that this form of treatment is the answer to solve all that ails me.

Then, as a good patient, we start taking our pills, swallowing down whatever it is that they told us is going to fix the problem, only to have to end up taking others in order to counteract the side effects of the ones we are taking, which then cause us other issues and.. well, you get the idea.

For instance… I am currently taking a diabetes medication, a cholesterol medication and a blood pressure medication. My blood sugar is about where it was 20 years ago, elevated but if those numbers changed a wee bit (less than a percent) I would be outside the scope (and by the way, that has actually happened in the past). My cholesterol is a bit high.. ok, in days gone by I liked my hamburgers, pizza and other fun (read…unhealthy) food. So that one, sure. Got it.

Then there is the blood pressure medicine. My blood pressure is fine, like spot on fine. 120/80 kind of spot on. Hasn’t changed in so long I can tell the nurse taking my pressure exactly what it’s going to be (plus or minus 3 points). So, why am I taking this? Because one of the other pills I am taking has a chance to raise another number that is slightly elevated (but normal) and he is concerned that it could cause me problems.


I’m like… what?

Then there is the scenario about my shoulder. It hurts. Like bad enough I actually went to the doctor to tell him it hurt and it wasn’t even falling off (Yep, one of ‘those’ guys). I get an MRI done, I get my evaluation. The doc says, “It’s an impingement caused by a bone spur.” Great I think, hoping this doesn’t mean surgery, but before I could say anything, he finishes with, “We won’t be doing surgery because we can’t see the bone spur. So, instead, I’m going to give you a cortisone shot and schedule you for physical therapy.”


So, there I am, sitting on the paper covered table with him looking at me in all seriousness, telling me that an MRI couldn’t see the bone spur, but this invisible bone spur was what was causing my issue and his answer is to inject me with something and send me away.

I’m not a huge fan of needles, and I have heard enough about this cortisone that I am really not for it. However, my wife is in the room with me and she is all like.. “Yeah, lets do that. That sounds like a plan.”, and in my head I am shooting daggers at her, which by some odd coincidence happened to be about the size of the needle that this doctor ended up sticking me in the shoulder with.

Guess what?

The cortisone shot hasn’t done anything for me. Big win Mr. Doctor, sir. Plus, you know… more daggers.

Now, I like my primary doctor. He is funny, a nice guy, listens to me and tries to calm my over active hypochondriacal ways. Plus, he is a reservist, so bonus points there. All I’m saying is.. instead of taking a chill pill, can we just chill with the pill?

Seriously, he couldn’t see the bone spur…


Ok, I’m not sure what I did. Maybe you have done it too… I hope you haven’t.. however..

I happen to be writing both the blogs that I have posted today (not including this one of course), open in separate windows at the same time (using the new interface, just in case you were wondering). So, I posted the first one a while ago, and as life tends to go, got busy before I got back to finishing up my next one.

So, this is where it gets messy. Continue reading Seriously??

Rants, Regrets and Regurgitation about Remakes

Nothing can be quite as annoying as having to watch something that has been remade from a childhood memory that you love and adored. Over the last few summers, I have had the pure privilege (read that as sarcasm) of watching Hollywood rape my childhood memories and twist and contort them into some flash in the pan excuse to separate me from my money. Continue reading Rants, Regrets and Regurgitation about Remakes

Stuck.. again.

The feeling of stuck has somehow absorbed me recently. I look at the screen, type a few words, read what I typed then delete it. This has gone on for at least 4 days now. It’s different than when I am just not happy with what I write. This is something where I just can’t seem to put together my thoughts. The mumble jumble of my brain crying out in fifteen different directions.

Sure, the topics help to at least point me in a direction (granted, as of late, the daily post topics have not really been my forte), but as I start to write, something happens. Maybe its the distracted life I live. Always having to go do this or that. Not having the time to really just shut the world out and concentrate on something for a length of time. Continue reading Stuck.. again.


There are things that I want to write that I don’t.

There are times when a thought comes to my mind and I mull it over, flipping it this way and that, tearing it apart and think to myself,

“Self, that would be awesome.. but…”

And yes, I do actually call myself ‘self’ when I am talking to.. um..myself.

Myself (just had to do it one more time).

I had this conversation with my wife the other day after I had written a piece that was very intense, but included thoughts that would just not be acceptable by the group of people who I associate with. It was real, it was gritty, it was intense.

It was erased.

I felt.. I don’t know. I felt wrong? I guess that’s the word I should use. Like if I posted this piece people would judge me or look at me differently, or disassociate with me.. or associate my writing with a walking away from my beliefs.

I’m not.

Just so you know.

I still believe in Jesus. I still have faith in what He did for me on the cross, the tomb and the rest. I’m not angry at God, the church, or the people of the church, and I still go at least every Sunday.

But… therein lies the issue. I have been a volunteer youth minister for most of my adult life. I lead my current churches youth group for over 3 years. I have students who, I assume, still look up to me. But I want to be real in my writing.

For instance, right now, I am struggling with even posting this, so if you are reading this, well, I won.. lost.. or.. something.. that particular battle. Will it go to my Facebook, Twitter, or any of the other social media hubs that I post my work on? I don’t know. (FYI, I’m writing this at 3:08 on Friday, October 10th.. so… )

Am I wrong for having this desire for freedom in my expression? Am I wrong for not wanting to be the stumbling block that may cause some of my students to look at me (or God) different? Am I wrong for even thinking (or being arrogant enough to think) that I could cause that?

I’ve thought about creating a pen name. Well, actually, I should say I have thought about finally using the name I came up with years ago. I just don’t know if that is the answer or a cop-out.

Granted, I don’t even know if I am good enough to have to worry about that, cause who knows if anyone actually reads my stuff. (no, that’s not self-loathing or a call for comfort, just a reality check on my ego.. of sorts)

Maybe I just put too much pressure on myself… wouldn’t be the first time in my life I had an over inflated sense of self. I don’t think I do it on purpose, but it’s more out of a sense of responsibility… a responsibility that I take very seriously. At least, I think I do.

I know others have done it. Merged their faith with their writing, and have been successful at it. I just don’t know how to do it and remain true to me.. the writing.. the idea… something like that.

(the following part was added today 10/23)

I’ve had several days to stew over this, still not sure if I should post it. It’s pretty open about my struggles and, as I have said, I know people I know read this.. (I know, I know, too many knows…)… I’m a little more at rest inside myself these last few days, almost as if just admitting this has been cathartic (question, is that a combination of catholic and cardiac? Like the way I assume one would feel going into a confessional? anyway…)

In the end I think I have to just come to terms with It is going to be what it is going to be. And if I am happy with what it is, than that should be ok.

Now, anyone got any advice on how to be happy with my own writing?

Seriously? Anyone?