Farewell ‘07

It is with great joy in my heart that I bid a not-so-fond farewell to 2007.  This year, quite frankly, has sucked.  I thought it was going to be a good year.  January was the first month that I went completely without my cane (from my Staph infection last year), my Peroneal Neuropathy was completely gone.  I felt like the crappy end to 2006 would make way for a great 2007.  About two months into 2007, I realized that I was wrong.

Back in the hospital with pneumonia twice in just a couple of months.  A few other bouts of pneumonia that I refused to go to the hospital for even though my doctor nearly begged me.  I was through with hospital and wasn’t about to be stuck anymore.  I was suprised that I even had any blood left after my last few hospitalizations.  I guess the two blood transfusions helped top me off when I was running on empty.

The fun continued for months until April when I had what I thought would be my final bout of pnuemonia.  
It wasn’t nearly as harsh as the other times and I was feeling strong and healthy.  I had an ECCO in July which let me know that my Endocarditis would remain inoperative and told that I could resume all normal activities.  There seemed to be no more breaking off of the junk into my lungs, so I was happy that it finally decided to leave me the hell alone.

April also brought me three deaths back to back.  Week after week nearly I got news of someone who died 
from cancer, a couple of weeks later a family member who died in her sleep from some strange combination 
of prescription medication mixed with benadryl.  To think that someone can take something for allergies 
and never wake up is still scary to me.  A couple of weeks after that, more news of death… this time a 
friend to suicide.  A hanging of all things.  It was a very traumatic and strange time in my life.

For weeks after the news of Stacey’s suicide, I would jerk away to a loud knocking sound and a vision of feet swinging.  It is something that I would never wish on anyone… a completely miserable way to start your day.  I became afraid of death… I would think about death and literally become scared; I would get goosebumps and I even began to have no desire to go to bed… completely out of fear.  Wendy died in her sleep, so I nearly feared sleep.  I was later told, to no suprise that their fear was anxiety and completely normal, but I don’t recall ever being this afraid for days on end.

Last year, I was told that I was about 24 hours away from possible brain damage and about 48 hours 
away what could have become a lethal Staph infection.  I got Staph in my right knee and the first night 
that I was hospitalized, they had an extremely inexperienced douche bag come in to butcher my knee.  
They hadn’t given me any medication and wouldn’t until they had confirmed results of what was wrong.  
He had at least four inches worth of needle stabbing under my knee cap as I screamed out in pain.  I 
pulled on the sides of the bed so hard during the procedure that I injured two fingers, nearly breaking 
my index finger.  Believe it or not the only thing that distracted me is my husband deciding to ask me 
questions about JavaScript… I swear, I am not making that bit up.

The next day, I literally could not move I was in pain from head to toe.  The Staph had spread into my 
blood and I felt it in every inch of my body.  It hurt to lift my finger… if I was ever left alone, someone 
would have to leave the nurse pager in my hand, because I couldn’t life my arms I was in so much pain.  
And this was even after I was on an IV injection of a pain killer, Dillaudid, which is commonly used on 
cancer patients and is supposed to be stronger than Morphine.  For the first week, I seemed like nothing 
more than baby aspirin.  I had a series of tests and would beg them not to move me because I hurt so bad.  
I had a heart rate of 115-120 for a couple of days so they decided to do a TEE (http://www.heartsite.com/html/tee.html).  This is when I was admitted to the Cardiology ward and put on round the clock heart monitoring and was diagnosed with Endocarditis that was a side affect of the Staph infection.

I couldn’t even stand for over a week and it took me two weeks to start walking again.  That was in October
 of last year.  By December, I was almost completely off of my cane and had stopped my first round of IV 
antibiotics that month as well.  I had a PIC-LINE in my right arm for two months… the strangest things… it goes into a vein on the inside of your 
upper arm and they run this tube like five or six inches up into an artery in your shoulder.  This way the 
medicine went straight to my heart.  So, for those two months, 4 times a day I would have to inject 
four huge syringes full of medication and heparin into the long tube that I kept bandaged up on my arm. It made for a few interesting stares at work… Ha!

So, you can see why I welcomed 2007 with big, open arms.  This year has flown by and to be honest I 
am glad that it has, because to be quite blunt… it sucked.

I fear what the beginning of 2008 holds for me and my family; I have two family members battling cancer and one who is currently in the hospital now for the duration… literally counting the days.  I haven’t even called him since he’s been in…  I have completely isolated myself because I just do not want to deal with anymore death and depression.   I am not so naive to think that everyone will live forever, but I just wish that the people I loved didn’t have to suffer or be in pain.

I will again welcome this New Year with open arms… I just hope that this time next year, this entry has 
a completely different message.

I wish everyone a fantastic and safe New Year.   Take care of yourselves…

my grandpa

i can’t sleep. i don’t know why… i have many thoughts in my mind.  my grandpa, in short, is dying. i’m not trying to be morbid, but truth is he’s 90 with recurring cancer on chemo and alzheimers. i seriously love my grandpa; he is an amazing man. i always loved hearing his stories, listening to him sing and play guitar.

my grandpa used to make guitars… by hand. he had all the tools in his garage and one christmas he gave each of his 9 kids a guitar that he had made. i would LOVE to have something that he made; especially since I play guitar. he is such an inspiration. i remember my dad binding all kinds of sheet music and lyrics that my grandpa had written and/or saved… my dad put them into a 3-ring binder as a gift… a few binders actually.

i learned how to play piano on the piano that still sits in his home. i was spending the night and learned how to play “mary had a little lamb” at around six years old; i called my mom and dad to play over the phone… i remember being so excited… feeling so accomplished.

now i write my own music and play guitar regularly. the last time i was visitting my grandparents before my grandpa got sick, he and i went into a back room and played guitar and sang. i played a couple of my orginals and he harmonized and played guitar and mandolin… both of which he had made. i will remember that forever.

i remember seeing johnny cash and hearing johnny cash as a child and thinking it was my grandpa. maybe that is why i like johnny cash so much now days. i’m going to call and see if i can get some copies of my grandpa singing and playing guitar… i know that he used to make a lot of tapes and such.

i hope i get the chance to play with him just one more time. if not, i will cherish that one last time… in the back room… just me and him… alone with our music.

musicianshi{t|p}

I went to see Rocco Deluca recently at The Social.  I really love that guy.  I first learned of him through the rockumentary starring his record labels celeb owner/(misguided)operator, Keifer Sutherland.  Keifer guides the band on a run of shittie venues that are not well marketed playing for bar-hopping-music-”listeners” that are in their late 30’s/early-mid 40’s.  Not that the music that Rocco and his band play is not easily enjoyed across the generations, but when you starting out and getting people to “start” listening to a band, you don’t go to bars where are the yocals are expecting to see some local good ol’ boys do covers of the same songs they listen to every other night on the damn digital “kickbox”.

There are some rather funny parts of the dvd, even though I think it should have had more “music”… the best are the drunken nights of celebratory music and beer that lead Keifer to regularly lose personal property, namely cellphones.  You kind of wonder if the entire cast of 24 (or better yet, The Lost Boys) get prank calls at 4a.m.  His pore choice of venues kind of echo what friends and family seem to utter throughout the documentary:  that even famous actors sometimes have no clue what the fuck they’re doing from one day to the next.

And the best insight of all into Rocco’s songwriting is summed up in one single question about his harboring anger towards his ever fleeting model mother and musician father which left him being raised by a grandmother.   He responds that he is not angered by his mother leaving home and his father traveling, the interviewee then proceeds with:  “The where does all of the anger in your lyrics come from.”  Rocco smiles and says slightly, “Well, then, maybe I am.”

I got to shake Mr. Deluca’s hand in a quick meet and greet after the show.  You can tell that he is tired and would probably rather not be bothered by all the passerbys, but he stands smiling none the less.  And he should be tired… he played an intense show and one that is exhausting to watch:  he feels what he is playing and knows what he is singing like no other… it is as if he is reliving it in every chord he plays.

I had to laugh out loud when I heard a guy trying desperately hard to impress a girl that he was with:  “all he was doing was playing chords with a glass slide”.  This shmuck was obviously not only not getting laid, but not paying attention to the lyrics, watching the musicianship or paying attention to any of the entire show.  I guess he was too busy checking out his lady friends ass, because, well it was worth checking out.  Rocco Deluca is/was not “just” playing chords with a glass slide, he is playing a sound that not many artists have ventured out to master:  Appalachian/rock/blues/funk with just enough pop to get on the radio if that comes their way.

I’ll be honest I hate “bands” that have a person’s name:  John Mayer, Dave Matthews… I don’t know why, it just annoys me.  Rocco Deluca is a name made for hanging on a billboard sign outside of a venue, but luckily it even works with “…and the Burden”.  “The Burden” also seems to work, because you kind of get the sense that his music is a way to make the carrying of all of the burdens in his life lighter and easier to pack away while on tour.