August
18 , 2008.
Okay - I need to clear things up a bit here. All my riding
life, I've been teased about my selection of glasses/sunshades
that I choose to wear. This is not a fashion show dudes;
it is not a competition either. I don't give a rat's ass
what I look like with my overly large windshields covering
my eyes. In fact, I like to be the trendsetter. Years
ago, long before large shades were in style, I was wearing
my "Jackie Os" (as in Jackie Onassis). And I
have always worn wayfarers, because I thought they were
funky, plus they covered my eyes really well, not allowing
the wind and bugs to get underneath the rims. So, please,
enough already - cut me some slack with the windshield
jokes. Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary?
August
13 , 2008.
It's
been a long time since the last entry, I know. Things
have been hectic here, writing. It's been raining for
the last couple of days, off and on, and I'm having phantom
pain - lots of it. I grit my teeth and try to move around
to get it to go away.
Beef
of the day (yet again) - smokers that toss their cigarette
butts out car windows. I could just kill them. Classic
cigarette-out-the-car-window-while-I'm-riding-my-bike-rage.
And I'm not afraid to approach them and call them on it
either. Maybe not the most intelligent of actions, but
someone has to wake those assholes up - they have such
a lack of respect for other drivers and our Mother Earth.
It should warrant a fine just as littering does.They campaign
for smokers rights. They should learn how to act
right first.
July
30, 2008.
Well,
I had my first oncology appointment yesterday, here in
Ontario. I now have a doctor to follow me. I was very
anxious prior to the appointment, for obvious reasons,
but mainly about my fear of having a panic attack while
waiting for my appointment. Was doing great until I finished
the novel I was reading. Then, in walked a lady with the
clear little chemo I.V baggie and Whammo - I
had a panic attack right there.
For
those of you that have never experienced a panic attack
let me assure you, they are not pleasant. What it is,
is a surge of adrenalin, which in turn causes a myriad
of symptoms - physiological responses in your body. For
me, it is a rapid heartbeat, where it feels as though
my heart is going to pound right out of my chest, a tingling
sensation at the top of my head, dizziness, shortness
of breath, nausea and sweating. To offset a panic attack,
one needs to move - to physically expend energy. This
helps to dissipate the adrenalin, which then lessens the
physical symptoms.
Seeing
the oncology department FULL of people is truly disheartening.
Every person in there has been touched by cancer. I almost
walked out. I opted to tap my feet, twiddle my thumbs,
anything to disperse that adrenalin. My mind wandered
back to my treatment, to the long-ago days when I first
found out about the tumour. The day I had to go see the
oncologist in Quebec City, I passed by a young woman in
a wheelchair - she had an amputated leg, bald head, and
dark circles under her eyes. I'll never, ever forget that
picture in my head. I remember instantly getting sick
to my stomach, going into a panic, and nearly fainting
right there in the line-up waiting to see the oncologist
for the first time. Two months later, it was me in that
chair.
Yesterday,
I hid behind my dark sunglasses and just cried.
July
20, 2008.
Forgive
me - I am way behind. I've gotten around to posting a
pic of my poor Gypsy, after her "de-skunking"
bath. she looks pitiful, yet adorable at the same time.
Incidently, she still smells like skunk, after many baths
and perfumes.

July
19, 2008.
I just got back from my tour of Manitoulin Island, Ontario,
Canada. I had such a good time. What an eclectic bunch
we were: the 82 year-old still riding his bike; the esthetician
that has never been in a sidecar - or gone on a motorcycle
trip, for that matter; and me, the amputee, on her first
tour since.
Couldn't
have gone away with a better bunch, we all chipped in
three ways and paid for the food, gas, accomodations.
We rented a cabin for the first two nights, then a 16-foot
trailer, both on the water.
I
found myself singing at a pub on the Friday past, and
nursing a severe headache the next morning. The island
is so beautiful - all the roads are paved, and it quite
has the feel of an East Coast fishing village. It was
the first time I had visited there when it wasn't raining.
The weather was hot, and we were only rained on once,
where I had to bungee the tonneau cover around the esthetician.
Had
bike troubles though, which started on the way up. That
fantastic motor job done over in Quebec, is pooched -
again. This'll be the third time it gets fixed. Seems
my $1600 is stretching a long way. The oil is pumpin'
out of 'er pretty good, out the top end, not quite sure
from where, there is so much oil covering everything.
Can't dwell too long on that one or I'll freak! Wal-Mart
had to order in extra 20W50 just for me for God's sake.
Hope
to upload the Manitoulin pics in Photo Gallery Touring
in the near (well, maybe not so near) future.
June
30, 2008.
I
couldn't take the torture any longer - I boogied up the
street to a driveway where, upon walking past many a time
with my dog, I had spied a van bearing the God-sent words,
"Scott - Custom Builder". Short of taking my
hammer to the ramp itself and destroying it in a violent
rage, (but not before resorting to some pretty unsafe
practices with the skilsaw), I enlisted the help of Ian,
the custom builder, to whom the van belonged. Kindly,
he fixed this Canadian's Worst Handy-woman's
Mess.
Alas
- after one month of the shed having been completed, and
one month of parking my now-rusting-muffler-bike on the
grass under a tarp, I drove Old Girl into her new home
- the shed. Of course, with a tight turn to make, and
a wagon full of weeds nearby, I rammed the doorway with
the sidecar fender. Forgot all about the freakin' thing
being there. Mastered sidewalk curbs and other vehicles,
but need to remember the fender has to clear the doorway...LOL.
Good Night folks...
June
27 , 2008.
This
fuckin' ramp is starting to drive me nuts.
June
20 , 2008.
Oh
my God - I took on the job of trying, and I repeat trying,
to build a ramp so that I can get my bike and sidecar into
the wonderful shed friends of mine built me. I bought all
of those deck hanger things, had the boys at Home Depot
rip down pressure treated 2X6X12s in half and I even bought
the proper deck hanger nails. What a job trying to figure
out the angle and what to saw off the planks, at what pitch.
I managed to get two hung, with the third hanger nailed
in place, but not before needing to rest. All that thinking,
stumbling about with the wood in hand to saw them off, and
having to retighten the big nut on my Skilsaw wore me out.
I bought a new blade for the saw, but I think it
(the saw) got worn out during the shed building, and it's
now making this horrific grinding noise while it spins.
I am having to retighten the centre bolt after each sawcut.
I really don't know how guys can do this construction thing.
It took me two hours to cut two pieces of wood! The sound
of the Skilsaw really frightens me - it is intimidating.
I have to admit though, so far it doesn't look all that
bad. I even had to rip down a 2X6X12 into an 8' length for
a header onto which I nailed the deck hangers. Ahhh - those
deck hangers. What a job setting the height of the 2X6s
into them - I have to allow for the plywood that goes on
top, so that I don't get a ridge where the shed floor meets
the ramp. Don't want a speed bump for heaven's sake! I am
so wiped from stumbling about in my prosthetic. Anyhow,
I will trudge through it - eventually reaching the finish.
Today
I did my good deed - I witnessed this kid walking on the
sidewalk, throw down a piece of garbage. I yelled at him
through my open truck window to "Pick up your garbage!"
And he DID! I didn't even get the proverbial f***k
off! One of the few unspoiled adolescents left in this world...
June
19 , 2008.
Had
a great weekend at a poker run. My daughter took 1st place
with three Jacks, winning $500, and I took 3rd place, with
two pairs, winning $100. So, we had agreed that any winnings
were to be split evenly, hence, I went home with $300. My
daughter also took 1st place door prize, a beautiful Coors
Light cooler on wheels, with travel handle. Hope to have
pics (what few I have) up and posted on Rally Alley
page soon. Bear with me guys - I am doing a ton of work
on the site, and it takes time. Ghost Town page
is also well under construction.
June
11 , 2008.
Well,
yesterday started with a Bang!
I let my Gypsy (no relation)
out for her morning routine and a bomb went off right under
my open kitchen window. She had cornered a black & white
friend in the corner nook outside the kitchen window, and
got nailed right in the mouth. Well, I had no choice but
to let her in the back door, grab her, put her collar on
and attach her outside the front door, in order
fo the skunk to escape the back yard - it is completely
fenced in. So, there I was, in good ol' Wal-Mart, at 7:30,
buying up the place, arming myself with cleansers, baking
soda, peroxide, you name it. Meanwhile, I smelled as though
I had been the one sprayed. How embarrassing! By the time
I had arrived home, my poor dog had puked lall over the
place and my whole yard and inside the house was rank with
the smell.
To
add insult to injury, as I began washing her down with a
solution of peroxide and baking soda, a huge black cloud
came over top of the house and unleashed the wildest thunderstorm,
within seconds. There I was, with no garden hose for help,
washing my dog with teatrea shampoo, Outrageous shampoo,
baking soda/peroxide, all in the pouring rain and lightning.
The neighbours must have thought I was nuts! I actually
was laughing, because I'm sure they thought I was using
the rain water to rinse my dog.
Anyway,
Gypsy was banned from the bedroom, and anywhere else there
is carpet. She was quite insulted she spent the night on
the linoleum kitchen floor. I reasoned it away to her that
if she were to belong to anyone else, she would
be spending the night out in the doghouse...
June
9 , 2008.
Some
days I feel like I'm just destined to live a lonely life.
June
7 , 2008.
HOT!
HOT! HOT!
May
17, 2008.
People are in such a rush all the time. I used to be just
like them. And I can't help but think I wasted so much time
rushing, and I was so stressed, and I wonder if that's what
made me sick. Cars cutting me off, just to turn off ahead;
passing me to gain one car's length, pedestrians running
out in front of me. My God, people are just like ants -
rushing around in their own little world, oblivious to the
big footprint about to get them. It is really disturbing
to watch, now that I am more aware. I have learned to take
it easy, not fret so much about things. If I'm late, what's
the worst thing that could happen? That I avoided an accident?
Okay, the guy in the parking lot last week didn't avoid
me, that's for sure. You see,
he was in a rush too - so much so, that he forgot to check
his blind spot while backing out. What really gets me, is
that he didn't even do the honourable thing and step up
to pay. Is this the sad state of affairs the world is in?
I hate to seem like a big black cloud about to rain on peoples'
lawn sales, but really, things look bleak.
May
16, 2008.
I
was informed that it isn't the tranny, it is in fact engine
compression difficulties that would most likely cause Old
Girl to roll. Who'd-a-thunkit? Learnin' all the time...
May
13, 2008.
The
freakiest thing happened to me today. It seems, there is
always some form of excitement around me. Many good things
also happened to me today, which I can't go into here until
the article gets published. However, onto the freaky thing.
After running errands (on the bike, of course), I decided
to go for a run down to the park and grab a coffee, maybe
trade some riding stories. The incline out of the french-fry
stand is quite steep, so, as a precautionary move (technically,
one shouldn't need to do this) I cranked my front end completely
against its stop so that in the event the bike should roll,
it would just roll into the bushes behind me, and not into
the parked car directly behind me. Don't forget my bike
has the sidecar attached, so I don't use the sidestand.
Because the bike is pretty much upright, the sidestand would
be inneffective as a "catch brake" anyway.
Well,
I climbed off Old Girl, and as I was fishin' for my coffee
money, the freakin' thing proceeded to roll backwards -
then catch - then roll - then catch! I completely forgot
about my prosthetic, flew around to the left side of the
bike (I had been behind the trunk of the sidecar fishing
for the money) jumped on and depressed the brake. Instinctively
I flicked the gearshift to ensure the bike was, in fact,
in gear - which it was - and still rolling. Holy s@&%t!
I began hauling on the handlebars, rattling the hell out
of my bike to see if it would still roll, and yep, there
she was, in gear, and rolling, ever so slightly. So, I'm
assuming I will be needing some tranny work, hopefully not
for awhile, but at some point. So another lesson for you
boys and girls out there - always take precautions! It might
save you from an incident. A little forethought went a long
way today - and so did my left-it-in-gear-bike! Guess I'll
need to start haulin' a couple of bricks around from now
on.
May
9, 2008.
7:00
a.m.
The
saga continues. Is there a force out there that just waits
until things go right, to then step in and make them go
wrong? An idiot backed into me in the parking lot yesterday.
Bashed in my left front fender, I am crawling over to the
passenger side to get in and out. This really sucks. He
was arrogant too, especially when I decided to telephone
the cops. Not that they could really do anything - it happened
in a parking lot, and I knew this. But the man was adamant
about not remaining at the scene, and I became suspicious
he had been drinking. Turns out not, however, I
am now suspcious of his insurance coverage. He was unable
to produce his policy number, from what I recall amidst
all the excitement. I guess it's another bad pill I will
need to swallow, for I do not have collision coverage on
my vehicle, due to the sky-high rates I am now paying due
to that at-fault accident that really wasn't my fault, which
I had in Quebec last year. (Yes that was a run-on sentence
- I'm allowed those once in awhile - there is no editor
here at Roadgypsy.com.) One positive thing that came of
it though - the constable that responded was actually sympathetic
to the human condition, was cute, and smelled nice.
Probably is married and has eight kids or something...
May
3, 2008.
Gotta
tell ya - just realized I have links that are not linked,
photos that disappeared, well, any of you computer buffs
will know what that's like. So
bear with me, I need to go hunting to find all of the stuff
and re-upload it. I spent a considerable amount of time
on my photo gallery, thought I was making progress, and
now this. For all I've gained,
I lost a bunch of stuff too. Goes with the territory, I
guess.
While
I'm here, I am going to mention something that has been
bugging me for quite sometime - and I warn you - there will
be persons out there that I'm sure will take offense to
my following musings, well, factual experience actually.
I am about to tell you a "politically incorrect"
story - then again, I was never one to follow the status
quo anyway.
I've
been noticing these days, the tremendous amount of "pink
ribbon" campaigns out there. I'm waiting for the big
pink dildoe to be next on the market. I actually see it
as such a joke, to the point it is burning my ass and it
isn't funny anymore. A few days ago, it was announced that
the Princess Margaret Hospital Lottery generated over $70
000 000. Correct me if I heard that incorrectly
on the TV. Should be close, for, according to their website,
the 2006 year generated over $65 000 000. That's million
for you numerical illiterates.
My
story is this: when I became ill late 2006, I needed
to rely on my investments which I had placed after buying
a home with my then-partner in Quebec, in order to survive.
We had a large mortgage payment (over $800/month) plus living
expenses. Together, we split the costs. Now remember, we
began this life together before I ever new I had a problem.
So, mega-visits to the hospital in Quebec City (over one
hour away from our home), doctors, specialists, rehab appointments,
food while at the hospital, on and on and on, this all costs
money in addition to, our living expenses. My partner
certainly helped out there, for after my surgery, my meds,
etc, money was quickly running out. (It's amazing just how
fast the money goes when you're not working, and need to
keep paying living expenses - add to that the health problem
thing.) So, I had no choice but to keep breaking up investments
until nothing was left, in order to live. (Okay okay, I'm
getting to the point soon...)
We
were told by the nurses to hand in all of our hospital receipts
and medical expenses to the CLSC of Quebec, and apply for
assistance. They would reimburse our expenses during that
time. So, we handed over all of our receipts, even had a
nurse come to the house, fill out all the necessary applications,
explain to us what receipts were acceptable, etc. Well,
off she went, and we never heard from her again. After many,
many follow ups, and six months later, we were informed
they would not cover any of the expenses, and that we needed
to go to the Canadian Cancer Society. It took us quite some
time to get our stuff back, some of which was missing. When
we did, off we went to the Canadian Cancer Society. We were
politely informed, that it was too late to hand in our receipts.
We explained that the CLSC of Quebec held up the process,
and then told us to go to the Cancer Society. Apparently,
that didn't matter one iota to the Canadian Cancer Society.
Directly
on their website they state transportation support, helping
you get to your centres and treatments, etc. Do you know
how much my receipts amounted to? Close to $500. For me,
that was a lot of money. For them, a drop in the bucket.
I was shocked at the lack of support. Oh they offer
support all right - support that doesn't cost them too much.
It's easy to provide phone numbers of government agencies.
Hell, I could do that for myself. After all the years of
donating to the Cancer Society on the behalf of my business,
and with all the Pink Ribbon campains, Daffodil campaign
blah blah blah, they couldn't even offer a portion
of my expenses - because I was too long in handing in my
receipts. Too long? That money was long gone out of my bank
account. I certainly felt it,
even though it was six months later. Do people not see this?
Do they not see the Wheel of Cancer-$$$
?
Fighting
cancer. The search for a cure. Yeah fuckin' right. Sorry
about the language, but the smoke is starting to rise. Why
would they even want to find a cure? With all the dough
people are raking in with all their campaigns, finding a
cure would put an end to the money wheel. I think the money
should go to the patients - for
gas, family travel expenses, in-home assistive devices and
meds. We already know we need to get the daily 5-10 vegetables
into us.
May
1, 2008.
Happy
birthday to me! Great day, all I can say...
April
25, 2008.
Never
thought I'd be saying this: rain, at last! Things are so
dry we can't burn our tidy-up remnants because there is
a fire ban. Even with all the snow we had this past winter,
things are tinder-dry. The showers we had today did nothing
to really help the situation either. We need a 3-day soaking
to restore a safe burning zone.
Last
night I went to the coffeehouse and managed a 2-song spot
at the end of the night. Haven't been singing anywhere lately,
so I truly enjoyed getting out.
Well,
we managed to get the hole dug out for my shed-building
party. Holy, it doesn't look like much, for all the work
it took, but when you count all the rocks and garbage -
yep - you guessed it - garbage that was buried, exactly
where the shed will be built, it's a wonder we even got
as far as we did. We unearthed bed frames, concrete blocks,
planks of pressure-treated lumber, bones (yep), a Jesus
figurine, (wondered what sort of burial took place), various
items of garbage like shingle pieces, plastic coffee cups/lids,
nails, chunks of plastic - debris that was buried. Add to
that a pile of rocks too. My ol' leg was demo'd after, I
was out of commision for a couple of days. The nearly tipping
over with the wheelbarrow load pretty much was the signal
to stop, much to the mortified expression on my friends'
onlooking faces.

A
huge THANK YOU, guys!

April
24 , 2008.
All
this week on our local television station they're featuring
areas of severe dumping of garbage in Simcoe County. Everywhere
there is garbage, and some people are unabashedly dumping
large items right beside the road. I hate to admit it, but
I think the government is really part of the problem. Let's
face it: people are dumping simply because they don't want
to pay. Large items are no longer picked up curbside; any
more than one bag of garbage, and we are having to pay for
extra bag tags - this already in addition to the garbage
taxes we're charged on our property tax bills. Don't get
me wrong - I hate dumpers, but I see why it's being done.
I don't like to compare apples to oranges, however, but
when I lived in Quebec, there was one distinction between
Ontario and Quebec: you didn't see junk piled all around
the homes, and you didn't see garbage all over the roadsides
or in the bush. Everything is collected on garbage day,
sorted at a depot, and resold. If you need one foot of trim,
you can go and buy one foot of used trim. Used sofas? They
are sewn, repaired, and resold. The properties and grounds
in that province are CLEAN. Possibly there is a lesson to
be learned from there. And NO, I am not pro-Quebec. This
is merely an observation.
April
18 , 2008.
Alrighty
now - I'm not freakin' French! Just because I lived (a horrific
year, I might add) in Quebec last year, does not mean I
am French. No offense to all you Frenchies out there. Don't
send me a bunch of discrimination hate mail, please. Save
the bullshit for the rodeo.
April
17 , 2008.
Riding
season is finally upon us; and I am, finally, officially,
completely, Ontarian once again. My bike is plated and insured,
and I've been enjoying the last couple of days, albeit dusty
as they were, riding the highways of Simcoe. Lots of bikes,
lots of idiots that still don't notice them.
My
endurance seems better this season; not much wonder, I was
riding barely out of surgery IV (intravenous) last year.
Manitoulin might not seem a dream away after all - okay,
maybe Idaho, or Yukon or Newfoundland is, but that could
be a goal to work toward. Thought about a possibility -
renting a trike. Was chatting with a fella in the
Home Depot parking lot, and his tale of renting bikes and
touring turned the lightbulb on. Now, to find a suitable
Harley trike, that I would be able to shift gears on...
Ahh,
just enjoying the mornings in my Muskoka chair, with my
Gypsy (dog - and no relation) and coffee - I realized how
precious life is. One really needs to take the time and
smell the spring. Last year this time I was in a wheelchair.
My, how far I've come. I did a stupid thing yesterday -
I never switched the channel when, on Sex and the City,
Samantha is diagnosed with breast cancer. Usually, I turn
the channel whenever any commercials come on, or any programs
related to the 'C' word. It's just negativity, in my opinion.
Well, I tortured myself and watched the whole episode, and
it even showed Samantha shaving her head because she was
beginning to lose her hair. And there I was - reliving the
same thing, all over in my head. Although I never thought
it would bother me as much as it actually did, to lose one's
hair, is really quite devastating. When I shaved it off,
which was necessary by the way, because you can't stand
the sensation on your scalp when it's falling out, I just
cried during the whole ordeal. Okay, onto the next topic.
Why
do men find it necessary to hork and spit onto the ground
out in public? It really is disgusting, especially in front
of a coffee shop window. Although I did find myself
in a horking contest a time or two in my adolescent lifetime,
there is a time and place for that sort of thing. So, on
that note, save that sort of business, all you Romeos out
there, for the privacy of your own yard. Please - it really
shines a disgusting light on you! You won't be impressing
the ladies with it, that's for sure.
Happy
Harley Days!
April
7 , 2008.
Well,
this weekend I just proved to myself another reason why
I shouldn't open forwards. I received a FW about needles
being infected with HIV positive blood, that are supposedly
being taped underneath gas pump handles. Apparently people
would grab the nozzle to fill up their vehicle, stick themselves
and now there's a very large number of people in Simcoe
that have since tested positive.
So,
I never open FWs, but this one I decided to because of the
nature of the subject. I was very concerned, like any other
person would be that is not aware it's a hoax. So, I did
what I rarely, if never do: I forwarded the message to people
I figure commuted to work, or rode a bike and filled their
tanks frequently. I also went so far as to protect identities
by erasing the addresses of the other people to which the
original forward had been sent. (I am not savvy when it
comes to FWs, cc, Bcc - I only know how to maintain this
site) What happened next planted my against-FWs conviction
firmly in the ground.
I
received replies from almost all of the recipients that
it was a hoax, it's been around for quite sometime, and
they sent me a link to a site that verifies hoaxes, whatever.
So, with great embarrassment, I've pasted the link to the
site y'all sent me to verify such things. Here is the link,
and I WILL not,
ever, FW another e-mail. Done. Gas
Pump Hoax
Onto
another topic. I just discovered another hazard of having
a prosthetic leg - shopping-cart-pushing. I was in Wal Mart
(no, I don't spend all of my time at Wal Mart - I needed
to pick up toiletries), happily pushing my shopping cart,
when, WHAM! I stumbled and almost knocked my teeth
out of my head on the cart handle. My left foot had stepped
onto the left wheel of the cart, and, naturally, as I rolled
along, it rolled my leg out from under me. With no sensation,
I didn't even realize that during my step forward, my left
leg (the fake one) stepped onto the shopping cart wheel.
Wow. People of course thought I was spastic idiot.
Yet
again, I spied a vehicle, and nice fancy one at that, parked
in a handicap parking space, no permit at all in the window.
It was parked in front of an art store, which is right beside
a drive test centre. It sat there most of the day, I never
had a chance to spy who the culprit was. I need to get a
job in that field. I'd be good at it.
Well,
plans are underway for my Shed
Building Party. It's slated for two days, Saturday,
May 31 and Sunday June 1, 2008. I still need some
back up labourers. The link and info is repeated here:
Copied
f rom March 16:
Ok
- I'm recruiting some strapping lads for a shed-building
party at the end of May. If interested, e-mail me. The pay
is bad, as in 0$. But, there could be some beer and food
in it for you. You'd be building a shed to house a Harley
with sidecar. (Hmmm, I wonder whose that would be?) I would
provide the material, you would provide the time, gratis
(that's free, in French, for those that do not know).This
would most likely take place in late May, and you would
need to bring your body, knowledge, strength, hammer, drill,
saw, and whatever else it takes to construct a shed that's
10X10.8 feet. You will need to work well in a group, and
take instruction from a female (other than your wife). If
you wish to bring a friend or spouse to be gopher, that's
fine, but I would discourage children, I have a shepherd
that is getting more ornery each year.
Link:
Shed
Building Party
March
31, 2008.
March
came in like a lamb, and she's going out like a lion. It's
raining, which is a good thing - it'll help knock some of
the snow. Nothing much to report, other than I've been in
a great deal of pain with my leg - the sawed-off bone is
hurting everytime I put my prosthetic on. This makes it
extremely difficult to walk. I am no where near the cardiovascular
exercise I was doing with my first prosthetic.This is really
starting to piss me off.
March
23, 2008.
Happy
Easter! Did everyone put all their eggs in one basket? The
sun shone bright, but it was deceiving - the temperature
was positively COLD! I'm sure the Easter
Bunny froze his own eggs off.
I
can't get over how many people unabashedly use the handicap
parking spaces. I watch them looking around to see if anyone
is watching! And boy they don't like to be confronted. It's
as though I am the law-breaker. I would love to
hold the ticketer's job - I would not be ashamed to ask
each person who uses the space for their I.D. to verify
their use of the space. I even leave the space
for someone who may need it more than me, when my prosthetic
is fitting well, and I'm able to walk less slowly and without
pain. Those permits are issued to the person -
not the vehicle. People have no shame let me tell ya, and
that really pisses me off. I would be the first to invent
"handicap parking rage".
March
16, 2008.
Spring
is in the air! And I've kept ahead of the doggy-do bits
too! Want a great tip? Don't discard the dog food bags.
They make great dog-do containers. Some are foil-lined,
some plastic.They are strong and pretty much leak free,
unless you put a hole in the bag or something by accident.
Well,
I meant to update you folks on the Baljinder Badesha case.
Remember? He was the dude that contested the Ontario helmet
law because he said in went against his religion. He lost.
But apparently he's taking it to Supreme, where I'm sure
they'll kiss ass, because they will look at the other two
cases in the other provinces, can't remember which provinces
though. But I'm sure we will not be exempt. the
other provinces set a precedent, unfortunately. It wouldn't
burn me so much if we would all be exempt from the law.
But, alas, we do not wear turbans.
Ok
- I'm recruiting some strapping lads for a shed-building
party at the end of May. If interested, e-mail me. The pay
is bad, as in 0$. But, there could be some beer and food
in it for you. You'd be building a shed to house a Harley
with sidecar. (Hmmm, I wonder whose that would be?) I would
provide the material, you would provide the time, gratis
(that's free, in French, for those that do not
know).This would most likely take place in late May, and
you would need to bring your body, knowledge, strength,
hammer, drill, saw, and whatever else it takes to construct
a shed that's 10X10.8 feet. You will need to work well in
a group, and take instruction from a female (other than
your wife). If I could do it alone, believe me, I would.
I did build a deck to a pool, alone. Okay, it wasn't perfect,
but it had 16 inch centres! And the only reason it was out
of level is because I had to take it out of level,
because the pool was out of level, and if I left
the deck level, I would be unable to open the pool gate.
So, not my fault. But conditions are such that, I am unable
now, so, hence the reason for the shed building party. If
you wish to bring a friend or spouse to be gopher, that's
fine, but I would discourage children, I have a shepherd
that is getting more ornery each year.
E-mail
me at: Shed
Building Party
March
13, 2008.
It
was a year ago today that I had my chemotherapy treatment.
Can't go on about it too much here, other than it was the
most terrifying experience I've ever had, and I wouldn't
wish it on my worst enemy. Still suffering the effects of
it, one year later.
I'm
thinking about going somewhere. LOL LOL LOL. That was too
funny, what I just entered. I'm ALWAYS thinking
about going somewhere! I actually videotaped the Newfoundland
and Yukon commercials that are aired on OLN (Outdoor Life
Network). That's just crazy. Each time I see the Yukon ad,
I start crying. And I can't put my finger on it - am I crying
because I can't do it again, expecially with the sidecar?
Or crying from the rush I get watching it, knowing I've
been there. Strange familiarity comes over me when I watch
it. Bizarre.
I
don't know how I ever managed seven months in a wheelchair.
When I began house hunting here in Ontario, I lived with
mom and dad for a few months. And my mother noted that I
was always on the move. Even when I had time, it was spent
driving. Driving to Tim Hortons. Driving to the mall. Driving
and dropping in on people. She then understood my need to
travel. My father and I are very similar - we both love
to learn, and his nose is always in a book, or studying
a map of some sort. You should see my map collection. I
will read a map whilst sitting on the toilet; whilst getting
ready to sleep; whilst watching TV. I have globes all over
the place. It's almost a sickness, the need to always be
on the move. Last summer I was doing good to get 1000 km
in on the bike for the entire season. This year, if I had
the right bike I would be gone - minimum three weeks. I'm
starting to think about towing the bike on a trailer to
Newfoundland and unloading it. (Shhh - I've never trailered
in 26 years).
March
9, 2008.
I've
finally just been able to provide visitors updated access
to this page, due to technical difficluties with my Scratchings
page. "Technical" being, I lost my working page,
which meant I was unable to give you guys access to updates
until the problem was solved. So I solved it, by putting
up a temp Scratchings page.
I
haven't had bike fever this bad in a few years. Maybe it's
a classic case of wanting what you can't have. Well, we're
digging out again. I remember having winters like this when
I was a kid. My poor leg (the fake one) can't take this
anymore. I've been procrastinating about going out to clear
the snow. I have a snowblower, but with the ice and the
weight of the thing, it is a huge challenge for me to run
it and move the snow from my drive. I'm hoping someone will
clear me out before I get there.
What
constitutes attraction? I look around and see men at the
gym, and I wonder why people are attracted to some and not
others. Recently I was attracted to a man simply because
I saw the muscles in his forearms strain when he did his
chin-ups. I think back to when I had been attracted to some
men that were, well, simply put, ugly. But they oozed charisma,
and their pheromones floated around my head terribly. Since
my Quebec fiasco I've learned a few things - mostly about
myself. I am definitely turned off by men who don't
look after themselves - men who don't take pride in their
appearance and men who don't make some sort of effort to
stay in shape. Everybody gains weight at some point in their
life, through illness or medications, whatever. But a man
that sincerely puts forth an effort to maintain a healthy
weight or combat their weight gain is a turn on. That's
it. I had the unfortunate experience, only with a man, of
the syndrome most men experience after a few years
of being married to their wife - she quits looking after
herself, gets fat and starts wearing track pants in public.
In my case, there was no track pant, but Harley regalia
- which is okay, depending on where you go. An intimate
dinner is not exactly the place to wear dirty, forehead-oiled
bandanas and washed out Harley T-shirts. What happened to
the nice dress-shirt? Classic bait-and-switch.
February
26 , 2008.
Now,
which would I prefer - a prosthetic foot that's adjustable
at the ankle to accomodate high heels, or a Volkswagen trike,
the Runabout? Can't afford either.
Frustrated
today. I have to wear flat shoes and boots everywhere, and
I get sick of listening to high-heeled clicking in the stores.
I look like a freakin' old person with my cane; I feel less
than sexy let me tell ya. When I go to the Y for training,
I squeak everytime a take a step. There is no cover on my
prosthetic; if I wear long pants, people gawk and wonder
what the noise is. If I wear capris or shorts, at least
they can tell what the squeak is. Then I just laugh because
what else can one do, and I tell them my little birdie is
following me around everywhere I walk. The squeak sounds
like a chickadee. My prosthetic needs adjustment, and the
left side is shorter, so I walk crooked, with a limp and
both hips are aching horribly. I am trying to be thankful
for just being alive, but once in awhile the gravity of
it all creeps into my brain.
I
have bike fever. I haven't felt it for a long time. Everytime
I see the TV commercials for Yukon, I think back to when
I rode there on my bike. I love that place. I so want to
go back again. but I know I can't do it with the sidecar.
There is something truly magical about the north. Some days
I get this crazy idea to jump in a truck and trailer my
freakin' bike there then unload it. Where once I would consider
trailering sacrilege, I'm beginning to re-evaluate my options.
Sometimes I think of just calling a bunch of guys up and
seeing if they want to go. Crazy eh? But things look different
to me than they did before all of this happened. Life appears
startlingly short. I panic sometimes and I want to do everything
I can - want to jump on a plane and go to Italy and drink
wine and dip bread into flavoured olive oil all day. I want
to hire an instructor at the ski hill for an hour and try,
just try, to snowboard. I know how, but I want to try it
now, with my prosthetic. I need to know I can still
do it. I just need someone there to pick me up when I fall.
Cause I know I might fall. And I would have difficulty getting
back up. I saw an amputee skiing at the Collingwood games.
Man, the guy so inspired me.
Anyway, it's time to quit crying in my tea.
February
23 , 2008.
Once
I started to feel better last night and not until late
last night, I decided to try and find a song I'd heard many
times over the airwaves, and always wanted to try and learn
it on the piano. So All I knew were parts of the lyrics,
but fortunately, found it.
And
whew! The guy who wrote it - is he ever HOT! I would love
to write music with that dude... Okay - you're
all wonderin' "What song is
it?" Here it is folks: Bad Day
by Daniel Powter. Couldn't imagine a bad
day if it started with that guy...here's the link
to the song: Bad
Day Clicking on the song title should get you there.
While you're there, ladies (maybe some of you guys too,
I don't know) check out that guy's face. Wow! Very
handsome. The guy's mother was a piano player too. Very
cool.
February
22 , 2008.
Well,
decided to celebrate last night, my re-newed Ontario residency
- with ordered-in pizza, wings, breadsticks. I washed it
down with the left over pink champagne from when I celebrated
my new beginning, after the deal closed on my little house.
I woke up in the middle of the night sicker than a dog,
headache, and all the pizza (ate 3/4 of the large Brooklyn
pepperoni) just sat in the ol' gut all night. I'm still
gettin' over the assault on my poor body.
February
21 , 2008.
Yeah!
I'm officially Ontarian again! got back my Ontario plates.
Hooray. Now just to find a doctor...
February
20 , 2008.
Well, finally settled into the new place. Finally got my
Ontario driver's license back. Finally got my OHIP card
back. Finally got my passport back. But still haven't dug
my way out of my insurance rates - the ones that skyrocketed
due to my "at fault" accident which really wasn't
my fault - over in Quebec. SURE am glad to be back in Ontario.
Okay, we're regulated to the a---hole, but at least we're
regulated to the a--hole in English.
Did
y'all know that they no longer accept non-government issue
birth certificates when transferring a driver's license?
Guess who found out - at the counter - after I had my emissions
test and safety done? They (drive-test centre of Ontario)
refused my birth certificate (a hospital birth certificate,
which is all that I've ever had, from Connecticut USA) as
ID. You'll never guess what I had to do? Had to apply to
the State of Connecticut AND the City Clerk's office in
Milford for a "government" issued birth record.
(But they'll give a license back to someone after a 12-hour
suspension.) Funny thing is, I applied for my passport with
the same said hospital birth certificate, and never had
problems. I also do all my travelling with same said birth
certificate.
It's
almost as though I turned criminal for moving to Quebec
for a year and a half. Let me warn all you folks considering
a transfer to another province: stay an Ontario resident,
just be a cottager working a temp position in the other
province. You'll save yourself a whole lot of headaches,
and you'll do your part in screwing the govt., because,
after all, their laws and regulations are certainly conducive
to them getting screwed, including YOU.
Speaking
of laws: I guess, just by the nature of the subject, I am
forced to comment on the recent attempt by Baljinder Badesha
to fight the helmet law here in Ontario. Peel Regional Police
pulled the guy over for not wearing his helmet, which he
explained discriminated against his religious beliefs. He
explained that removing his turban to fit his helmet to
his head was descriminatory.
As
you could well imagine, the smoke streaming from my two
ears set off the smoke alarm in my place. I was FURIOUS!
I am watching the outcome of this story closely, for if
this guy wins the case, there most surely will be some sort
of revolt against the Ontario Government, from the biker
community. If not, I'll be very surprised (and possibly
disappointed). Have we not fought for years, without success,
for the freedom/right to choose whether or not to wear a
helmet? Same goes for wearing seatbelts, and other laws.
That society must pick up the tab across the OHIP board
for injuries sustained to the head of a motorcyclist that
chose not to wear a helmet is NOT the issue here that burns
my ass; considering that happens to constitute
part of the helmet law argument from non-bikers.
What burns me is that if the guy wins the case, then what
flies next? I mean, they're already exempt from wearing
the traditional uniform of the Mounted Police, a classic
Canadian symbol. Religious knives are allowed on their person
in schools. The list is growing, and soon, if we don't watch
out, Canada will no longer be Canada - it will only be known
as a sieve through which all visitors may pass and become
citizens of their own country, abiding by their
own laws, and practising their own religious beliefs,
residing on a piece of foreign take-over (Canada). Bikers
beware - rest assured, you'll be pulling up alongside your
Sikh brothers, wearing their own uniform,
proudly displaying their own weapons attached
at their waist. Put away your switchblades boys - they're
no competition against the competition. And besides, leather
is no longer in fashion, is it now, fellow motorcyclists?
January
27, 2008.
I
repeat, "Okay, Okay, enough already! Yep, it's been
a long stretch since the last entry! But I'm here now, aren't
I?"
Well,
the 12-hour drive, amputation, chemo and car accident, as
well as a host of other "technicalities" there
in Quebec proved to be too much for my censory perception.
So, I moved back to Ontario. Having said that, I shall leave
y'all as my sea of boxes await...
November
29 , 2007.
Okay,
Okay, enough already! Yep, it's been a long stretch since
the last entry! But I'm here now, aren't I?
Well,
I've had a couple of visits to Ontario since the last entry.
Enjoyed time spent with friends and family, you know the
usual "un-boring" stuff! It's a long, ol' 12-hour
drive from here in Quebec to where my parents live. I usually
need to pull over for a snooze around the half-way mark,
which is usually at the Quebec/Ontario border. (Would ya
look at that - I called it "border". At times
it really does feel as though Quebec is a different country
from the rest of Canada.) Hope to get home for Christmas
too.
I
have started back at my music again. Been doin' some writing,
and have decided to get a little gig together with a musician
friend. Get back to my roots - which is definitely music.
My
hair is really coming in now, after losing it all from chemo.
It's so curly, I look like "a Gin-o from Toron-to"!
(That's said with an exaggerated 'O', accent on 'O'.) Now,
I don't want a bunch of complaints that I'm slammin' Italians;
I love Italians - it's just that my hair is very dark and
extremely curly at the moment - I look Italian. It takes
an hour to dry and flat iron it out - then it's the Joan
Jett '80s look. Any way one looks at it, it sure beats bald!
(Now, don't you baldies get offended either - bald on men
is far more becoming than on women, and besides, Dr. Phil
is hero in our house...
Finally
put the bike away. Went for a nice fall ride through the
Appalachian countryside here. We now have a small snowbank.
Set between two mountains, we have what they call "mountain
weather", and what I call "the 10 o'clock cloud
roll-in". Never fails: right around 10:00 a.m., the
clouds start rollin' in. It could be the clearest, bluest
sky you wake up to, but it clouds over each day at 10:00
a.m. So, I quickly learned that if I want to get any riding
in before it rains, one has to get on it quick before ten.
Not
much to tell you, other than I am still in my old prosthetic.
Skipped number two, it was so large by the time I returned
from Ontario, couldn't even fill it enough to make it fit.
My residual limb has shrunk a lot. so tomorrow, blisters
and all, I will go for adjustments to a new socket and liner
- a totally differentl system. There are no strings, wool
"sock"s and such with this one. The system combines
a gelatin sleeve that has a built-in bolt with a socket
that has a hole in the bottom into which the sleeve ratchets.
One push of a release button and the prosthetic is off -
could be a dream if the adjustments are well fitted. I am
trying not to get too excited after all of the disappointments
thus far. The prosthetic promises more comfort and motion
at the knee. Currently, I need to put thick surgical gauze
over and behind my knee to keep the inside liner from blistering
the skin any more than it already is. Painful let me tell
ya. Certainly limits one's movements...
Well,
not much more to report. Will try to touch base sooner next
time. Oh - as much as I have enjoyed some of the jokes and
such, I have stopped opening all attachments and those e-mails
from visitors that do not have a subject in the subject
line. I have a ton of spam and crap coming through, so apologies
to those whose e-mails are deleted without being read. Anything
that even remotely looks suspicious is deleted. Until later
Dudes and Dudettes,
Roadgypsy.
September
29 , 2007.
Well,
that little accident I had before my fishing trip ended
up costing over $14 000 to repair.
I
had a wonderful trip back home, Ontario, but combined it
with a lot of work. Have many articles to write, hence the
reason I haven't updated this diary 'til now.
Had
a surprise the other night - received a phone call from
the local camera club. I had entered a photo contest with
one of my rodeo shots from St. Victor. I was one of the
30 finalists and was invited to the presentations. Didn't
win, however I received a "coup du coeur" (apologize
for my bad French), which apparently is equivalent to honourable
mention. I was happy just with that.
Haven't
ridden my bike for over two months now. Just lost the interest.
However, at the invitation of a friend, I went to a Brothers
of the Third Wheel trike-in down in Belwood. They were very
welcoming, met a lot of interesting folks, and had a little
fun - lost miserably in the clothesline event. Couldn't
get a single towel pegged onto the line. Thniking about
getting a trike. Need to figure out how to pay for it, but
I've got my eye on a Trike
Shop model, their Runabout,
with VW engine.
Played
some music with a friend, and ultimately we jammed a bit
with the house band at Marina's Restaurant in Port McNicol.
Had a great time. I miss my music and all you folks back
home. The cogs are turnin' by Jesus - thinking of how I
can come back to live in Ontario. It's expensive there!
Cost of living is a lot lower here in Quebec than Ontario.
The cost of a house, as well as the taxes, is half also.
I am unable to work, still needing to remove my prosthesis
daily. I need a new one, because my residual limb has shrunk
so much my leg sits too deep inside the prosthetic and I'm
having a lot of skin difficulties: rashes, blisters, infected
follicles, pain, you name it. People just can't imagine
what is involved with amputation and prosthetics. Until
they see the whole process, they will never understand.
However,leg
is coming along - no choice! I've been putting it to the
test, trying to jog, and walking Gypsy, my dog (no relation)
every day. There are days of discouragement however, don't
get me wrong. There are moments of non-acceptance; depression.
I feel marred, like I am damaged goods.
August
21, 2007.
Oh
my God - again! My fishing
trip began with quite a bang - literally. I was involved
in a car accident Thursday night, August 16, the night before
leaving for Northern Quebec. Never had an accident in my
life. Did 'er up good though - did about $5000 damage to
the front end of my truck. Had whiplash, didn't go to hospital,
but went fishing anyway...tired of hospitals. Nothing that
a few days on an inland lake, deep in the woods, can't cure...will
post pics when I return from Ontario. Headin' to
Ontari-ari-ari-o again, August 26.
August
16, 2007.
GONE
FISHIN'!
August
14, 2007.
Oh
my God - we had the wickedest thunderstorm here last night.
It rolled in around 11:00 pm. I really went into a panic.
The trees were bent over, the dogs were running all over
the place - my Gypsy (no relation...) too came and took
a spot beside the bed. She usually takes a storm in stride.
The crackling thunder following intense lightning had me
crawling down two sets of stairs on my ass to the office,
in order to unplug my computer. It really hit me how vulnerable
you are when you're missing a foot. Because it usually takes
at least an hour of being wrapped before attempting to put
on my prosthesis, I was unable to put it on during the storm.
I sleep with my stump unwrapped, so putting on my prosthesis
in a hurry is out of the question. All I could think of
was, "What if this storm spins out a tornado? I'm up
you-know-what-creek without a paddle." Well
it was all over in a furious 15 minutes, thank God, 'cause
I was shakin' in my jammies and not much consolation for
my dog...
August
6, 2007.
Sorry
for the delay folks, but I'v had a ton of writing assignments
on the go lately, and along with my new found freedom (from
learning how to walk with a prosthesis) came canning and
making jam duties. Yep, it's a well kept secret that I can
keep a house and do Haus-Frau kitchen duties - in addition
to the biker chick thing. Don't like to admit to that, for
fear that someone will one day want to make a good wife
outta me - AGAIN. Been there, done that...
Once
again, thanks for all the letters you have been sending
- lots of tips from other amputees, bike mods and such.
I will try and get the pics uploaded as soon as I get a
free hour - actually more like two free hours.
By the time I dump everything into the specific folders,
then import them into my web program, save to the FTP folder
then upload, it will be a minimum of two hours' time. People
just don't realize how much time it takes just for one
photo to be brought into these pages!
Between
jars of jam and string bean pickles, I managed to get out
to a couple of really cool events. The rodeo is making its
rounds through Quebec, and I went to the Festivities Western
at St- Victor de Beauce. Got some great shots and had an
equally great time. It was smokin' HOT
that day, and with my slightly- covered-with-hair bald head,
I nearly fried - that's with a bandana on it. But
people were very kind, we were all sitting on those tiered
outdoor stadium benches, you know the wooden kind with all
the splinters and people's toes in your ass. They helped
pick me up each time I returned from the outdoor portables.
Had difficulties climbing up to my spot with my prosthesis.
My "residual limb" (stump) has reduced so much
now that I need to don a ton of those nylon socks to take
up the space in my socket. One day I actually had 21! In
addition to making it difficult to bend my leg, it is hot
on a hot day, together with the neoprene sheath that holds
my leg on. As a result, I have had some skin problems, mainly
blister-like bubbles, with no liquid inside, rashes, and
scaly skin. I have only just been informed I need to change
the socks EACH day, wash them in special prosthetic anti-bacterial
soap, as well as the skin, socket and sleeve. That's more
than my underwear... No, just kiddin'. Now before I go and
get a bunch of letters from you guys about that last comment,
it was a joke, okay? A JOKE!
I
also went to stock car races last Saturday night. I love
the mud that gets flying at those events. Next week I plan
on going to the demolition derby, and asphalt races Friday.
Will try to get pics. Following today's entry are some pics
I took at the rodeo and Saturday night's races.
Construction
has begun on my studio. I am very excited, I will finally
have my creative space. It can't go up fast enough - I am
sooo cramped in my basement office, I can't even get to
my cutting table. (The cutting table is where I cut matting
and photographs I have reproduced for sale - my photography.)
Stock
Car Races, East Broughton, Quebec



Festivities
Western Rodeo St-Victor de Beauce, Quebec

On
again...

off
again.


July
20, 2007.
I
took a run into Maine this week, and took a flat on my sidecar
wheel, approximately 10km outside of Jackman, Maine. I heard
the freakin' thing go too - a loud pssssssssst and next
thing I know I'm on the side of the road. So I rode her
into Jackman as is - in first gear. Man, what a workout
that was.The sweat was just pourin' off me and
my triceps darn near melted right off. Now let me tell ya,
there are no bike shops in Jackman. There are only men driving
around in 4X4 pick-ups wearing red and black checkered flannel
shirts and sporting good ol' fashioned Grizzly Adams beards.
But don't let that deter ya - the people are super kind,
so I found out. Just the fact they spoke English made me
feel right at home. The tire shop dude kindly telephoned
another guy who raced motocross.That dude (sporting
same said beard) and his friend showed up with tools and
took my rim off, took it back to his place and mounted a
real authentic motocross tire - that was all he had, and
I wasn't about to complain. Grinning, he explained, "It
ain't legal ya know." My response? "I don't really
give a fuck if it's legal or not. Just mount the fuckin'
thing right on there so that I'm rollin' again." We
had a chuckle. Well, super nice, only charged me $80 total
- tire, labour, the 15 minute run one way out, back home
and out again. Now, have ya ever run a motocross tire at
110km/hour? I had to put in my ear plugs, the howl was so
loud. Louder than my straight pipes - no joke! Let me tell
you, things are never boring around here...below are pics,
and if you're ever in Jackman, Maine, don't forget to drop
in at Moose River Tire and say Hi to Razor- tell him you
heard he was a decent dude, from Roadgypsy. Can't forget
Randy and Garrett at Long Pond Camps and Guide Service -
they were very kind.

Very
tall dudes... L-R: Garrett, Roadgypsy and Randy

Trouble
outside Jackman, Maine

Check
that tread!
July
9 , 2007.
"Liberating
to need just crutches"? It certainly has been a long
time since making an entry (but learning how to walk takes
up a lot of my time). I am now walking around with a cane,
and at times, unassisted. I've got it down to about 7 minutes,
putting on my prosthesis. We all take things for granted;
especially the simple things. Taking stairs takes twice
as long now. My dog Gypsy (no relation) is very happy I
have resumed walking her. Okay, just once. Could barely
do the 20 minute goal I had set for myself, but I plan on
increasing that by five each day.
I
had a GREAT trip to Ontario! It had been too long. Friends
and family welcomed me warmly, and it did wonders for my
morale. Had a pleasant Canada Day catching up with the locals
from where I used to live. Met with Gwen from Motorcycle
Mojo, she graciously took me out for lunch. Had a tour of
their new offices. Congratulations Motorcycle Mojo Magazine
on a beautiful new work space - I'm jealous, as I am still
writing out of a very
cramped basement office! The next month should
solve that - as the construction of my new studio should
be complete.
Took
a road trip with my daughter up the shores of Lake Huron
- what a great place, that Ontario. Unfortunately, I was
unable to do it on the bike - no endurance yet. Actually,
as funky as the sidecar is, I'm thinking about returning
to two wheels. Just need more practise on the prosthesis
thing. But how would I flex the foot part? A flexible foot
is EXPENSIVE, too! Just to get
a manually adjustable foot (to enable me to change the angle
to accommodate high heels/flat soles) is around $4000. For
the physically active, it is even more $$. How do these
guys do it when they snowboard? I am realizing just how
limited my abilities are.
Went
out with friends to see Jamie Williams (producer of my CD)
play. Man, that guy sure is talented. I am inspired each
time I watch. Makes me think to cut off my nails, pick up
my guitar and start all over again...that's where I am -
at the beginning again with everything!
June
3, 2007.
Yesterday
I wore my prosthesis around the house and outside for a
total of 6 hours!! Too long for now I know, but it was just
so liberating to need just crutches I didn't want to take
it off. My right hip gives me tremndous pain when I am not
using the prosthesis, just my walker. I even did some gardening
with the thing, but had difficulties bending down to plant
and dig with a small spade. I needed a lot of "socks"
(those panti-hose slips) which left my behind-the-knee spot
very stiff and difficult to bend. How do people do this?
I don't know. Anyway, feel a little more free with my prosthesis.
Definitely faster getting around than using my four-footed
walker. Today, I couldn't be bothered putting the damn thing
on. Takes too long.
Mom
and dad left yesterday to go back to Ontario. I need to
get home for a visit. I am sure that will lift my spirits
greatly.
June
1, 2007.
I decided I would make a cover-up
for my prosthesis in swimsuit lycra to match a bikini I
just bought yesterday with mom. I give up. No one has anything
in the colours to match my suit, and it would just look
rediculous anyway. If I want to walk around at the beach
with my friends, I need my prosthesis. If I am on a towel,
I need to take the fuckin' thing off. Then it's a riga-ramole
to put it back on. I can just picture it now. I don't even
feel like going out shopping anymore. Everyone stares at
you like you're from outer space. The stores cater to two-footed
people who are Twiggy-thin. Can't even get my wheel chair
around the displays and product bins. To top it off, changerooms
don't even have a bench or chair in them. How are seniors
supposed to do this? I am sure they have dificulties
trying on clothes!! I can't even fit my walker into the
rooms nevermind a wheelchair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I am furious!
May
30, 2007.
I
finished my song yesterday, and boy is it a good one. Pretty
much the original thoughts on my paper, very little editing.
I love when that happens! Played it for my ergo therapist,
Claudine, and she cried. An artist loves it when they have
moved someone, when their music affects their audience like
that. It helped a tiny bit with my depression. I wonder
if everyone goes through this? The worst part is living
with the fear - the fear of the "C" word.
My
mom and dad arrived today from Ontario. They are just so
supportive (and good parents should be) - my mom
has this way of building my spirits up to feeling hopeful.
I need to cling to some hope, because these days are quite
dark.
May
29, 2007.
Still
having a great bout of depression. Can't sleep, and just
a feeling of hopelessness has overcome me. I realized after
barely squeezing in 200km this past weekend on my bike,
that my motorcycle life will never be the same. Although
I modified my bike by moving my shifter to the right and
adding a sidecar, it is exhausting to ride the thing. I
don't enjoy the ride because the wind takes the sidecar,
and it is just work. Originally without the sidecar, and
before the amputation, my bike had been lowered to the max
- resulting in very poor suspension - like next to nothing.
The guys at Butt Buffer thank God gave me a comfortable
seat, but I am just in dire need of a softer ride. The sidecar
is set-up ok, but my endurance is gone. I get so tired easily,
and now I am really frustrated. I have no desire to ride.
I am told a trike would be better - but who has $30 000?
I invested all of my hard earned savings into my bike with
the purchase of the sidecar, and I have no endurance. This
really sucks! Where did my 500-600km days go?
This
is really hopeless. Last night I finally forced myself to
my piano after writing down all of my depressing thoughts
onto a sheet of paper, lying hoplessly in bed. I sat down
at my piano with the paper full of words, and magically
the music just "happened". I poured all of my
emotions into a song. (I have my piano at the rehabilitation
centre. In the fall I purchased an FP2 Roland 88 key portable.
I just love the thing, but never have time to play anymore.
So I took it to the centre and I have time in the evenings
to play. I sleep at the centre through the week.) I just
need to add another verse to the song, but the intro and
everything just came like magic. It was a real relief to
write. I started to feel hopeless about that too.
It's been a long creative dry spell.
May
28, 2007.
After
all the months of "false acceptance", I finally
crashed down yesterday. This is difficult to write because
I am still emotionally not doing so well. I received my
prosthesis on the 24th, and all of a sudden it hit me: this
is for life. There is no "sexy" with a stump.
When it's bikini season, how do I wear one, with this ugly
neoprene sleeve collecting all of my sweat underneath? Yep,
it sounds petty, compared to what I went through two months
ago, that it really is meaningless in the grand scheme of
things, but the feeling is still real and legitimate. All
I could do was cry and cry yesterday. How does one wear
a beautiful summer sandal? Just to put the prosthesis on
takes one hour. There are these little pantihose-like socks
to put on my stump in the inside socket, then on the outside
of the inside-socket. And the number varies from day to
day, and hour to hour, depending on swelling of the stump
and the temperature outside, etc. It's trial and error,
on and off. It doesn't give me the incentive to go outside
at all. Takes too long. I almost feel - well I do
feel, like maybe my stump and walker are enough. Forget
the prosthesis thing.
May
24, 2007.
Preparing
to put prosthesis on, a special liner made from a soft,
rubber-like foam is pulled over nylon "socks".
Then the outer hard shell complete with rod and foot is
slipped over. Rather, I slip my covered stump into it. The
stump actually sits suspended with a soft foam "cake"
sitting in the bottom of the soft inner liner. Contrary
to what people think, it is not the stump that
supports body weight - it is a shelf underneath your knee-cap.
The prosthesis and liner were molded to my individual shape,
molded to the cut off tibial bone - therefore it sits perfectly
(when positioned correct) under my kneecap. The amount of
knylon socks required depends upon many things:the temperature
of the air; the humidity (humidity causes the stump to swell,
requiring less socks to keep the stump from sitting too
deeply in its socket); how long the stump has been wrapped
in bandage, prior to the attemped application. By keeping
the stump wrapped in an elastic bandage when not wearing
the prosthesis, it keeps the stump smaller - hence easier
to apply the prosthesis.

Slipping
in

First
walk
May
20, 2007.

For
the task of making a mold for a prosthesis,
there are several steps.A technician first slips
a panyhose-type sock over my stump. Then the technician
locates and marks, with a special marker, all the bones
of my kneecap as well as the remaining tibial bone in my
leg. This is a critical step, for the prosthesis mold will
need to be shaped to accommodate those bones; otherwise,
the prosthesis will not fit properly, thus resulting in
a great deal of discomfort and skin abrasion.

Measurements
are taken...

Special
cast gauze is moistened, then wrapped around my stump. The
technician then molds the material around my stump, with
her fingers molding the material under my kneecap, and into
the recesses of other bones. It is then slipped off, and
from this, a prosthesis will be made. In my case, the prosthesis
will be specially designed to accommodate my active lifestyle;
it will not only be adjustable between the foot and knee,
but also at the knee, for better flexion. The prosthesis
made from this mold will be used for approximately one year.
During that time, many adjustments will be made.
May
5, 2007.

This
is called the "jobst" machine. It inflates to
push all unwanted liquid back upwards, away from the stump.
It helps to reduce the size of my stump, preparing it for
the day they come to take a cast for a mold which will ultimately
result in my prosthesis.

This
also is a device which when inflated, supports my stump
and helps relieve the pressure when putting - only - 50%
of my body weight onto the stump.