Pat

Pat

The more observant of my faithful blog followers may have noticed the entry of a new friend in my life.  He is pictured in the banner of this blog.  No, it is not "The Cajun" who is pictured below with me giving him the "horns". The Cajun of course is my dear longtime friend that I made a few years before I moved to Delaware in 2007.  And he is a real friend because he as seen all sides of me, both the bad and good (and believe me I have plenty of the bad).  He has proven himself a true friend because even because he has seen the bad side of Ron, he remains a true and devoted (if I can be so bold as to say so) friend.  

The Cajun and (bad) me

Me and "The Cajun" having a disagreement - move on, nothing to see here

Yes folks, my new BF is "Pat".  

Pat is Canadian.  He presently lives in Toronto.  Last week he retired from his job and is now planning on moving to the United States.  Guess where?  Delaware!  Bill and have helped him to find a building lot in nearby Milton. 

Pat was down a few weeks ago.  The three of us (The Cajun, Pat and yours truly) went on the Kalmar Nyckel. Pat is returning for a few weeks early in November to check out his new property.  In addition I'm going to do something that I've wanted to do ever since my 70th birthday, to take a road trip through my old haunts in Pennsylvania including Philadelphia where I worked and lived many years.  Bill doesn't like to drive in those heavily congested areas but Pat said he wouldn't mind.  We're planning on meeting Dr. Spo and Anne Marie of Philly in King of Prussia on November 7th and then we'll drive to Philly to meet my longtime friend Don.

And oh yes, Don has also seen the bad side of Ron and remained a friend.  

You know there are just some people who bring out the best in you no matter how bad you feel or act sometimes.  Add Pat to that list. I've been very lucky in my life that I have more than my share of such friends who like me JUST THE WAY I AM.  So important folks, so important.  And now you all can add my friend Pat From Tornonto to that list of FOR, or "Friends of Ron."  Hmmmm.....does that sound too self-serving?  Oh well, if you really are my friend you would understand.  That's me. 

Pat (my new BF) and me in my driveway.  

Pat and me at Old Time Photo in Rehoboth Beach, DE

Now if I can just talk my friend Don into getting an old time photo with me.  

'ARRRGH!'

Me and Wayne De'Cajun practicing our "ARRRGHS" on the Kalmar Nyckel (one of the requirements before we set sail)

That was me and Wayne De'Cajun the past ten days.  Oh man, little did we know that shortly after we took out little jaunt on the Kalmar Nyckel on that beautiful, sunny August 20th.  Just a week later both of us were admitted to Beebe Hospital.  Wayne was dangerously anemic and I was going down with a .6mm kidney stone.  Yep, this is the way both of probably looked upon entering the emergency room of Beebe Hospital.  "ARRRRGH!"

Wayne and Pat waiting to board the Kalmar Nyckel

Today I'm happy to say we're both in the recovery mode (thank God!)  Wayne has all new blood flowing through his supple limbs (you're welcome Wayne).  My .6mm kidney stone was blasted to smithereens last Wednesday by laser during a very invasive emergency operation (think about it, I won't explain the details).  

Me, Mary Hudson (one half of the first married same sex couple in Delaware) and Wayne

We're both slowly regaining our strength.  Wayne's already been back to work.  I return this Thursday night, then Friday then Saturday night.  That regimen should put be right back in the saddle from which I fell two weeks ago.  It will be good to get back to work, I miss it (did I just say what I think I just said)?

Wayne and Pat headed towards the Kalmar Nyckel

I have many nice pictures that I took during our trip around the Delaware Bay braying "ARRRGH!" at fellow crew members and passerby's. I'm just sorting through them now.  I didn't have a chance during my horrific kidney stone episode.  Somehow that drama took all of my attention (tell me about it).  

Wayne getting ready to board the Kalmar Nyckel

We all had a wonderful time on the Kalmar but I did get a bit seasick.  Funny thing that, I never get seasick.  I suspect my nauseousness was a precursor to me passing my kidney stone.  Remember, I passed one shortly thereafter but had to go back to the hospital emergency room twice because the other kidney stone was stuck.  I don't blame anyone for finding this confusing, I'm not absolutely straight on the timeline myself.  Oh well, next Friday my remaining kidney stone babies will be history, also smashed to smithereens. 

Wayne with his wench on the Kalmar.  I always suspected Wayne was STRAIGHT!  And here he had us fooled all these years just because he wanted to work in Rehoboth. Wayne, straight people can work in Rehoboth too.  Just saying.

So the next two days Wayne and I have OFF!  I don't have any doctors' appointments scheduled.  Thursday morning I do have to get my blood work at the VA Outpatient clinic in Georgetown prior to my "bath" next week.  Other than that, I'm clear sailing until next Friday.  Hallelujah! 


Here's a taste of the ride folks.  Enjoy!

Medical Update: Kidney Stone Bath

Yeah, I'm Laurence and Tony is going to give me my "bath" - sure - I wish

This morning my urologist scheduled my kidney stone "bath" for September 20th.  See here for how this "bath" works.

My doctor tells me that I still have two large (.6 millimeter) kidney stones lodged above my right kidney.  He has to keep the stent in my ureter because to take it out would be (in his words) "like running a red light."  I would be taking a great chance that one or both of those kidney stones would drop and I would return to the hell I had for eight days last week.  

He explained to my why he wanted to wait to see if could pass the .6 millimeter (above average of .5 millimeter) stone on my own.  Remember the week previously I successfully passed a .4 millimeter kidney stone.  He said "everyone is different.  Most people are able to pass a .6 millimeter kidney stone on their own but my ureter canal is smaller and you were unable to pass it." 

Thus I have to wait a week after taking myself off of my baby aspirin regimen (which thins the blood).  I gave him my EKG report from my cardiologist (which I had taken last Friday), which gives him approval for the surgery.  I will be under anesthetic for the surgery which will take place in Milford, Delaware.  Our local hospital doesn't have the equipment to perform this kind of surgery.  Thank God it is non invasive as far as cutting me or inserting yet another instrument in my private parts (had enough of that this year).  But they do have to knock me out, which is just fine with me.  He also said the week's time will enable the swelling to go down in my right kidney which went through a lot of trauma the past ten days (tell me about it).  

What I imagine the facility in Milford, DE looks like where I will get my kidney stone bath - Medicare pays for this?

I am slowly regaining my strength.  I was even able to make a full meal (ratatouille) last night but I was drained when it was all over.  

When I was weighed in this morning the doctor's assistant told me "You've lost eleven pounds since your August visit."  I've been wondering how I was going to lose that developing roll around my middle but I wouldn't advise going on the "passing the kidney stone diet."  Folks, I cannot emphasize enough what I went through the last ten days.  I don't consider myself a whiner or complainer (despite what Bill says) but I was whimpering pretty bad there for a few days.  I really thought I was on my way out and if I wasn't, I wanted to go.  

Enough of my feeling sorry for myself.  A Pity Party is good every now and then but this one has been a bit too long.  I am anxious to get back to normal activity or at least what passes for normal around Casa Tipton-Kelly.  I want it so bad folks.  I hope by the time my family reunion comes around on October 6th I will be up to full steam.  I'm making calls now, making arrangements with the caterer and perhaps even music this year!  I definitely want a big celebration.  You just never know when you might not ever have the opportunity again.  Live for now folks.  That's the best advice I can give, given my experiences of the past few weeks.  Live for now.  Tomorrow will take care of itself.  Of course a little nest egg helps too.  Don't go crazy but you know what I mean.  

Have a great day!!!!

"Free at last!"

The Long Road Home

Ike Tipton, my dad, after open heart surgery November 1999

Mom wrote on the back of this photo "Isaac and Pop coming home 1999."  Isaac is my brother Isaac, Jr.  He was helping our father down the walkway into his home.  My brother Isaac is on the left, our father is on the right holding on to the rail.  Our father never leaned on his sons but today he had no choice.  He wanted to go home.

My father, Isaac Walter Tipton, Sr. died August 22, 2000.  He was 80 years old.  He died of lung cancer.  The previous November he had open heart surgery.  I remember the day exactly because his surgery was on my birthday, November 9th.  

Pop and Ike, Jr. in one of his many earlier vegetable gardens

My father was a physically active man up to his open heart surgery.  Pop loved his vegetable garden.  I remember him struggling for breath to walk the few yards to his garden just so he could do what he enjoyed the most, be out in the open air growing his veggies in friendly competition with his older brother Edward Walter Tipton, Sr.

"Pop" (my dad) with his best friend his brother Ed

Each year they had a friendly is serious competition who would harvest the biggest and sweetest tomato.

Pop at "home", his vegetable garden - no flowers allowed

Pop was never the same after his open heart surgery.  In fact, during surgery they discovered he had inoperable lung cancer.  They didn't tell him they discovered he had lung cancer.

During the next nine months my father struggled to regain his old vigor and activity.  I often saw him sitting up by his garage, half way to his garden, stopping to get his breath.  I remember watching him sitting in his favorite chair in the house (in which no one else was allowed to sit - his "Archie Bunker Chair") arms crossing his chest trying to alleviate the pain that just wouldn't go away.  We, the family, could only look on and do nothing.  Oh he had painkillers, which constipated him which he hated.  He was a lifelong laxative user who believe in a daily "movement."  If he didn't have one, he would become very morose. 
He also had oxygen tanks in the house to help him breath but he didn't want that tether.  

Up to two weeks before he entered the hospital and died from his lung cancer, he was working in his garden, tending his corn crop, checking for insects and cursing the birds that always used to peck at his ripened corn.  

Then he went into the hospital for the last time.  The pain was just too unbearable.  

He was hooked up to so many wires;, pain killers, oxygen and who knows what else.  He was hallucinating, worried about his garden.  We tried to make him as comfortable as possible but there was no hope.  He didn't want to be kept alive by artificial means.  When we (the family) was told off to the side of the curtain surrounding his bed,  that there was no hope, his doctor was crying.  My father may have been a rough man during his physically active life, and distant from his sons but he was a cream puff in the hospital, everyone loved him.  And we did too.  After all he was my father.  I resemble him in so many way, not only physically but in temperament and mannerisms, sometimes much to my chagrin.  My Mother once told me "Pop is proud of you."  That was enough for me.

When he heard from us that there was no hope he said "Get Dr. Kevorkian."  He said it in semi-jest but he was serious.  We could have prolonged his life by a week or two by colbolt treatments but that would only cause him more needless pain.  He had suffered enough.  His doctors and hospital staff did everything they could to make his final days as comfortable and pain free as possible.  Of course they weren't comfortable but he wasn't suffering the extreme pain so much because of the morphine drip.  But he wasn't totally there either.  

I handled the funeral arrangements.  When I was asked to pick out the casket I immediately saw one that said "Going home" on the inside of the lid.  That was it.  That was for Pop, he was "going home."  

Folks, the past two weeks have been Hell for me.  I'm still recovering from my three visits to the Emergency room in 10 days.  Two days ago I was released from the hospital after emergency surgery to removed a blocked kidney stone from my ureter canal.  I still have two kidney stones that have to be blasted away by something called a "kidney stone bath."  In the meantime I have a stent in my ureter canal which is uncomfortable but not painful. I have to urinate frequently.  I cannot hold it in.  My urine contains blood clots and blood, which I am told is "normal" for when one has a stent.  

My visit to the emergency room - three times!

During my two day stay in the hospital, after suffering the at times unbelievable pain of passing a kidney stone, I was pumped up with pain killers, waiting for that kidney stone to pass.  It only moved one centimeter.  The look on the doctor's sorrowful look on her face when she told me that was one of "How could you stand the pain that long?"  I don't know folks, I really don't know.  All I know is that I was trying to hang on but I felt like I was slipping.  I felt like my fingers were on the edge of a cliff and my grip was loosening one finger at a time.  

Me in pain waiting for the pain killers to take effect - I truly didn't care if I died 

Folks, I have to tell you it got so bad that I was ready to go.  Yes, I was ready to die.  I just wanted it to end.  I teared up realizing I had so much that I haven't done in my life.  And poor Bill; standing over to the side unable to do anything to help.  And here I was letting everyone down.  My friends, my co-workers and someone else who has become very special to me.  I felt like I was chickening out because I was ready to give up.  I was so tired of fighting to hang on. So, so tired.

Poor Bill, going through Hell too - he was with me every moment

However, the folks at the hospital went into emergency mode.  They made me as comfortable as possible.  Of course they pumped me up with pain medication which reminded me of my father's situation.

But things got better.  My doctor admitted me to the hospital that night (this past Monday night).  They waited another two days for my kidney stone to pass, it didn't.  Then at 5 o'clock Tuesday afternoon I had surgery to blast the kidney stone.  They couldn't keep me on pain killers any longer.

Pain free, finally

The next day I had my first real food in almost a week.  Before my third visit to the emergency room, I ate hardly anything.  Then when I was admitted I was on intravenous fluids for two days. Having breakfast served to me in bed was a real treat, but I'm not one for eating in bed.  Crumbs and all that you know plus it hurts my back.  Still it was so good to reenter the world of the living again, pain free, albeit with a stent which wasn't too comfortable.

Breakfast!

By the way folks, I finally lost that annoying semi-spare tire I had around my waist.  I lost eleven pounds during this ordeal.  I'm down to 159, under 160 which is my ideal weight.  I can wear those size 32 waist pants now!  But it sure is a helluva way to lose weight.

Then I was told to get up and walk around.  I had been basically bed ridden for the past ten days.  

Here I am getting ready for my "stroll" with my open back "nightie" - I really didn't care  about making a fashion statement. Once my hair went, I lost all interest in appearances.

I was released form the hospital on Wednesday morning.  Still very weak and beat up.  And constipated, very constipated.  In fact the next day at 4:30 am in the morning I had a crises that was almost as bad as the kidney stone pain.  I had to take a bowel movement so bad but couldn't.  I was on the verge of panic. I didn't want to go to the hospital again and have a hose stuck up my behind but I was almost there.  Thank God I had a spare Fleet enema which I took.  RELIEF!  

So since coming home Wednesday I have slowly been regaining my strength.  I didn't realize how low I was.  And another thing I didn't realize, how much I wanted to get back to my normal physical activities.  I tried but just kept running out of gas.  I was again reminded of my father, and how much he tried to get back to where he was but just couldn't.  

This morning I was going through some old photographs, looking for one which was requested by a French filmmaker of all people.  He saw a photo of me with my Sousaphone and asked permission to use it in his film about a boy and his Sousaphone.  Don't ask, this is the truth.  Of course I gave him permission.  He asked if I had one of a better resolution.  That is the print I was looking for.  However, going through those prints I found these two prints of when I was at the height of my physical activity.  When I worked full-time as a bank operations supervisor in Philadelphia, enjoyed a full gay social life in Philadelphia and also was engaged in many activities around my home.  I never ever gave a thought to my physical endurance being limited.  Back then August 7, 1977, I thought I was invincible.  

Me coming home with a bag full of shopping (of things I probably didn't need) to Bill at our Philadelphia town house. After a full day of work I'm ready for a full evening of activity

Like my father I love gardening too.  Not so much the vegetables, too much trouble keeping the bugs off and it's too easy to get fresh veggies without all that aggravation.  However, I do love plant and flower gardening.  Bill built me a roof deck on our Philadelphia town house so I could garden and work on my tan at the same time.  This photo was taken by Bill of me with a Polaroid without my knowledge.  I remember I would rush home after work at 5 o'clock and try to get a few rays of sun to work on my tan.  Of course the tanning never worked but I did enjoy my time on our roof deck garden.

Me, August 7, 1977 on our roof deck in Philadelphia

I look at these pictures and marvel that I was ever so shallow as to think that I would be this healthy and vigorous forever.  

This November 9th, on the 14th anniversary to the day of my father's open heart surgery and when his health started to fail, I will be 72 years old.  My father was 80 years old when he died.  I don't know if that means I have eight years left but one thing I do know, I won't ever be than young kid on the roof deck in Philadelphia who could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted without fear.  These days I know my limitations and I value each and every moment I have of good health.

During my recent stay in the hospital a good friend of mine also had a near death experience.  A very unusual coincidence in that we were both in the hospital at the same since a week earlier we were both on the Kalmar Nyckel enjoying a sail (with a little help by a motor) around the Delaware Bay. Little did we know what fate had in store for us in just a few days.  We both had a brush with death.

Wayne DeCajun and me on the Kalmar Nyckel August 20th, 2013

This could have been our last photo together had it not been for the heroic efforts of the Beebe Hospital to save us, two old buzzards who have long lived past their prime but will live to see another day, provide a few laughs and even bring happiness to ourselves and others in the process of living our own special unique lives.

But one thing I have gained from my experience these past eventful days is that when my time does come, as it surely will, I wish someone would pick out one of those coffins for me that says "Going Home."  Then I will be at peace and one with the universe.  As a friend quoted a phrase from "Evita" on his blog entry about a death of his neighbor, "he has now entered immortality."  That is a nice turn of a phrase and the way I would like to be remembered, whatever unfinished business I leave here on earth. 

However, until then it looks as if I'll be around just a bit longer to ruffle some more feathers, rock a few boats, make some waves and perhaps, if I am just fortunate enough, to make a few very special people in my life very happy.  I still have some living to do folks.  I plan to make these the best years of my life. Everything up until now has only been a preamble.  

I will be forever grateful to those who wished me well and who cared for my well being.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.  

Pat and Wayne prior to boarding the Kalmar Nyckel - Friends 

Guess Where I've Been The Past Few Days?

Waiting for my completed paperwork yesterday to leave the hospital

Yep, I've been in the hospital.  I went in Monday night and left yesterday afternoon after my surgery on Tuesday afternoon.  

More about my "adventure" hopefully later today. Just wanted to touch base with you all to let you know I'm still alive and kicking.  But the past two weeks and especially the past two days have been especially rough. But I'm a tough old bird and I'm still here. It's going to take more than a goddamn stuck kidney stone to take me out.  

My "Leggins" - to keep the swelling down in my lower extremities - felt good!

Admission night - Monday - wired up and what's with my hair?
Intravenous painkiller in my right arm and fed my intravenous fluids in my right hand - one sick pup

Worst Day Yet

Beebe Hospital Lewes DE Emergency Room entrance - Thank God, last minute change of plans

Yesterday was my worst day for this damn kidney stone.  I thought I was doing so well because when I got up in the morning I had no pain.  I didn't take any painkillers all day.  Late in the afternoon I called my friend Larry on FaceTime. I haven't talked to him in over a week.  Usually we talk every day.  Oh, he's sick and bed ridden too.  He has a cold or flu.  I feel so bad for him. I went through that same thing last year.....after I had my flu shot.

So, while I was talking to him, I must have gotten too animated with my arms and disturbed my kidney stone which has been on the move which seems like forever, and I felt THE PAIN.  I told Larry "I'm feeling the pain again."  

I got off the computer, took my painkiller medicine and laid down on my bed.  However, this time was different.  The pain only increased, and increased and INCREASED.  The pain killers weren't working!  

I twisted this way and that way in my bed but nothing would alleviate the ever increasing pain. Finally after an hour an a half of just unbelievable waves of pain I struggled out of bed to our sun room where Bill was sitting.  I told him "Bill, you're going to have to take me to the emergency room.  I think something else is going on."  

Oh I so DID NOT WANT to go to the emergency room again, the third time in as many weeks.  But I could no longer endure the ever increasing pain which was taking place on my lower right back side.  Right where my kidney is.  I know what is causing it, that damn kidney stone which is stuck.

Bill said he would be ready in a few minutes.  I got my prescription list, my iPhone charger and I was ready, even though I was bent over in excruciating pain.  

Even getting in the car is almost impossible but I couldn't wait for an ambulance, they would take too long.

Thank God it wasn't high fucking noon with all the weekend holiday travelers clogging up Route One.  We had a fairly easy time going down Savannah Road.  Just as we were within a block of Beebe Hospital, my pain began to end.  Just like that.  Not immediately but the dull, stabbing, killing pain that made me want to die subsided little by little.  I began to feel human again.  

I said to Bill "Just pull in the parking lot.  The pain seems to be going away."  He did.  After a few minutes I got out and started to walk around.  That's when I took the picture at the top of this blog.  After another ten minutes the pain was back to just the soreness that I've had since my kidney stone began its Journey last Saturday.  I can handle that pain.

Bill took me home.  I took more pain medication and went to bed to lay flat on my back which seems to be the best position for me to relieve as much of the pain as I can.

I stayed in that position the rest of the night. I had my iPhone with me (thank God) so I can keep in touch with the outside world and check my e-mails and comments on my blog.  I'm trying to keep everyone informed.  I don't want to go blank screen during one of the most important health crises of my life.  Folks, this is the worst I've ever experienced, the worst bar none.

I'm taking a chance right now by sitting up typing this blog.  I know that pain can return in minutes.

However what I am doing now is taking my pain killer medicine every four hours whether I have pain or not.  I just cannot go through again what I went through yesterday afternoon.  I just cannot.

One more day folks. I see my doctor tomorrow at 12:30.  One more day.

Still Coping

The saga continues folks.  Nope, I haven't passed my kidney stone yet.  Two more days and my doctor blasts it.  

I had a restful sleep last night.  I awoke this morning without pain but I know it can return within seconds, bringing me to my knees in pain.  Folks, I am not exaggerating how intense the pain is.  Thank God my doctor gave me another prescription for pain killer pills.  As soon as I feel that sinking feeling coming on I take one pill (haven't had to take two at a time yet).  Then I lay down perfectly flat on my back in my bed.  The pain washes over me like a mean tidal wave.  "Woosh!" and "Waash!"  I take it, I have no other choice than to go to the ER and have painkillers administered intravenously, which works faster but doesn't solve the problem that I had a kidney stone trying to escape from my body.  

I close my eyes as the pain continues to sweep over me.  After about ten minutes I can feel a slight lessening of pain, although it is still very painful.  Then after about 25 minutes the pain is gone and I feel like I'm almost a human being again.  That's the way I spent most of yesterday, in my bed....sleeping and trying not to move too much lest I disturb my kidney stone and start it to move again.  I am convinced that this stone will not pass on it's own, it is just too big.

I have an appointment on Tuesday at 12:30 at my doctor's office to fill out the authorization paperwork for the surgical procedure to blast away this damn stone.  I don't know if the procedure will take place then but at least something is being done.  My doctor had hoped for the "conservative approach" (his words) and let the stone move on it's own but that isn't happening (of course).  

This is one for the books folks.  Someday in the future I'll laugh about this "lost weekend" but right now it isn't so funny.