BLOGGER RULES: COMPLAIN, A LOT

Blogger rules depend on the personality of the writer, but complaining endlessly is a common thread.

I’m not a complainer, so it’s more difficult.

Where is the starting line?

So far I’ve tried complaining about cancer.

Who doesn’t?

I started in the cancer ward, talking it up with my fellow radiation and chemo comrades.

My main complaint was why did people blame nurses for cancer.

One women left with this sweet goodbye:

“I hate this place and everyone in it. I hope I never see any of you the rest of my life. You are awful.”

My takeaway: We all hate being in a cancer ward. Fuck cancer, right?

If you’re not there, you don’t have cancer. But if you do have cancer, and skip treatment? It could be a shorter ‘rest of your life.’

I asked the nurse bringing me a warm blanket, “What the hell was that?”

She said, “Some people have an angry reaction to life saving treatment.”

Angry reaction?

My angriest reaction came when one doctor prescribed every chemo he could think of along with a chemo pump, then getting a second opinion for only one chemo.

Huh?

The maximum chemo doctor charged insurance $500 for giving me the tour of his facility and telling me his program.

My next angriest was getting a haircut before the second opinion.

I got the worst haircut money could buy with idea of it all falling out as a relief from looking like hungry chickens had pecked my hair out.

(Hey Mark.)

Me: Will I lose my hair with chemo?

Second opinion doc: No.

Me to myself: Son of a bitch, why’d I hack my hair up?

Blogger rules say take your medicine like a grateful person dodging death.

ICU Complaining

I spent the night in the local Intensive Care Unit after a heart to heart talk.

Heart to heart sounds healing most of the time.

This time it was a dagger to my heart.

I made a promise not to argue, bitch, or moan and just listen.

I listened and listened and listened until I’d heard it all.

Promise kept.

The follow-up promise hasn’t gone so well, but your boy made a good effort.

The most important part of it all was opening doors of communication that had been shut.

Nurse: Do you think you can get out of bed and walk?

Me: Yes.

Nurse: We’ll walk halfway down the unit and back.

Me at the turnaround: Why only halfway.

Nurse: Because the exit doors are at the end and some patients make a run for it.

Me: Do I look like a runner?

Nurse: It’s our policy.

Me: I ran a marathon once. 3:32.

Nurse: That’s nice.

Me: I mean 2:32.

Nurse: Maybe it was 1:32.

Me: Yeah, maybe 4:32.

I got wheeled out the exit in a big-ass wheelchair the next day.

It wouldn’t fit through the exit because of a sharp turn on the other side of the door so I had to stand up.

That’s when the healing began. No meds, no surgery, just letting time do the work. And it did.

Blogger rules say make it sound worse than it was for maximum engagement.

Travel Complainer

This is the drill:

Get up at three in the morning, catch a scheduled ride at 4:30.

Wife has pre-TSA clearance. I don’t.

Catch a plane at 7:00 and feel wiped out the rest of the day.

Then things smooth out.

Me: This is early.

Wife: At least we’re not wasting a day for travel. We get in early, get things done, and leave late.

Me: We get home in the dark.

Wife: It’ll be light out when we leave, then nighttime. It’s dark at night.

Me: They say it’s best to travel toward the light to avoid jet lag.

Wife: It’s a two hour flight. We’ll be fine.

Me: Yeah, but . . .

We were like she said, fine. Fine and dandy.

Blogger rules say be a better traveler.

Main Blogger Rules

Be consistent, but do new things.

Don’t blame others, but question why things are the way they are.

If you need to hype yourself, do it with a goal in mind.

For example:

Subscribe to BoomerPdx no matter your age.

Learn how old people relate.

Discover why young people resent baby boomers.

Take notice of why people hate Portland.

Tell them they’re wrong.

Make a list for an American Resume.

Listen to financial advice from a former NBA player.

Most of all, have the courage to stand by your convictions.

If that sounds impossible, maybe you don’t have the right convictions.