I’ve been taking karate lessons off and on for years now. I started with my Dad and my brothers… at some young age, and have tried to continue those lessons as life has permitted. For the past year and half, I’ve been taking lessons at my church. Saturday, I competed in my first tournament in many years. It went well, overall, and, as I’d hoped, was very educational. …
In a recent Twitter/Facebook post, I mentioned that my birthday, while good, was emotionally exhausting and promised an explanation. If you don’t want possibly too much medical information, you may want to move. Otherwise, here it is…
As some of you may know, my Dad has been fighting esophageal cancer for some time now. He was diagnosed in July of last year and had been taking chemo since then, more or less. Long story short, Dad was admitted to the hospital sometime in the second week of December and by the 22nd, had had 2 different surgeries. The prognosis after the second surgery was “without additional chemo, 6 weeks to 2 months.”
After his initial diagnosis, we knew we didn’t have much time, but this grim news really sent us reeling. I spent the next day, then, my birthday, I spent sitting at the hospital with Dad, giving him wet swabs for his mouth or, later, holding a glass of grape juice so he can get a drink. The giant snow storm came on Christmas Eve, so I wasn’t able to get back to the hospital (or out of my driveway) until Sunday morning, when I was able to take Andrew and Noah up to the hospital to celebrate Christmas with my parents. We had a great, mostly normal time, with Dad feeling well enough to interact with my boys. It was a special time.
Then came Monday. He developed a lump in his throat (and eventually all across his throat), which turned out to be a swollen lymph node. The surgeon felt it was the cancer coming on really aggressively. The medical doctor, though, felt it might just be a normal infection, so he prescribed some antibiotics. The next morning, the swelling had gone down, so it seems the MD was right. He felt, though, that the central line they had put in the week before might be the cause of the infection, so he ordered it removed. During the removal, it appears that Dad “threw a clot” which ended up in his lungs, causing his oxygen levels, blood pressure, etc. to crash hard. We (meaning the doctors) eventually intubated him and moved him to the ICU.
Over the next couple of days, we hoped he would recover, but it was looking more likely that he would not. On Friday, we decided to honor his wish not to be kept alive by a machine and had the tube removed. To our surprise, he came off the vent really well, with all his stats remaining pretty stable. Over the weekend, he did OK, though we had a slight scare on Sunday. Then came Monday.
Monday morning, I was supposed to start back to work. Since I work from home, I thought I’d just go up to the hospital and work from there in the waiting room near his room (I was, in fact, typing this :). At about 10:30, though, Angela came out to tell me that Dad’s breathing had changed, so we raced in. A little over an hour later, Dad was gone. With his family around, he breathed his last.
As I sit here now, a few days later on the evening of his funeral, it’s still hard to process. I keep wanting to tell him some funny thought I just had, or ask him where he keeps his tools. Despite the time we had after his diagnosis to start coming to some sort of acceptance, it has been harder than I could have ever imagined. It’s really, really awful. As I noted on Facebook and Twitter, we don’t grieve as those who have no hope. My Dad knew the Lord, so we know where he is, and we know that we’ll see him again. Selfish as I am, I want him here, though I know he’s much better off now. I miss him terribly already.
So… yeah… that was a hard birthday, especially now looking back. I hate the way it turned out, but I cherish every minute I spent at the hospital that day, the two weeks prior, and the week and a half after. I’d much rather have spent them here in Mom and Dad’s house, where I sit now, but it was my honor and pleasure to sit next to my dying father’s bed, doing what little I could for him.
Frank Pybas, or Pa-Pa, is a man I’ve known for nine or ten years. He’s Angela’s paternal grand dad. In the few years I’ve know him, I’ve come love him and his wife, Martha (or Mam-ma), as if they were my own grandparents. Friday night, after having a meal with his wife at their assisted living center, Pa-Pa collapsed in their apartment. The EMTs and doctors were unable to revive him. …
When I first heard that the President won the Nobel Peace Prize, I was really shocked. My first question, and that of everyone I spoke to this morning, was, "Why?" I was anxious to hear what the professional pundit’s reactions would be. My prediction would be skepticism from the Right, and unbridled glee from the Left. I was only half-right. Other conservatives responded as I did, with confusion and bewilderment.
The reaction from the Left, though, surprised me. While some are all but dancing in the streets, some Leftists — major ones at that — are also confused. Matt Lauer said, “We’re less than a year into the first term of this president and there are no — I’m not trying to be, you know, rude here — no major foreign policy achievements, to date.” He even asked David Gregory, “So, what you’re saying in some ways and, again, not to be rude here or sarcastic, that in some ways he wins this award for not being George W. Bush?” to which Gregory responded, “I think that that is an inescapable conclusion about all of this.” I never thought I’d agree with a post on the The Daily Beast, but I think Peter Beinart got it right:
When it comes down to it, I really don’t care who wins the award. It’s been mostly a farce for years now, with terrorists like Yasser Arafat and warm-mongering junk scientists* like Al Gore winning, I don’t think it’s had any real credibility for a long time. Adam Graham at Race 4 2012 sums it up nicely. What bothers me is how weird it is putting a man who has only talked about peace next to those who labored in slums or languished in prisons. It boggles the mind.
*I say junk science because I don’t buy the sky is falling proclamations of Gore and his ilk. Even if one assumes he’s right, though, how is fighting melting ice caps related to peace? Because people might someday fight over dry land in some sort real life Water World scenario? Absurd.
I don’t have much of substance to add to the Patriots’ Day discussion. My heart, of course, aches for those who lost loved ones. I would, though, like to honor my favorite patriot, my Dad. Here he is in his official Marine Corps photo, circa (I’m guessing a bit) 1968:
Love ya, Dad!
Recently, the President announced that he was going to address school children (or “schoochildren,” according to his web site) about the importance of education. In what was likely a surprise to the White House, parents across the country became quite agitated about the event, some even planning on holding their children out of the event. The reaction of the President’s supporters was quite condescending and insulting. The detractors were called stupid, silly, racist, and “too dumb to raise their own children.” I was one of those opposed to the President’s address, and here’s why. …
Yesterday was a pretty rough and frustrating day at work, but there’s nothing like a late night phone call to put that all in perspective. Yesterday, my Dad got results back from tests run last week. For some time now, he’s had trouble swallowing and finally went in for an exam. Last week, they put a scope down his throat to see what the deal was and found some polyps, if I recall correctly, in his esophagus. The biopsy results on those came back yesterday: esophageal cancer.
Hearing the word ‘cancer’ in connection to others is always saddening. When it’s your Dad, it’s earth-shaking, and this is a scary kind. To make matters worse, we don’t know much at the moment. He’s scheduled for a more thorough scan on August 7. Until then, we just have to wait and pray, trying not to run the various scenarios.
As hard and painful as this is, I think my Dad has the right perspective. He’s confident that the Lord has allowed this for a reason (which may not know for a long time, and perhaps not even on this side of the veil). He told me on the phone that he feels he’s not where he’s supposed to be and the Lord will use this to move him there.
In spite of this awful news, I remain convinced that there is a God in Heaven, and that He holds His own in His hands. As much as I hate to think about the possibility of losing my Dad, I know that he wouldn’t be lost forever. Whether we die today or fifty years from now, those who claim the name of Jesus (as my Dad and I both do), “from [our] flesh..shall see God.” My prayer, of course, is that that day is a long time off, for both of us.
Oh yeah. Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you guys.
Rush Limbaugh is one of the most polarizing figures in American politics. The Left simply can’t stand him. As soon as his name comes up, so does an inordinate amount of bile. Almost without exception in some circles. It was no surprise then, that Rush’s suggestion to Colin Powell to “go be a Democrat” has caused much consternation, even from some on the right. The GOP, we’re told, must be more inclusive! “Stop pushing out people who disagree with you,” critics tell us. I think that’s horrible advice, and I’m not alone.
National Review’s Jonah Goldberg wrote column today that touched on the subject. The immediately relevant section says this:
But the lesson runs deeper than the impending Sotomayor battle. Conventional wisdom also tells us that the GOP needs to become more inclusive. On this score the conventional wisdom is right, if by “inclusive” you mean getting more people to join the party and vote Republican. But many people mean something else by “inclusive.” They think the GOP needs to become the Pepsi to the Democrats’ Coca-Cola, indistinguishable save for small matters of taste and marketing.
Other than having Coke and Pepsi reversed, he makes a great point. There has to be something beyond simple matters of taste that separate the two parties. If our stances are the same, why are there two parties? Just to have the squabbling? Frank J. at IMAO makes a similar point:
They keep saying we can’t be a stronger party if we keep just tossing people out, but those people complaining never seem to say what makes one a Republican other than the choice of registration. Are we just going to be “the other party than the Democrats”? It seems the “moderate” strategy is to be as inoffensive as possible and hope to pick up votes from anyone whoever is currently dissatisfied with the Democrats. So basically, just bank on the Democrats being unpopular eventually, but that’s not enough. We have to be for something, which means being against other things. That means laying down some real differences between the Republican and Democratic Parties other than that they are spelled and pronounced differently. And that means excluding some people who don’t fall on the Republican side of the newly drawn line. We can attract new people for those we leave, but that only happens if we’re strong enough to actually stand for something.
I know I’m committing a mortal sin here, but, in the Church, we have a similar issue. For a given denomination, and, to a lesser degree, the Church as a whole, we have a pretty clear definition of who we are and what we believe. When someone consistently and defiantly violates or rejects those, we have a well-defined process for remediation and, if necessary, ultimately the expulsion of the offender. A healthy church/denomination doesn’t just welcome in every Tom, Dick, and Harry simply to drive up numbers.
Despite national politics being far less important than orthodox theology, I see no reason a party (Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, or whatever) should be so limp-wristed in its dogma that holding any old position should be expected. I’d even argue that it’s necessary for a group of any kind to enforce some sort control over what gets official sanctioning or the group loses any real purpose. There must be room, of course, for the official dogma to change, but it can’t be done on an ad hoc, per-person basis as that splinters the group, diminishing its focus and relevance.
So, yes, Mr. Powell, if you’re going to hold the views you do, and support a president that is diametrically opposed to just about everything Republicans believe, maybe it’s time for you to switch parties. It’s clear that the rank and file don’t agree with you, so I don’t see the party moving, and I’m sure Specter and Jeffords could use some company at the turn-coat’s table.
Recently, apparently, there was a poll for Oklahomans to help choose the official state rock song, a very important task indeed! After the voting was over, The Flaming Lips’ song “Do You Realize” came out on top. The state House, however, overrode the will of the people and stripped the song of its newly won title. Now, I’ll plead a bit of ignorance on part of this. I don’t know if the vote was supposed to be binding. I also don’t know if the House was supposed to vote to ratify the poll and didn’t, or if they voted to overturn it. I just don’t know, and I don’t care. That’s largely irrelevant.
The firestorm over the incident, though, is something of interest. It appears that the House voted against the song, because one of the members (no clue what his name is) showed up at the State House wearing a shirt emblazoned with the hammer and sickle. So, no state rock song title for them, a move I agree with. I’ve met a lot of Oklahomans having lived here for all but a year of my 34 years. I’ve not met one who thinks Communism is pretty cool. That the Lips’ fans don’t find anything wrong with the shirt says to me that they’re either historically illiterate, which is pretty scary, or that they’re not and they don’t find communism troubling, which is really scary.
One of the most annoying aspects of this whole affair is the sanctimonious sermon. by The Oklahoman’s editor, Ed Kelley. “The Flaming Lips are the latest Oklahomans to be demonized by the state House of Representatives.” Bah! He downplays the significance of the T-shirt by noting that “the old communist party…went out of business with the old Soviet Union nearly two decades ago.” I’m sure the people of Cuba and China would find that enlightening, if only their communist oppressors would give them the internet access to hear Kelley’s remarks.
“Just imagine how riled up legislators would have gotten if a band member had worn a t-shirt from a government currently in power, say, that of Barack Obama’s,” he then opines. Ed, while that’s a nice straw man, it doesn’t follow at all. Sure, many of us in Oklahoma have some very strident policy differences with the president, there’s a big difference between a liberal Democrat and what Reagan so rightly dubbed “the Evil Empire” (though I’ll grant those differences seem to be narrowing these days). Last I checked, President Obama doesn’t have a nuclear arsenal aimed at America.
Kelley then takes pot shots at the effort to put the Ten Commandments on the State House lawn. Heaven forbid (pun intended) that the silent majority of Oklahoma might want to acknowledge what they (we? 🙂 see as our heritage. We dare not offend, Kelley declares, the “small but vibrant communities of Asians in Oklahoma.” Lost on Kelley, apparently, is that he bristles at celebrating one monument to a belief system, The Ten Commandments, because it might offend a group, but has no problem celebrating another, the hammer and sickle, even though it offends a different group.
Next on his hit list are those awful, narrow-minded people that might actually want to enforce immigration laws, making illegal to hire illegal immigrants. Sure, Mr. Kelley, they may be hard-working, but they’re here illegally. The last time I looked things up, when you do something illegal, you’re a criminal. It’s really pretty simple.
Not safe from this non sequitur-laden diatribe are the efforts to make English the official language of the state. “Never mind that Oklahoma literally means ‘Land of the Red Man’ and home to dozens of Indians, many of whom have their own languages.” The English-only efforts are an attempt to combat run-away multiculturalism which has allowed an influx of immigrants to move into an area (and not just Oklahoma) and refuse to assimilate or learn the language. Instead, we’re supposed to cater to their every need, up to and including printing everything in English and Spanish, for example. It’s seen, and rightly so, I think, as an unreasonable burden upon the State and its people which drives up the cost of governing. “Supporting” only one language cuts costs, among other things.
In the end, what we learned from the Flaming Lips episode is that some Oklahomans like communists, and Ed Kelley can’t seem to construct a coherent argument.
From an email:
I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.
I took out my wallet, got out ten dollars and asked, ‘If I give you this money, will you buy chocolate with it instead of dinner?’
‘No, I had to stop eating chocolate years ago’, the homeless woman told me.
‘Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?’ I asked.
‘No, I don’t waste time shopping,’ the homeless woman said.. ‘I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.’
‘Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?’ I asked.
‘Are you NUTS!’ replied the homeless woman. I haven’t had my hair done in 20 years!’
‘Well, I said, ‘I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you out for dinner with my husband and me tonight.’
The homeless Woman was shocked. ‘Won’t your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.’
I said, ‘That’s okay. It’s important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments, and chocolate.’