What's High in the Middle and Round on Both Ends?

Waterfall by Old Man's Cave at Hocking Hills in Ohio

We just got back from a visit to Ohio. Why Ohio? It's lame, right? It sure is, but my wife and I were looking up bad ass waterfalls and came across Hocking Hills State Park on Google and decided to go. It was worth it.

On Sunday we began our 450-mile trek on Godforsaken Interstate 80. As it was Sunday there wasn't the bottleneck of stopped traffic near the Illinois/Indiana border that makes me want to murder every driver in sight. We made it to Interstate 65 rather quickly, but even though we were making good time my wife had to stop for a restroom break because drinking two liters of water every morning no matter what is required. However, the stop paid off and my wife found $180 cash near a dumpster at the rest area. I imagine the money was going to be used to buy some crystal methamphetamine and shit went south. Someone was probably stabbed. We later used that cash for pizza, ice cream and souvenirs, so it all worked out.

When we arrived at the campsite to meet our friend, it had just rained so everything was wet yuck, but our spirits were high because the rest of the week was going to be dry...

And then it rained all day Monday. Bright side was that the waterfalls were flowing and the number of visitors to the park was down.

Whispering Cave

After hiking into the early afternoon, we retired back to our campsite and tried for hours to get a fire started during a downpour, while our dog was doing his best ASPCA performance because his sofa was at home.

Can you hear Sarah McLachlan singing In the Arms of an Angel?

I'm still struggling with sleep. Because of the hard ground and small tent quarters, my leg cramped up frequently which made sleeping even more difficult. When my leg/foot gets all scorpioned up, I've found the quickest way to relax the muscles is to stand up and press down on my knee. Standing upright in our tiny tent sucks. Also, the pitter-patter of rain on the outside of the tent kept me awake. Oh, and more marauding raccoons visited our camp that night. I flashed my headlamp at a group of four of them only 15 feet from the tent door to the cooler they were robbing and they didn't flinch. But when I hissed they scattered for a moment which allowed my wife to move the cooler under the picnic table.

We woke to sunny skies and went for another hike early to Rock House. Rock House is the only true cave at the park and there is graffiti from the 1800s on the sandstone walls. I didn't believe it could be that old at first, but there are actual serifs on the letters of the vandals' names that are carved into the walls of the cave. Who would actually use serifs nowadays?

[O']Doyle. Ruling since at least the 1800s.

Cliff near Rock House

After Rock House we went back to camp to break it down because for the remainder of our stay we had a cabin. To fill that time between checking out and in, we went to Lake Logan. I decided to swim with my kid. I still had a lot of difficulty walking barefoot in the parking lot and through the sand on the beach while trying to avoid goose shit with every step.

While swimming, I heard a nearby group of tweeners discuss the possibility of a shark in the lake and I dismissed that... but then I thought about the infamous Chance the Snapper that was caught in a lagoon in Humboldt Park in Chicago a little over a week ago and I decided to get out of the water. With my luck, I felt that was a wise decision.

Camping in a tent vs. a cabin is like comparing hell to heaven. I think my days of tent camping are numbered. I mean, air conditioning, furniture, appliances, satellite television, running water (even though it was well water that had that pungent sulfur smell, it was light years better than the human zoo smell of the vault toilets at the campsite), and it even had a goddamn hot tub. Shitfire!

The next day we crammed in every last point of interest before heading home the following day. At Ash Cave I met a fellow LEGO geek enthusiast as she was photographing minifigs in the sand next to a creek. Then we saw a group of people gawking over two snapping turtles at Cedar Falls. I was hoping that someone would fall into the water trying to get a selfie with the turtles in the background, so I stood there focused on the spectacle for a little bit. I was going to photograph the unlucky soul being devoured by the turtles. One man in the group took to me because I mumbled something incoherent, even to myself, in my reddest-sounding voice and he started spouting off about cracking them there turtles and putting them right into a skillet. Mmmmmm. He sounded like Leatherhead from TMNT, a humanoid mutant alligator with a cajun accent, of course. I guarantee it.

For lunch we stopped at Grandma Faye's Grocery. During the visit my dog saw the UPS man and in the process of going berserk, flipped my wife out of her chair and onto the ground. How does that guy keep finding my dog on vacation?

Hiking down into the gorge at Cantwell Cliffs

Our last stop on Wednesday was Cantwell Cliffs and it's there that I realized I had been pushing myself probably a little too hard. I tripped on my foot drop foot four times and went down once, but it was still worth it to do that last hike. Hocking Hills really is a gorge-ous park. Wink, wink.

And it rained on the drive back to the cabin, even though it wasn't forecasted, again.

All together, according to my all-knowing personal computing device, we hiked 10.5 miles and climbed 84 flights of stairs.

The next morning before rolling out for home, I took our dog on a walk around the property outside the cabin. By that time our dog was worn out. He rarely eats or drinks water while on vacation. In fact, he contracted giardia during our last camping trip. That was fun. Anyhow, while walking I thought my dog was caught up in his harness because he started stumbling, but he was actually having a seizure. I remember holding him and being scared he was going to die right there in my arms. I started tearing up, worrying, but grateful that I was there with him, and then after a few moments he was back. Fist pump! Fuck you again, Death! After that we drove home safely avoiding Death once again by an hour, but that's a whole other story and I'd have to explain another amazing set of coincidences and I've already been telling this story for far too long.

You Don't Know Me

POP, POP, POP!

I think today was the hottest day of the year so it was prime time for the dog sprinkler and Super Soaker knock-off water guns in the yard. It was required my kid play outside by upper management, aka the Boss, so she invited a friend over. Her friend was delayed so I stopped packing boxes to fill that void until she arrived. After three hours of packing LEGO I had an intervention with myself. I have too much LEGO and I need to chill. It reminded me of Skyler showing Walter White the amount of money he had amassed in that storage locker and how they couldn't spend it in 10 lifetimes. I'll never be Heisenberg, but The Man Upstairs is in the bag.

Outside, my kid and I started out following the rules of spraying each other only below the shoulders, but with no adult supervision, things escalated quickly and goggles would've been helpful. I got the worst of it. My kid is much faster than me now and I can't get away since my mobility is limited, but that's what I get for breaking the rules first. Her game is waiting for me to run out of water and then it's all Blitzkrieg. Relentless and unforgiving. At least my aim is much better than hers, for now.

Oh, and my Johnsonville sausage shirt finally came in the mail today. Remember mail-aways? It felt like that waiting for it to get here. We had to purchase like 20 or 25 bucks of Johnsonville sausages and the shirt was free, but it felt like it took forever for it to arrive. But when it did today, about six weeks later, BAM! More sweet USA gear for our next camping trip!

Appointment in the City

The squiggly lines in the above x-ray of my spine (center, top) and pelvis (middle) are the leads that wrap around my dorsal root ganglion (the nerve roots that exit my spine). The screws on the right side are only a small portion of what's in my pelvis.

I did stuff, today. Big time. Since my wife didn't work pretty much all of last week, I told her that I was going to go to see my doctor by myself in the city this morning so she could attempt to get caught up... and I did it. Progress!

I hit the road early. I had a positive affirmation discussion with myself before I started, too, so I was ready when I was being tailgated within three miles of home. Our cars nearly traded paint while we were doing 70 in a 55. The driver didn't notice my car because her eyes were glued to her phone she was holding at eye level. For the love of God, get the fuck off your goddamn phone when you drive, assholes! The whole reason I'm going through this mess is because of a distracted driver. I tapped the brakes and she eventually backed off. Yosemite Sam knows. When I had my pep talk earlier I told myself, 'no middle fingers today, Rob. Swear to it!' I stayed true to myself. I also made that promise because people get shot on expressways in the city now and I flip the bird like it's an involuntary action, such as breathing. I've gotten better about it when our kid is in the car and I hold it just low enough that she can't see it from the backseat. Back in my hospital days my wife knew I was still me when I wouldn't stop flipping off the nurses. I had a one of those tubes jammed down my esophagus so using my hands was my only clear form of communication and I was damn clear about how I felt, often.

Stop-and-go traffic wasn't all that bad for after a holiday weekend and I made it to the city in a little over an hour. I even found parking without having to use my Bear spray on any other driver. I'm going to use that spray one day. As Bart Scott would say, "Can't wait!"

The waiting room at the doctors' office could be the setting of a Kurt Vonnegut novel. I saw the best rat tail you've seen since 1991. Cellular phones weren't muted and I kept hearing Candy Crush sound effects. Juicy. Every patient that entered the room was out of breath, groaning, like they just finished a 5K. That gets rough, especially when someone has tonsilloliths. There were four patients waiting to see the doctor, including me. Two had walkers and one a cane. I have nothing to assist me anymore, but I did use both of those and a wheelchair to learn how to walk again. The next patient to arrive was actually wheeled in on a stretcher. Now you see, this is an office in a medical building, not the hospital. Cane Woman to my right and I both said at the same time, "you see something new everyday." I called "jinx," and she owes me a Coke, now.

When my name was called, Cane Woman commented that I sprang up fast and appeared much too eager to leave the waiting room. Indeed, she was correct. I had my blood pressure checked first as usual. I still don't know what those figures mean, so I texted my wife to understand my results. She told me that I had elevated blood pressure. I blamed the waiting room. Then my doctor arrived. My doctor is a bro and he looks like Sean Astin. I've grown up watching Astin on the screen. From Goonies to Stranger Things. To me, he's the hero of The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Frodo couldn't have destroyed the ring without Sam carrying his weak ass to Mordor (similar to R2-D2's relationship with Luke). I trust this doctor even more than most of my other doctors only because he looks like Astin. 

First thing my doctor asks is how is the pain? I tell him I'm doing fine and he tells me, sarcastically, that I need to work on containing my emotions. I tell him that this is me excited and he just rolls his eyes and asks what I've been up to which leads me to my questions that I actually wrote down on my iPhone this time instead of forgetting them. I forget my questions because I'm starstruck every time I see him, because HE LOOKS JUST LIKE SEAN ASTIN! OMG! IT'S YOU!

1. I'm moving soon. Can I lift boxes/furniture? 

- That's great news. 20 lbs. should be your maximum. No more than 35 lbs. It's the repetition that may disrupt the placement of the leads.

2. But wait, I remember when you removed my temporary leads and I gasped because I couldn't believe how long they were. Why are the leads so long then?  

- They're long so they can move a little if they need to, but you don't want to bend or twist too much because they can become undone and may even break.

3. Can I see a chiropractor? My neck is jacked.

- No, let me see. I'm trained to do that, not chiropractors. Here do this.

OUCH.

4. Should I continue with my physical therapy?

- Let's see the range in your ankle. Your flexion looks to be about zero. Keep on doing therapy if you feel it's helping.

5. How much is replacing the batteries in my stimulator going to cost in the future?

- You won't need that for say five years and the technology will change so much that it's hard to say what they'll come up with next and the cost will fluctuate. Why?

Well, I feel like a drain on the system. I don't want to be that guy. I want to work. I want to contribute to my family and society and, right now, I feel like I'm doing nothing. I hate it, in fact.

- (Another eye roll) Without Medicare it will easily be at over 10k out-of-pocket, but probably much more. You have a severe chronic medical condition that's not going away, hence chronic. This is why we have Medicare. You'd still be in constant pain without the stimulator, right? Do you want the stimulator to fail or not? Do you want to go back to how it was before the stimulator?

No, yeah, what?..

- Stop. You are allowed this. This is why the system was created.

Fine [jerk].

6. How do I go about getting a medical card? With the change in Illinois law beginning January 1st and card holders can grow up to five plants...

- I can't get that for you, but you said you're moving. I suggest finding a new primary doctor out there that's not in our network. It'll take about three months to get the card approved, so I'd start looking now.

7. When do I see you again?

- Only when you need to. No follow-ups are needed.

FIST PUMP!

I'm home now. I made the trip by myself and nothing worst-case scenario happened, which is what I expect. I need some new literature on how to get started with this next hobby. I already grow tomatoes from seed so it can't be too difficult, right? Maybe I'll see if High Times is still a thing. I know Mad magazine just folded so I'm concerned that High Times may have as well. Is there a seed company like Burpee Seeds for marijuana? I need a catalog.

Here's another look at my hardware from my right side. Gnarly, right? Magnets stick to my hip where the screw heads are located. It's a fun parlor trick.

Happy Birthday to you, USA!

Currently, we live in a small rural town in Illinois and today is a big deal for the residents and my family. It also marks the first Fourth of July that my wife was a part of the parade as a small business owner. She has been part of the parade in the past as a Girl Scout leader, but this was new territory and she needed help. Unfortunately for her, I was that help.

Hoping to drum up some new business, my wife made fans using paper, staples and popsicle sticks with some clever puns to hand out to the crowd. Perfect for a hot day. Now, I've been a watcher and a photographer of parades, but never an integral part of the parade and I had to step up, literally. I was going to pull the decorated wagon holding her fans while she scrambled through the crowd handing them out.

Before we hit the streets my wife left early with the wagon for roll call while I tried my best to keep our nine-year-old on target and out the door to view the parade with her friends. In the process of finding our kid a bucket to collect that oh so sweet candy, I dropped a cooler on my bad foot. With only moments until parade kick-off, I sucked it up, covered my kid in sunscreen and got her out the door, and I walked over to the high school.

When I arrived at the school I learned my wife was awarded first place for best business float and that the man holding a Betsy Ross flag would be following the wagon that I was pulling. I didn't think much about it, really, until someone yelled, "now that's a flag I can get behind. Goddamn right!" All of my focus on the task at hand and my foot pain, including some self induced pain from a late night spent with friends, was gone and now I was listening to the crowd react to the flag and trying to get a shot of said flag while I dragged the wagon just feet ahead of it. I suspect that there weren't many fans of Colin Kaepernick in the crowd. Why does everything have to keep getting weirder and more uncomfortable lately? 

I'm all about distractions from the pain and I started looking for more examples of Independence Day going off the rails and I began feeling sick to my stomach... I've since moved onto pondering if I should stay home with our elderly dog who is seconds away from stroking out due to the neighbors' fireworks or leave him alone in the basement with our daughter's white noise machine while wearing his ThunderShirt as we go watch the local firework show. America, fuck yeah!

What is a FIB?

A FIB is a term of endearment that Wisconsinites call their neighbors to the south. Dis-Abled Guy is a fucking Illinois bastard. Michiganders call us FIPs, or fucking Illinois people. I think they are just jealous that we understand that the left lane is for passing.

We just got back from camping at one of our favorite parks in Wisconsin, Devil's Lake. During the last ice age, glaciers helped carve out the terrain and left behind a 360-acre lake surrounded by 500' tall bluffs. It's a great place for hiking that we discovered about five years ago and have visited nearly every year since. 

Tarp City was erected upon arrival on Sunday and it helped provide cover from the storms that poured rain down on us during our short 3-day excursion. After our campsite was complete and dinner concluded that first night, our car decided to lock its doors with the keys still inside. Instead of having a meltdown and using a rock to get inside, I decided to drink ice-cold beverages and stay cool. That night, marauding raccoons in search of anything edible woke one of the dogs of our party and sleep was cut short for the rest of the night. This is nothing new for me since I suffer from insomnia. With nothing better to do, I called a locksmith at 6:30 a.m. and we had the car opened up by 7:40, just mere moments before my kid gnawed off her own hand for sustenance because she was so hungry and her cereal was locked inside the car.

Next, we hiked two miles up the East Bluff to the Devil's Doorway under threatening skies. Our kid then raced back down the bluff in record time to get to the beach (I've never ever seen her so determined doing anything, except when playing video games). By noon the sun burned off the clouds and it turned into a picture-perfect afternoon. We spent about five hours on the beach. My wife even rented a paddle board. I found that I couldn't keep my balance on the paddle board due to the nerve damage in my right foot which makes me feel like I'm always standing on a pillow. I had to sit down while I paddled about the lake which helped me keep a low profile. I covertly paddled out to a makeshift inflatable Waterworld shanty town in the middle of the lake to investigate. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary as I circled the rafts and floating crocodile that were tied together with clothesline, other than large clouds of smoke that filled the air every few minutes which reminded me of Steamboat Willie, as well as lots of giggling coming from the occupants.

Not only did I not use my AFO (ankle-foot orthosis), which I haven't used in over a year, but this trip marked the first time that I didn't bring my cane or use a stick to keep my footing while hiking rough terrain since my accident. That's a big plus. Nor did I bring my iPod remote control for the DRG stimulator to increase or decrease the electricity flowing through me. I also didn't take any of the hydrocodone that I brought, although I should've used them to pay the locksmith. One problem I had was at the beach trying to walk barefoot, which is still painful, but that's O.K. because I was able to wear my aqua socks. They go great with all my tourist-looking U.S.A. gear I like to wear when we leave home. I bet I get confused as a MAGA doofus. I may be a bastard, but I'm not that guy. I have quite a bit of tightness in my calf and ankle now, but it was all worth it for another successful adventure for this FIB.