Category: Health & Well Being

I Have Superpowers…

No, I’m not faster than a speeding bullet. I can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound and I’m not mightier than a locomotive. I’m not referring to the imaginary superpower, although that would be really fuckin’ cool. I always thought the power of flight would be the best power, since I could eat to work every morning without paying for gas or sitting on public transit. But I digress… No, the super power I’m referring to, is one that we all have and we can all take advantage of. The big problem is that in general, without limiting ourselves by certain exceptions, no one tends to recognize or take advantage of those super powers. I’m talking about your body’s own inherent abilities.

The human body is a genuinely amazing thing. For the most part, the human body is able to heal and/or regenerate almost all the tissues within itself, with the obvious exception of teeth. Bear in mind, there’s a huge difference between “healing” and “regenerating.” For example, the liver is one of the only organs that can positively regrow, even if a significant portion of it has been removed. Bones will also knit themselves back together, often stronger than their previous state, when broken. The majority of the tissues in one’s body will heal themselves back together their original state, or what’s known as “cell replacement.” Depending on how they heal, this can be pretty extreme. For example, I’ve read that the lining of our stomachs and intestines are almost constantly replaced by fresh cells; a necessary system of the body to counteract the corrosive nature of our digestive acids, or the uterine lining in a woman’s body, which regenerates completely from one month to another.

This plays a major role in how we live. For the most part, the healthier we live, the better the chances we have of proper healing and recovery. For example, despite being one of the organs that can regenerate, the liver will fail and die off if one consumes and abuses of alcohol. Certain nutrient or mineral deficiencies will prevent bones from knitting and can even make them brittle. It’s important to note that nutritional, lifestyle habits and even how we sleep can affect our body’s overall ability to heal and regenerate itself. Age also plays an important factor, of course, with one’s body’s ability to heal properly decreases with time and age. But in terms of lifestyle and fitness, I can provide a first-hand example…

In November of 2023, I received a Type-1 Diabetic’s worst news from my endocrinologist. My blood work showed that my kidneys were struggling and I was in the early stages of kidney failure. That would be scary for anybody but having lived for 43 years with a condition that I knew would eventually knock one of my organs out of play (besides the pancreas, of course). It’s a reality I was always aware of but never really paid any mind, since I tend to work out pretty well and monitor my blood sugars pretty closely. I remember walking out of my doctor’s office that day with a fairly strong sense that I had been handed a death sentence. Recognizing that I had a family and very much left to do with my life, I did what I always do when death foolishly knocks at my door; I fought back. I started by asking what could be done to heal the issue. This is an important aspect to proper health. People these days are obsessed with “treating” symptoms but never really look at the overlying cause that’s brought them to their current state.

My doctor suggested that losing a bit of weight would help. My initial thought was “fuck you, too.” Although always on the husky side, I’ve never been obese or even what one would call fat. Although I snack and eat like the best of the ‘em, I’ve never been a horrific eater and always monitor my carb intake carefully. This is where he introduced me to Ozempic and suggested I start taking it. I was pretty leery of it, due to the negative spin the media had put out. But I reluctantly started on it. In tandem with the drug, I also drastically altered my diet. No, I didn’t jump on to some stupid fad or gimmicky diet and I didn’t download an app. I simply took common sense steps that doctors and nutritionists have been barking for decades. I started avoiding battered foods in favor of fresh, lean proteins. I got in the habit of pan-searing fresh fish instead of getting battered, frozen fish. Steak and chicken were prepared fresh, as well. Healthy grains in small doses, fruits and even soup, which I’ve always considered a nemesis of mine. I had soup forced on me a lot during my childhood and as an adult, I always stood that a liquid couldn’t be a meal. I’ve allowed myself to provide me wrong.

Sleep habits were altered. I go to bed effectively the same time every night, with the only exceptions being if I’m traveling and it can’t be helped. I started taking steps to ensure proper, uninterrupted sleep, which has been challenging in and of itself, due to PTSD. But once I got to a certain point, I can now get at least six to seven hours of sleep WITHOUT any of the initial aids I was taking to get that sleep. Most mornings, I wake up prior to my alarm. Working out has been a consistent challenge in recent years. Fatigue and lack of motivation can be some of the biggest obstacles to proper health. I changed up my routine where, instead of trying to work out for a couple of hours, several times a week, I work out for thirty minutes, every day. There are days where I miss, of course. But losing one 30-minute workout is much easier to recover from, than going a full week without working out at all.

In conjunction with the Ozempic, this led to about 30 pounds of weight loss, which is almost double what most semaglutide users can expect. Instead of sitting back and letting the medication treat something, I jumped on and helped it do its job. Given this weight loss, a few magical things started to happen. My blood sugars became increasingly easy to control. My blood pressure dropped and stayed down, meaning I had less headaches. My sleep quality increased significantly but last and not least was the biggest aspect of all; my kidneys had recovered and I was no longer in early stages of failure. The sense of relief and satisfaction at having taken my health in had the way I did was phenomenal. Now, I’m not suggesting that someone who IS in kidney failure can recover their organs. I’m not friggin’ Wolverine, after all. I was lucky enough to have caught this at a stage where the damage could be reversed.

The lesson here is that most people have vices that are unhealthy and do damage that isn’t seen in the here and now. It isn’t until a red light pops up that we decide to stop and take a good, hard look at our habits. Some people never get the opportunity. But making some of these small changes to one’s habits can be life-prolonging, if not life-saving. So, we all have a super power. We have the ability within ourselves to heal our bodies and maintain our health. We simply need to embrace that power and work towards making life healthier and easier for ourselves. Food for thought. ☯️

When Should One Start Teaching?

This is actually a topic I found recently on a social media page for karate, where the subject of teaching others and at what level of black belt can one begin to teach. Recognizing that every style has its own methods and differences, I don’t necessarily want to generalize too badly but I will share the high level version of what my school has always done and what Sensei always encouraged. For the most part, my Sensei’s Sensei used to say that martial arts is like climbing a ladder; over time, you make your way up several rungs to get higher. Once you do, you’ll take notice of someone who is a number of rungs below you. The idea is that you should reach down and help that student climb the next rungs to reach the same level as you’re on, if not exceed it. Then, as that student progresses to the higher rungs, they would be doing the same for you. It’s a bit of a romanticized notion and it certainly requires each practitioner to be a bit selfless and willing to help others as opposed to focusing solely on themselves.

But the specific question posed in the social media post I saw, was how many degrees to one’s black belt were required to teach. This is a bit of a loaded question, since originally, belt systems weren’t used in traditional Okinawa karate. The ones with knowledge basically just, well… taught. So the concept of requiring a black belt in order to teach others is a somewhat westernized detail that doesn’t necessarily track. One aspect I WOULD agree with, is the requirement to get one’s Sensei’s approval or consent before starting to teach someone else what you’ve learned. Your Sensei is the one best suited to determine what level you’re at, and whether you’ve become proficient enough in certain areas to effectively pass on the material. After all, if you perform a technique poorly and you teach it to someone else, they’ll learn it poorly and practice it poorly. This does your style a disservice and will lead to the dilution and watering down of your style, whatever that may be. But at what point can one genuinely begin to teach others?

This question takes me all the way back to good ol’ 1989. Yes, you read that right; 1989. 36 fucking years ago. Man, I’m getting old… Anyhoo, I remember struggling through much of my first week in karate. Such is always the way with new students. You don’t know shit, haven’t learned anything yet and are basically just following along, trying to mirror what you see everyone else doing. Usually while doing it poorly or improperly. After the first week, Sensei grabbed me before class and told me I needed to learn some of the basics one-on-one. I had foolishly assumed at the time that I would be receiving this instruction from Sensei. But given that there are several students and only one Sensei, I quickly learned that he would often lean on other students to provide initial coaching and guidance. I still remember the young girl who taught me the opening of my first kata… She was a few years younger than I was. One of three sisters, all of whom were in karate, her name was Teri-Lynn.

Patient, helpful and willing to put me through my paces, it’s interesting to wonder where I would be or what direction my martial arts training may have taken, if not for those initial interactions where I was properly guided by someone who knew the material and could easily and readily pass it on. It played an integral part in how I viewed the dojo, its students and the teaching of Uechi Ryu. Unlike some other schools I visited and tried, where I was basically left endlessly to my own devices to learn and glom on to what I could. This makes it extremely difficult to learn properly and can lead to frustration, discouragement and ultimately, quitting the school. But my point is that Terri-Lynn was a yellow belt when she taught me all the basic knowledge I required to start my karate journey.

So, the takeaway lesson here, is that rank is irrelevant when it comes to teaching the art. Whether your belt is white, black or any of the colors in between, teaching what you know is man important part to learning within karate. And not just for the one you’re imparting the knowledge on; it’s important for you, as the teacher, as well. One cannot effectively learn without teaching. And one cannot effectively teach without learning. This is the important balance that one must acknowledge when seeking to learn and/or teach within traditional martial arts. Karate is meant to be taught. And while one cannot effectively teach train by oneself, karate is not a solitary art. I’m reminded of a line from Star Wars, of all things. In Episode I, where they’re at a Jedi funeral and discussing the return of the Sith, Yoda says, “Always two, there are. No more, no less…” There’s a whole bunch of reference behind this but the same can be said of karate. One who knows, and one who learns. Those roles will shift and go back and forth through the years. Learning and teaching go hand in hand. That’s why, if trying out a new dojo and you feel abandoned and left to your own devices, it may not be the style for you. Food for thought… ☯️

The Minimalist’s Travels…

A couple of weeks ago, I travelled to the East Coast to go deal with some family matters for my folks. It was a tumultuous week of emotional ups and downs, for a variety of reasons but you can read all about that in a series of posts entitled “Here We Go Again.” Since I was traveling by myself for the week, I made my way back to my home Province with nothing but a military-style rucksack on my back and survived for seven days. After the series of posts, I had some folks reach out and ask me exactly how I managed to survive a full week with nothing but minimal clothing and a small backpack. Well, I can confirm that it’s equal parts efficient packing and planning once I was on the ground. And with this, hopefully short, post, I’m going to walk you through it. Let’s see what I can manage…

First and foremost, I travelled with 5.11’s Rush 24, a 37L military-style rucksack. Black in color and boasting several compartments and pockets, I typically use it for my day-to-day transit to and from work, to carry my laptop, iPad and personal effects during the week. In this instance, I chose to use it to travel. For anyone interested, you can find it on Cabella’s website here. While a bit costly, it’s made of durable material that can not only hold everything I need but also withstands travel and being tossed around. Hence the military-style aspect. Sitting about 20 inches high and roughly 8 to 10 inches deep. It allowed me to pack the following… (Bear in mind that this was for seven days and six nights’ of travel)

  • Three pairs of underwear and socks;
  • Three dri-fit shirts;
  • A hoodie
  • Three sets of pump supplies (reservoirs, infusion sets and sensors);
  • Minimal toiletries (toothbrush, nasal spray and fast-acting carbs);
  • My personal cell phone and work phone;
  • My iPad;
  • My noise-cancelling headphones; and
  • All required cords for devices.

That’s it! That’s all I travelled with, for an entire week. I forgot to include a bottle of insulin in that list but that goes without saying. I also wore a thin, Under Armour jacket over my shirt, since it was only 15 degrees when I left Saskatchewan. At first glance, most people would assume that this is crazy or that I’m making it up. After all, I’m sure there are several items that you’ve noticed are missing from this list, that the average person would definitely require in order to be away from home for several days. But bear with me, young padawan… I’m going to teach you the ways of minimalist travel…

On the morning of my departure, I took a hot shower, shaved and brushed my teeth. Nothing out of the ordinary that the average person should be doing on a daily basis, anyway. But since I was freshly clothed, deodorant applied and fully packed, I had very little in terms of hygiene to worry about. At least until I arrived at my destination. I grabbed my rucksack and got dropped off at the airport by my family, about to depart and be without them for the week. With only the rucksack to bring along, I didn’t need to check any baggage and I didn’t have to contend with the current trend where too many carry on’s are brought on planes, prompting flight crews to force me to check my bags. I could stuff the rucksack under my seat and still access my tablet and headphones as I saw fit. It also meant that I didn’t have to wait for baggage at the carousel, saving me lots of time at the arrival end of things.

Once at my hotel, I could slip quietly into bed and sleep off my travel, ready to deal with the issues of the coming week. Now, you may be thinking, “He brought a tooth brush but no toothpaste.” You’re right. What one needs to realize is that traveling to New Brunswick can be a significantly costly endeavor, especially with a family to support. Saving money wherever possible is key. Since this wasn’t a vacation, per se, and far from a pleasure trip, I had to ensure I was thrifty in what I spent on. First and foremost, one should always take advantage of the free amenities that most hotels will offer. If you attend the front counter and advise them of something you’ve forgotten or need, they’ll often have sample or travel size options that you can get as a courtesy. This includes toothpaste. On my first morning in New Brunswick, I got a travel tube of toothpaste from the front counter. Pair that with a hot shower using the soap and shampoo available in the room, and I was off to the races.

My first stop to ensure a smooth, and worry-free week, was the travel section of my local, big box retail store. Travel options will usually run you very little money and can actually last far longer than one would be inclined to think. Once in the travel section, I grabbed an antiperspirant, hair gel, supplementary toothpaste, a disposable razor and shaving foam, as well as a travel shampoo and a single bar of old school Dove soap (since hotel soap is almost non-existent). Then, I was off to a pharmacy location, where I was able to find a single-use box of Tide laundry detergent, to use with in the hotel’s guest laundromat. Based solely on those purchases, which barely ran me over $20, I was set from the toiletries and hygiene standpoint. Check!

Next, comes food… There’s no denying that meal consumption can be one of the most costly expenses when traveling. Ever try to get a basic eggs, bacon, toast breakfast at an airport? I did… The cheapest I found was about $35. Fuck you, airport! For that amount, I can buy a dozen eggs, a pound of bacon and a loaf of bread for several meals and still not reach $35! But even eating out at restaurants and fast food for the week can start to drain the ol’ bank account pretty damned quick. Especially since even fast food value menus are now almost as costly as full, sit-down meals at a full restaurant, finding way sot trim costs can be difficult. Since I’m by myself and have no one else to please or squalling kids with fussy tastes to contend with, I could live on the bare minimum for the week without concern.

First, we start with breakfast. I’m a bit old school with respect to the fact that when I think vacation breakfast, I want hot options that include meat. Maybe that’s just me as a dude, but I was some eggs. I want some bacon or some sausage. And since those items are carb-free, it has the potential to make breakfast my most filling meal of the day. My hotel, however, does not have these meat options. In the past, I would have turned my nose up and grabbed a sausage McMuffin instead. This time around, saving money was key and I swallowed (pun intended) my pride. My breakfasts for the week consisted of muffins, yogurt and the occasional hard-boiled eggs, since they did have those on occasion. For lunches, I found a six-pack of high-protein, high-calories meal replacement shakes at the pharmacy. Tossed those in the mini fridge and downed one at midday as my lunch. Then, schedule pending, I would allow myself some sort of proper, sit-down meals somewhere for supper. So, six breakfasts and six lunches ran me about $13, since breakfasts were free and the money was only for the meal replacement shakes. Not too shabby, since one meal at a restaurant would have no doubt cost more than that.

After a few days, I did a load of laundry at the hotel and refreshed the limited clothing I brought with me. I did so again on the Thursday before traveling back to Moncton for my early flight the next morning. All of these little steps allowed me to travel light, travel efficiently and save hundreds in what would have otherwise been a much more expensive trip. I didn’t suffer or want for anything while I did all of this, but I was able to keep my wallet from cracking down the middle. Bear in mind, nine of this minimalist approach would have been possible if I had been traveling with my family. A spouse and kids means more baggage, more meals and there’s no conceivable way in hell MY sons would have consented to drinking a meal replacement shakes every day. The costs would have been far more significant. But it allowed me to travel out to New Brunswick, see to my parents’ affairs and visit some old friends on a reasonably tight budget. I used to think I could never do what I’ve seen others do, traveling with next to nothing, staying in hostels, etc… But some of it is very doable and possible. It also makes coming home to a warm bed, hot meals and a grateful family all the more worthwhile. Food for thought… ☯️

Oh, All The Supplements…

I tend to monitor a number of health trends and websites in my daily grind. When you’ve been diagnosed with a life-altering condition at a very young age, you tend to keep an eye on things that could potentially provide some benefit or ease symptoms of said condition. For example, there’s a lot of hype online about a woman in China who was apparently taken completely off insulin therapy for her Type-1 Diabetes, using stem cell therapy. While I haven’t read all the articles and am not completely versed on the ins and outs of this apparent “success,” I do know that based on other research I’ve done, anything that comes from transplanting one thing into another, is the vast plethora of anti-rejection meds that one tends to be dependent on, usually for the remainder of their lives. That may be better than the alternative of being on insulin therapy for the rest of one’s life. But I’m just saying, the jury’s still out…

But what I want to touch on today, is a chemical called L-Carnitine. I’ve seen tons of type on social media, fitness sites and medical websites about this stuff, boasting how it helps you to turn body fat into immediate fuel, causing weight loss in those who take it. Given that I’m always skeptical about trends and gimmicks meant to help someone lose weight without putting the work in, I had to investigate. I know, I know, this is coming from someone who injects Ozempic into his body on a weekly basis. However, semaglutides are already naturally produced by the body. The injections simply add to that, making kidney health, blood pressure and lower blood sugars and weight a possibility. You still need to control your diet, exercise regularly and take good care of yourself to prevent other issues. Imagine my surprise when I found that L-Carnitine is just a little bit, if not a lot, the same…

So, what is L-Carnitine? According to an article I found on WebMD, “L-carnitine is a chemical that is made in the human brain, liver, and kidneys. It helps the body turn fat into energy.” So, sounds just a little bit like what they indicate in all the hype promos I’ve seen. And “made in” the human brain, etc? Sounds naturally-produced, a bit like the semaglutides in Ozempic. But L-Carnitine is actual very important for brain and heart function, as well as muscle movement. It’s actually necessary for the proper physical function of the body. Okay, so far, so good. L-Carnitine is used to support people who lack in this chemical naturally, and to help treat certain conditions of the heart and kidneys. But the article doesn’t go a great deal into that. While it boasts a number of different uses for treatment of serious medical conditions, it’s the weight loss that I’ll focus on, here.

The idea here, is that if L-Carnitine turns body fat into fuel, one should naturally lose weight while taking it, since it will melt your fat stores in order to produce fuel, which will result in the slimming of one’s gut and overall fat stores. One thing the article doesn’t touch on, is how one needs to alter and/or maintain diet or exercise. Intuitively, I’m inclined to assume that if you don’t exercise and limit the crap you eat, you’ll have limited success. It’s also important to note that like any other supplement or medication, you should take anything without first consulting your physician or medical practitioner. Especially since you never know what interactions you may have with the existing medications you’re on. And I have to admit that the “infomercials” tend to focus on all the obvious deflection tactics, such as showing someone whose already trim and buff, downing L-Carnitine, suggesting he got that way by doing so.

As I’ve come to learn over the decades, there are no free lunches. Pun fully intended, since you take this stuff orally. Apparently. Some of the medical-grade stuff is apparently taken by IV. But another article I found on HealthLine reflected much of the same as the WebMD article, with one notable exception. The article reads, “L-carnitine helps move more fatty acids into your cells to be burned for energy, so it’s sometimes used as a weight loss supplement. A 2020 review of 37 studies found that L-carnitine supplementation significantly reduced body weight, body mass index (BMI), and fat mass. However, it had no effect on belly fat or body fat percentage.” So for me, it’s a pretty weak prospect since belly fat is what I’m most concerned about. L-Carnitine can apparently also HELP with exercise, even if exercise is needed to help burn fat.

For example, I used to get my supplements through a supplier (I can’t remember which one) that sent me a small sample bottle of L-Carnitine. It was branded as a supplement that would help boost my workouts. I saw absolutely no measurable difference, although it was just a small sample bottle with about two doses. So, the jury’s still out. I don’t know if this stuff is on the level and legit, or not. You’d have to judge for yourself. And make sure you consult a doctor before you do. All I know, is that nothing in this life is without effort. No matter the supplement you take, the miracle results it boasts or whether you believe it’ll work or not, nothing will substitute good ol’ fashioned blood, sweat and tears. Even WITH a supplement that shows ANY result, proper diet and exercise are a must and necessary to assist with weight loss and getting rid of that pain in gut belly pouch that everyone hates. Food for thought… ☯️

Zen And The Art Of Home Ownership…

Owning a home is a catch-22, in my opinion. For myself, I grew up moving from one rental apartment to the next. While my parents owned their own house until roughly 1982, they realized the cost and upkeep associated with home ownership wasn’t sustainable, given that they had sick children that required medical attention that could only be obtained outside the province. Since travel and accommodation costs weren’t always covered, it was a financial no-brainer to live in an apartment where, repair and upkeep costs were generally the responsibility of the landlord. This may be why I never had much of an issue in adapting to the Mountie lifestyle, since I had pretty much been moving every few years my entire life. But I digress…

While renting an apartment may release one from certain financial and upkeep burdens, there’s definitely something to be said for owning one’s own home. Your own space, answering to no one else and knowing that you can make whatever changes or upgrades as you see fit. It’s liberating after a fashion, although the costs of such things can quickly make you reconsider. Even during my adult life and well into joining the RCMP, I always rented. This just made sense to me, since I knew I would be moving every few years. It wasn’t until I met my wife and we had our first child that owning our home became important.

Our home was purchased at a reasonable price through an estate sale. Having had only one previous owner, the home had, shall we call them, “unique” features but was overall in fantastic shape, was well-kept and would provide a reasonable home for the years to come. We saw no issues that would carry over into our next posting, which would come up in 3 to five years anyway. Then, the COVID-19 pandemic hit and I got sent home. I then quickly realized that my future no longer rested with the RCMP but with a static job that would see us remain in Regina. Okay, fair enough. And since life rarely cares about one’s plans, of course all hell would need to break loose.

First, our foundation buckled. During a significantly heavy rain fall, the foundation wall shift and cracked open, allowing significant amounts of rain water to seep into our basement. This resulted in needing to demolish, brace and renovate the entire basement. While that wasn’t a terrible thing, since it modernize the basement (it was fake wooden clapboard and orange carpet), the costs and disruption to the overall household was significant. Once it was all said and done, we were happy. But there’s no denying that the cost was a bit of a nut-punch to the soul.

Over the past few years, we’ve enjoyed the benefits of a private back yard, garage, and the benefits of having no one above or below us to cause noise. But in recent years, sewer back ups caused by little hands using too much toilet paper, etc. caused continued issues within the basement. As I’m sure you can imagine, a backed up sewer into one’s home not only smells quite unpleasant but poses certain health issues due to what comes back up. We had the main drainage system through a hydrovac treatment in 2023, which carries a 3-year warranty, provided we don’t flush diapers, wipes, paper towels, corpses… You know, the usual. So far, we’ve had to have them pop in to clear our line three times, with each visit confirming that eventually we’d need to consider next steps to repair the very aged, 60-year old pipes that served as the main line.

On this occasion, which took place on last Sunday, the last day for me to relax after a week off before heading back to work, the basement received a nice outpouring of of stagnant, offensive material from a lovely back up. Great. My wife worked to get the plumbers back while I worked to disinfect and clean the basement floors, book shelves and bathroom implements that got affected. This time, we were advised that several cracks and defects in the main drainage line would require immediate attention, lest the pipe collapse, which would pose a much greater issue. I started to imagine all the worst case scenarios that involved jack-hammering my basement floors, digging up my entire front yard and the costs, not only for the repairs but the clean up and subsequent renovation that would ensue.

Luckily, we were given an option where they appear to be able to repair the pipe by coating it’s interior with an epoxy resin of some sort that essentially repairs and the existing pipe and is rated to last 30 years. No drilling, no digging up the yard and no destroying the basement. This was good news. This repair will run to the tune of almost $5,000. Fuck. Damn home ownership! We reluctantly scheduled the repair, which is supposed ot take place next Monday.

Owning a home that you can call your own can be a wonderful thing. The comfort and privacy you get from a private residence is significant over the prospect of living in a shared building with an unknown umber of other renters, any one of which may be noisy, violent, problematic or obstructive in one’s daily life. But the costs of home ownership can be significant, and not everyone will be able to pay the cost. For us, it will cause a significant financial hiccup. Not as big a one as if we did nothing, of course. And that’s the bittersweet pill; there’s a cost either way. The question simply becomes ensuring it’s the lower cost that one deals with. Hopefully in the hopes of preventing further costs down the road. ☯️

Here We Go Again, Part 6…

Yesterday was actually a reasonably good day. As mentioned yesterday, I woke up, did some quick laundry, grabbed a brief lunch and then traveled to Bathurst to visit Sensei’s son, Guillaume. Instead of simply jumping on Highway 11 and taking the 1-hour rip to his place, I opted instead to use secondary Highway 134, or what we used to call the “Old Highway.” It added about half an hour to the transit time but the view was spectacular. The entire route is coastal, with open views of the Restigouche Bay opening up into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Some beautiful houses and old churches, schools and properties, it was almost a meditative drive of sorts, lending some peace to the stress I’ve felt all week. I reached Bathurst shortly after the lunch hour and made a couple of stops, used the restroom and grabbed a drink, then made my way to Middle River.

I have to admit, Guillaume has a pretty sweet setup. He built his own compound, including a main house, a smaller dormitory for his daughter, which is separate from the house, a large, industrial garage that houses tractors and industrial equipment used to maintain the property, and apartment for his two sons above the garage. He has a private road, bee hives, vegetable crops and absolutely no cell phone signal. He has his own maintained WiFi, but cell phones don’t work on his property. The entirety of the property is beautiful and impressive. In hindsight, I kind of wish I had photographed it, or even taken a video to post on my YouTube channel. I spent a couple of hours in good conversation and pleasant company. Just me, Guillaume and his three large but friendly dogs.

Once I left Bathurst, I drove back to Campbellton by way of the main highway. I made it back in under an hour. Now, I faced a choice… With nothing to do with my evening, I could either go catch a 7 pm movie at the local theatre or, given that I had only gotten about five or six hours’ sleep the night before, I could go grab a quick burger to eat in the room and crash early. I opted for the latter. I sat and munched away on my custom McChicken with cheese (don’t judge) and binge watched some Flash on Netflix until my eyes grew heavy. Then, I unceremoniously dumped myself into the bed and fell into a deep, air conditioned oblivion. Although not in any hurry and with an alarm set for 9 am, I awoke on my own around 6 am. Even when I’m on vacation, I can’t seem to sleep in. Such is life.

Since I was up, I started the caffeination process, including but not limited to grabbing a hot shower and throwing on some clothes. I packed up the room, where I had been laying my head since my late arrival Saturday evening, and made my way down to the front desk. I dropped off my key cards and jumped into my rental vehicle. Now, I”m enjoying a sausage & egg McMuffin and a water, the only meal I’ll likely consume until late tonight (thanks, Ozempic) before getting on the road for the long, 4-hour trek to Moncton, where I will spend the night before hopping the first of two flights that will bring me home tomorrow. I expect my evening will be pretty peaceful. Some gaming to work through my daily puzzles and crosswords and maybe a bit of streaming. I can’t wait to get home. It will be good to be back with my wife and sons. ☯️

Here We Go Again, Part 5…

Okay, so if I’m being real for a moment, these posts all week have been pretty negative and depressing. I get, no need to say it… It’s a bit hard not to be depressing when one is talking about the decline of one’s parents and all the unfortunate realities that come with it. So, considering I accomplished all the parent-related matters I came out here to do (to an extent), I thought it might be nice if I focused on some of the positive aspects. For one thing, I got to SEE my parents. If there’s one thing that been hard over the years, it’s been living clear on the other side of the country, away from them. I also got to spend time with Sensei, reconnect with my Uncle Danny, who has been amazing with helping with mom and dad, and even got the opportunity to grab dinner and shoot some pool with some old friends. I was rusty as hell, but hey! I never go out anymore so this was particular. And today, I actually get to travel down to Bathurst and visit Sensei’s son, whom I basically grew up with as a brother.

Among a few of the smaller, less important hiccups I’ve dealt with, is the lack of certain items. One of the reasons I was able to travel so quickly and efficiently (said tongue in cheek, considering all the delays outside my control) is because when I’m alone, I have the benefit of traveling extremely light and without excess baggage. This is not so easy to accomplish when you know you’ll be at your destination for several days. So, how do I do it? Well, to start with, I have a black, military rucksack with good compartment division that allows me to pack efficiently in such a way where I can fund anything on the fly without issue. Next, I make a point of packing ONLY what’s absolutely necessary without a bunch of extra shit that takes up space. I have a pair of sneakers on my feet. Boom! No need to drag additional footwear. I wasn’t planning on going dancing, after all. Three pairs of socks, three pairs of underwear and four shirts. I wore a zip-up hoodie when I left Regina and brought a super light, Under Armor windbreaker for rain or lighter weather.

The important thing and I always found it a bit dumb, but rolling up your clothing instead of folding it actually saves a huge amount of space and makes it possible to fit more into something smaller. Pair this with a small bathroom “pouch” and you’re off to the races. I call it a “pouch” as opposed to a toiletry bag because it’s about half the size and thickness, to better accommodate the limited space I have. The only thing included in there are infusion sets and reservoirs for my insulin pump and my toothbrush. Some of my smaller compartments had a pack of gum and some Skittles, in the event my blood drops. There’s nothing worse than being at 35,000 feet on a flight that serves no snacks while having a low. Entertainment-wise, I permitted myself to bring my iPad, which houses not only my streaming services and my blogging platform, it also contains my Kobo e-reader and some games that I can play to pass the down time. That’s the beauty of modern technology; everything is jammed into one thing, Star Trek-esk pad.

Now, you may be looking at all of this and thinking that there are a lot of things missing. And you would be right. What about toothpaste? What about deodorant? Some of the basics aren’t really there. Well, when I travel alone, I also try to save as much money as possible. Especially since this isn’t exactly a vacation or pleasure trip. Bear in mind that I left Regina freshly showered, teeth brushed and deodorant applied, like a good, clean little boy should. Like a brand new car just off the lot, I boarded my plane with a new car smell. Once I landed in New Brunswick and started driving north with my rental, I had been in airports, airplanes and sitting idle all day but getting warm, dealing with stress and running around and I was clammy. So, once I reached Miramichi, I stopped at the local Walmart and hit up their travel section. The travel section of any retail location is an overlooked gem, even for when you’re at home. It carries smaller, cheaper and more compact versions of every day hygiene items that one could need.

From this Walmart, I grabbed a reusable bag, since I always seem to be caught buying up some energy drinks with my bare hands. Since they always seem to be on special to buy several at a reduced price, I usually end up fumbling with my hotel room’s scan cards while juggling several cans. But with my reusable bag, I was able to grab deodorant, hair gel, a single bar of Dove soap, shampoo, shaving foam and a disposable razor. A few energy drinks and some sugar-free Gatorade for the room, and I was off to the races. Excluding the energy drinks which I would have bought at home anyway, I spent less than $20 on my toiletries for the trip. Considering a checked bag for Air Canada is $80, it represents a significant savings and allowed to travel much lighter than I otherwise would have. Given the extreme heat, I’ve pretty much had to surrender my clothing to the laundry basket every night. This means I had to grab some laundry soap. Luckily, my hotel has a coin operated laundromat. I had initially planned on doing only one load of laundry TODAY, as I will be traveling back to Moncton tomorrow. But given the high temperatures, I’ve been sweating through my few shirts in record time. As a result, I will be doing my SECOND load of laundry this morning.

So, in summation, I took the cheapest flight, which left me at a bit of a disadvantage as I couldn’t amend, cancel or alter my travel arrangements once paid, the cheapest hotel in the area, which although I had issues with it in May, they were extremely accommodating this time around, and traveled light with limited items to make transit and packing easier. All around, this is probably one of the cheapest trips I’ve ever had to New Brunswick in years, minus the time Air Canada made a mistake booked my round trip for a little over $500. My flight sorts are usually almost four times that amount. No such luck this time but it was roughly $1,000 for the tickets and I usually pay about twice that. Once I’ve hung out with Sensei’s son this afternoon, I’ll likely make it back in time to go watch the Naked Gun remake, starring Liam Neeson. It lend a bit of comedy and laughs to an otherwise depressing trip.

Tomorrow, I travel down to Moncton, where I will be spending my last night in New Brunswick. This is being done since my flights departs sometime around 6 am, which means I would have to leave Campbellton right around the time I’d be going to bed, considering the detours for the wild fires. ten years ago, I likely would have been able to manage that without issue. This time around, i believe I’m reaching an age where driving all night in the dark is no longer something i feel i’m capable of. So instead, I’m going to park myself at a hotel five minutes from the airport so I can simply wake up, jump into my pants and be out the door. Quick, easy and convenient. The best part is this early flight will see me land back home prior to lunchtime, since Saskatchewan’s time zone is three hours behind New Brunswick’s. It will be good to get home. I think I’ve done about as much damage here as can be done. It’s grime to go. ☯️

Here We Go Again, Part 3…

Thomas Wolfe once wrote “You Can’t Go Home Again.” A title that seems pretty apt to my situation. In November of 2023, I faced the inevitability that most children face, where my mother lost decisional capacity for herself and had to be placed in a care home. It was a pinnacle turning point in my life as it meant that I would have to pack up her apartment and do away with the majority of the belongings that she had accumulated in the course of her life. While most children would simply bring most heirlooms and belonging to their own home, living clear across the country made this a bit of a difficult prospect for me. While I did pack and ship some choice items, the majority of things had to be sold, donated or given away. It felt like the surrendering of one’s life, and caused me to take pause and reflect on how the later years of my own life would come to pass. I chronicled this trip in a short series of posts titled “Becoming the Patriarch.” If you scroll through my posts, you find them. The point is, when I came home last May to tend to my father, who was intubated and comatose with no expectation of coming out of the hospital, it was my first time coming home without, well… a home! It was a the first time in my life that I didn’t have a “mom and dad’s” to stay at. No pillow to lay my head where I knew my mother was in the next room. The change in my reality that this caused weighed heavily on my soul during that trip. That reality is all the more palpable this time around.

Yesterday, my day started simply, with a visit to the continental breakfast nook of the hotel. Swallowing my pride and ignoring my usual desire for meat, I enjoyed a small bowl of cereal and a yogurt, which provided what I needed for the morning. I grabbed a shower and slipped on some fresh, untraveled clothing and I was off to the races. A couple of errands later, I had stocked my room fridge with energy drinks and some meal replacement shakes that would make for my lunches throughout the week. For a simple 4-pack of shakes that would make four lunches, I paid as much as I would for one full meal. While meal replacement shakes can’t replace your food indefinitely, it’ll certainly save me some money for the week. My morning went by in a flash and I made my way down the coast to Dalhousie, my childhood home. I’ve traveled to many places in the world but they all pale in comparison to the pristine beauty of the Restigouche Bay set against the backdrop of the Appalachian mountains. The view and the scenery are exquisite; a fact I never recognized or appreciated during my childhood. It’s unfortunate that children always only see what’s immediate and can’t draw their focus outward. Perhaps if I had recognized the beauty in front of me, I would have never left. But I wistfully digress…

My father is a tired man. At the end of his rope, I feel that he has very little fight left in him. Essentially paralyzed from the neck down, he’s incapable of moving, save for his neck and head, and some mild movement of his fingers, mercifully allowing him to switch the channels on his television. Otherwise, he lays at the mercy of the nursing home staff. Nursing homes get a bad rap in general, and for good reason. Overworked and understaffed, they rarely have the ability to care for their residents to the level of quality that one truly deserves at the end of their lives. I walked into my father’s room with the thought that I would be facing an angry, redheaded juggernaut who was pissed off at being alive. Instead, I saw a frail, aging man with no strength left in him. He was sleeping soundly and snoring noisily. I sat with him for a few moments, but for once in my life, the words not said and the silence were too much for me. I stepped out. When I walked into to see my mother, she was awake and sitting in her chair with her arms crossed. She had a look on her face that didn’t express serenity but appeared to hold no immediate concern. As I reached her filed of vision, she frowned at me slightly. As I said “Hi, mom,” she responded in kind but didn’t acknowledge the “mom” part. When I indicated that I was her son, her only response was “Oh, okay.” No recognition or familiarity lit up her eyes. I commented that it had been a while and reached in for a hug. Then, I experienced another first that no child should ever have to; she flinched and recoiled from my reach.

She didn’t yell out, object or indicate any issue but the mild action was enough to send ripples of grief through me that echoed down to my very soul. My mother had no recognition of me. The shouldn’t have surprised me, since her siblings had all visited last week and she knew none of them. But it cemented the fact that in a way, my parents were very much gone. When one loses a parent, there’s a grieving process in place. The loved one is no longer with them. They’re just gone forever and one realized they’ll never see them again in this life. There’s a finality. A sense of closure amongst the grief, if you will. But for my parents, there is no such closure. Instead, they linger. Living fleetingly on the border between life and death. My father, trapped in a prison of his own flesh without any finality, despite apparently being lucid and of full mind (I can’t confirm because I haven’t spoken to him yet), and my mother, who’s there but not “there,” know what I mean? There is no finality or sense of grief0stricken closure. They aren’t;t gone; they simply aren’t fully there, either. The reality was more than my solitary soul could handle. I made my way back out to the car and wept silently by myself, recognizing that the chance of having any meaningful conversations with my parents was gone. There would be no making them proud for my accomplishments, no bragging about their grandchildren with them, no sharing of my life with theirs. Because they had reached the end. It was now just a matter of time.

Once my eyes cleared, I made my way out to my Uncle Danny, who has been helping with the overall care of my parents in my absence. On his last day of vacation, he was enjoying his backyard pool. Considering it was 35 degrees yesterday afternoon, I could hardly blame him. We had some good conversation and I discussed my plans for the week until another guest of his showed up; a colleague from his work who had come to enjoy the pool as well. I thanked him for all his help and excused myself. I made my way back to Dalhousie where I did some light banking and sat at the top of the hill, overlooking the bay. Enjoying some afternoon caffeine, I watched blissfully as the waters of the open bay ebb and flowed. Several boats, both sail and motorized, coast through its waters, enjoying the hot air and beautiful scenery. I must ave spent nearly an hour just sitting there. My hometown always brings wistful memories. Some good, some bad, but all imprinted in my mind as clear as if they happened yesterday. All imprinted as an integral part of my DNA and who I am. In seeing my mother and recognizing that my grandmother had faced the same difficulty, I asked myself if I was fated to eventually forget all these memories as well. That perhaps someday, the imprinted memories that made me who I am disappeared, much as they had for my mother. Once this happened, would I still be the same person? Who would I become? I’ve often asked myself who I am throughout my life. Never quite to this degree.‘

My evening capped off with a visit to Sensei’s home. Always a pleasure to speak with, we enjoyed some good conversation, that included some questions and corrections on my karate forms. It was good to see him. He asked about my family, both here and in Saskatchewan, and lended some sage advice on many aspects of life; something I’ve come to expect and admire about him. It gave the day a positive spin in an otherwise tumultuous cyclone of bullshit I faced while visiting my parents. Life is balance, right? For any negativity, there must be some positive. I made my way back to the hotel and ended my evening by seeing my wife and children over video chat. Short of being home with them, I couldn’t have ended the evening off on a better note. I drifted off to a dreamless sleep. My time here will see me accomplish a great deal, even if I don’t get the answers I came looking for. As with any other great book, eventually you need to finish out the chapter in order to turn the page and keep going. This may be the situation I find myself in now. While I was born and raised here, the chapter of my life that involves Northern New Brunswick may be coming to an end. While my thoughts will always return here, my purpose for being here may soon no longer be. That’s a chapter I”ll need to close in order for me to move on to the next. Such is life. ☯️

Here We Go Again, Part 1…

Yup, buckle up, folks… It’s going to be one of THOSE posts! For those of you who read my posts regularly, you may recall that a few months ago, I had to take an unplanned trip back to New Brunswick in order to see to my father who, without any clear explanation of what happened, had to be intubated and was in a coma. The only real explanation I got at the time was that he had gone into the hospital with pneumonia and his lung function tanked, leading to the intubation and transfer to the ICU. Even once I reached the hospital, there were no real answers and I didn’t get to speak with my father as he was unconscious the entire time. Visiting my mother was painful as she’s currently in the full throws of dementia (we think) and didn’t recognize me as her son. All in all, it was a painful trip, and the very first trip where I went home without a home to go to, It was an odd sensation, being back in my home town without a residence owned by my parents to go stay in.

Over the past couple of months, things have not improved. My father faced a number of issues with his ongoing health declination and eventually, he made his way back to the nursing home. I only became aware of this by virtue of my uncle, who was visiting my mother and noted that he was there. Otherwise, neither the hospitals nor the nursing home contacted me to update me that he had been returned. However, despite his return to the nursing home, he is now paralyzed from the neck down and has no mobility in his body at all. This has provided further barriers as I can longer contact him or vice versa. Not that he made much use of the phone prior to that, mind you. So, like the committed son that I am, I’m currently sitting in the airport, patiently waiting for my flight to board. On my way back to my childhood home, I intend to get some answers to how my father has ended up in his current state. And whose ass I need to fuckin’ kick in order to get them…

Obviously, I’m pretty cranky right now. I don’t enjoy traveling at the best of times. But waking up before the roosters do, in order to catch a flight pisses me off even further. Although my plan was to wake up at 4 am, I was awake and tossing at about 2:30, unable to rest knowing how my day would go. Some dishes and final packing details later, my wife and kids valiantly pulled themselves out of bed to drive me to the airport. Some hesitant goodbyes later, and I was printing off my boarding passes and making my way to the security gate. Interestingly, I was selected for random screening and had my bag searched. It was comical but good, as I was able to bypass the waiting line and jump straight to the head of the line. I requested my usual pat down as opposed to going through the gates, to ensure my pump and insulin wouldn’t be put through scanning equipment that could potentially damage the pump or render my insulin inert.

I’ve always admired the screening officers at the Regina Airport. Having travelled all over the world and dealt with various screening agencies, I’ve always been appreciative of how professional and thorough they are. Always apologetic during their search, I’ve grown used to the routine and am completely okay and in agreement with its necessity. But it’s nice nonetheless. Although a hot cup of Tim Horton’s coffee would be nice while I wait, the line of 20+ people discouraged me pretty quickly; especially since everyone and their fuckin’ dog seem to believe they need to have breakfast AT the airport instead of eating at home before getting here. The line would move so quickly if everyone simply ordered their coffee and moved on. reminds me of the good old days when a drive-thru lane was used for single, quick items for faster service, as opposed to the trend that seems to track these days where people will order for a family of five in the drive-thru. Idiots. But again, it’s early, I’m cranky and I definitely digress…

My uncle recently updated me that my mother’s entire family was in Dalhousie visiting, and they all went to see my mother. She recognized no one. I anticipate I’ll have no better luck in having her recognize me either, My father, who is an angry man at the best of times (and I wonder where I get it) will no doubt not be in the “visiting mood,” and I don’t know how productive a visits this will be. I’m just hoping I can at least get some information on what may have caused his paralysis and why he’s now relegated to his bed, probably for whatever years he has left. My hope will be to at least connect with him. It won’t be all bad. I have some visits planned with some old friends and my uncle while I’m down. While not a social trip, it will at least bring a silver lining to the stage of life I’m in. As is my habit, I’ll be posting about my trip throughout; and hopefully include some photos of my beautiful home Province in the process. Stay tuned. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to stop being so fuckin’ stubborn and go get a coffee. ☯️

“Whatevs, I Barely Broke A Sweat…”

Ahh, the mantra of someone who is in for a very nasty surprise… It kills me how often I’ve walked into a dojo and stood next to someone who gave off an odor that’s usually a mix of wet clothes mixed with sweaty dog. This is usually because some students are under a false impression that if they didn’t sweat, they don’t need to launder their gi, or even take a shower. I’ll confess to having gone an afternoon without hitting the showers after working out. But this is usually while wearing normal workout clothes and they always hit the laundry right after, before I lather up.

What people don’t realize, is that even if you aren’t drenched in absolute sweat after a workout (which you should be), whatever garments you wear will still be infused with your lovely skin oils and your scent. Even worse is if you’re one of those shameful people who break just a mild sweat and go without a shower and don the same gi again the next day. That just makes it worse. One of the more challenging times I’ve had to deal with this was in 2001 when I trained in Okinawa. Considering temperatures were in the high 40’s (Celsius). We would train for several hours in the morning, lose the gi, have lunch and sightsee/hit the beach, have a light dinner, then train again for several hours that evening. Given that we were staying in a hotel, laundering the gi after every session became problematic.

Generally speaking, and much the same as with wiping down equipment at the gym, there are all sorts of risks associated with repeating sweaty clothing or using unwashed gear. The problem comes by virtue of the fact that your sweat will create a damp environment that certain bacteria’s and fungi can thrive in, leading to a number of skin-related issues that, while I can’t speak for everyone, I certainly don’t want to deal with. And neither should you. realistically, re-using dirty workout clothes can lead to unwanted acne, in areas it certainly isn’t wanted. Especially since karate gis aren’t exactly breathable, rubbing the sweaty gi against your skin can irritate it, and potentially clog your pores, which will cause an added host of issues.

While we’re on the subject of pores, sweat and bacteria can clog your pores, leading to painful, ingrown hairs, rashes and inflammation. Not so great if you’re getting that somewhere sensitive like your ballsack, guys. Further, that bacteria and fungus can make its way into your pores, leading to a fun little condition called “folliculitis,” which will inflame hair follicles and cause irritation or discomfort. And worst yet, you can get yeast infections. That’s right, gentlemen! We’re as prone to yeast infections as our female counterparts are. Your groin, armpits, or anywhere else where your sweat can collect in a warm, contained environment, can lead to yeast infractions. Fun, right? Still think you should skip laundering on that given night so you can chillax with a post-workout beer? Think again.

Last, but certainly not least, is that you’ll smell like crap. For the most part, people don’t really stink horribly at the time of sweating. It’s once that sweat has dried on your flesh that it becomes most noticeable. That being said, if you or your gi were unclean to begin with, once you add dampness back into the mix, it can exacerbate the unpleasant odors and you may notice that no one if keen to get paired up with you. While one may not recognize one’s own funk, I promisse that every one else around you can smell it. And most people will be too polite to bring it to your attention.

The solution to this is quite simple. Recognize how sweaty you’re getting during your workouts and launder your workout attire after each and every workout. If you aren’t going straight home to do laundry, you may want to consider spreading your garments to air out as opposed to jamming them into a gym bag where that lovely bacteria will propagate and thrive. Last but not least, consider the garments you’re wearing and think about using breathable fabrics, like moisture-wicking or dri-fit garments. Not such a possibility in karate but a good standard overall.

Keeping your skin healthy is an easy and straightforward steps for proper health and personal hygiene. And not least of which, will ensure your smell doesn’t offend everyone in the dojo. Malodorous auras are NOT a self-defence weapon, no matter how bad it may make everyone run in the opposite direction. Food for thought…☯️