Category: Motivation

Give Yourself A Break…

Type-1 Diabetes is a beast of a condition to manage. I don’t think that should really be a secret to anyone who has it but to the undiagnosed general public, many seem to think that all it involves is taking the occasional insulin shot, testing your blood sugar and NOT eating sugar. In truth, managing Type-1 Diabetes is a life-long journey (although some would call it a battle) that requires constant monitoring and being on one’s guard. For myself, I was diagnosed at the tender age of 4 years old. Some would throw out a few token “aww’s” at that but realistically, I was too young to really know any different. It was likely easier for me than it would have been, had I gotten diagnosed into my teens the way some friends of mine have. I grew up learning how to manage Diabetes and never had the opportunity to develop “bad habits” that might have made control more difficult in my later years.

But for the folks who are not Diabetic and may not have a family member who is, there is a lot that goes on in the day-to-day steps to control my Diabetes and ensure I don’t lose my eyesight, have an organ fail or have limbs amputated due to poor control. And those are just some of the more knowable potential outcomes. The lesser known and visible side effects are things like ketoacidosis. I had a friend who hosted a guest in her home who was Type-1 Diabetic. He spent the weekend there and the following morning, she and her husband were curious at the fact that he was sleeping in so late. They knocked at the door and inquired when he would be getting up. She remembered him responding “Do I have to,” to which she indicated no and let him go back to sleep. An hour or two later, they were concerned enough that they decided they had to wake him. He had unfortunately locked the door and they had to break their way into the room. He had gone into a Diabetic coma and died. This is the darker side of the condition that people don’t recognize when they’re busy making jokes about “Diabeetus” and thinking it’s because just eat too much sugar or candy. But I digress…

Here are some of the things that I need to stay on constant guard about, when managing my Type-1 Diabetes on a day-to-day basis. This is the stuff that most people don’t realize and that aren’t visible to anyone who isn’t immediately in my household. This list is not exhaustive but is definitely part of my daily routine, which is likely why I’m always exhausted and need several cups of coffee. But here we go:

  • Extra and non-Diabetic Medications: This one is a particular sore point for me. Besides insulin injections, I have daily medications I need to take. In early 2010, a regularly scheduled doctor’s visit resulted in being prescribed statins, which are apparently a required staple of grown adults with Type-1 Diabetes to help control cholesterol levels, and Ramipril, which is used to control overall blood pressure and heart health. On top of that, although I came off of this one a few months ago, is a medication called Ezetemibe, which also used for cholesterol control. Although, since starting to use Ozempic in late 2023, I no longer need the Ezetemibe since my cholesterol is essentially a non-concern. Oh yeah, I take weekly Ozempic injections to help blood pressure and kidney health.
  • Frequent Blood Sugar Testing: I’m pretty lucky to be on a modern insulin pump. Prior to 2014, I was testing my blood sugars up to ten times a day on average. The problem with that is the inconvenience of having to blood let one of your fingertips when you’re feeling off, no matter where you are or what you’re doing. Flying blind and assuming your blood sugar levels can be dangerous and detrimental to your health. It’s even more inconvenient if you’re on a flight, in a restaurant or in a work meeting where you need to excuse yourself. Even worse was during the dating phase where you’d need to test your blood or worse, if things were heating up and getting physical and you had to ensure your blood sugars were okay to “proceed.” Thankfully, that part of my life is over.
  • Constantly Carrying a Man-Purse: What I’ve learned over time and especially in the past year or so, is that I can never take anything for granted. Stepping out of the house to run an errand while thinking “I’ll only be fifteen minutes,” can turn into a medical emergency pretty fuckin’ quick.! Just at the start of this summer, my blood sugars were normal and I had to run to a local mall to pick up one item. The mall is a literal five-minute drive away from the house. It should have been quick, easy and without concern. Once at the mall, my pump started loudly blaring at me. My blood had dropped to 3.4 mmol/L. What should have been a quick, ten or fifteen minute trip turned into forty minutes of sitting on a bench, sipping on a Coke and waiting for my blood sugars to rise enough for me to safely (and legally) drive home. These days, I always carry a small shoulder sling that contains a glucometre, a small first aid kit, wipes and hand sanitizer and at least one (although usually several) bags of non-perishable fast-acting carbs. Which brings me to my next point…
  • Keeping family Members from Being Concerned: They say it takes a village and in most circumstances, they would be right. One of my mother’s greatest concerns over the years would be that I would find myself alone as an adult and have to deal with the pitfalls of Diabetes alone. This can be inherently dangerous, since slipping into a serious Diabetic episode when I have no one to help can be deadly. But when I look at that scenario with the trip to the mall, one of the first things I did was text my wife. Not only to let her know I would be a while longer than expected but in the event I found myself in greater medical distress, I had to be prepared to have her assist me in some way, or at least know to go to the hospital to find me if something happened. It can be somewhat exhausting for family, especially considering it isn’t a condition they have themselves. That’s why it’s incredibly important NOT to get testy when they ask if you’ve tested your blood, or eaten enough, or remembered to take your pill. If you have family members that are invested enough to give a shit about your health, you need to soak that shit up and be grateful. Like I said, it takes a village.
  • Near Constant Adapting To Changing Conditions: Probably the toughest and most annoying aspect outside of taking insulin or testing your blood sugars, is having to adapt to plans depending on what your body is doing. Sure, everyone does this. Ever had to cancel plans with friends because you had the runs and couldn’t leave your house? Picture that, but on a daily basis. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to cancel coffee or hangouts with friends because I was ill due to blood sugars or my compromised immune system had me dealing with yet another common illnesses that most people would shrug off. Don’t even get me started on wanting to get a workout in but my low blood sugar fucks my night. Or, speaking of fucking up one’s night, imagine wanting to get physical with your significant other, but your blood sugars are too high or too low to allow you to perform as required. Not fun.
  • Traveling Becomes a Burden: Honestly, this has become WORSE since starting on an insulin pump. Travel becomes tedious, especially if I should be leaving the province or country. I have to calculate and plan out my insulin intake, use of supplies and alternatives in the event I run out of something at my destination. Will I be able to find what I need? Will I be covered for it, outside of my home Province or while I suddenly find myself paying a significant amount of money out-of-pocket? If a given pharmacy in the area doesn’t carry what I need, can I do without or will I be sacrificing a portion of my trip traveling elsewhere to find what I need? Just two years ago, my continuous glucose monitor expired and the one I had packed for the week failed on installation. My local pharmacies not only had no idea what I was talking about when I tried to purchase more, but I had no means of ordering any. I had to run the pump without CGM for the remainder of my trip.

While some of these can be chalked up to basic inconvenience, some of them can lead to significant issues or even become life-threatening. You know how you always read about these folks who get harassed for parking in a handicap space but don’t “look” disabled? Picture that, with everything but not limited to, everything I listed above. Managing and living with Type-1 Diabetes requires a daily grind where you can never let your foot off the gas. And people often wonder why I’m always exhausted and binging caffeine like it’s going out of style. Don’t eat sugar? Sure. Take daily insulin shots? Absolutely. But trust me when I say that while it could always be worse, Type-1 Diabetes, at least when it’s properly controlled, is a far cry from an easy walk in the park. Food for thought… ☯️

Autumn Falls

Most people have a preferred or favorite season throughout the year. For most people, it tends to be the spring, when everything starts melting and the weather gets milder. Birds are chirping and greenery starts to poke its head through whatever remnants of winter snow may remain. For others, it’s usually the summer, since this generally means vacations, hot weather and outdoor activities and/or time at the pool or beach. You EVEN get the occasional person who favors winter, citing the beauty and clam that a slow, snowy night can bring. Personally, winter is the season I dislike the most, given that it means shoveling and snow removal, traveling to work in the cold and increased utility costs for keeping the house warm. No, for me, the best season and the one I enjoy the most is autumn, colloquially known as the fall season.

During fall, one can not only start to enjoy some of the milder weather, similar to what spring brings, but one begins to cool off after the hotter temperatures thrown about from the summer months. I get to spend time outdoors and perform yard work and chores without turning my shirt transparent from the sweat. It’s still nice enough out to enjoy workouts on my punching bag or sitting in my garage with a nice cigar. Wildlife still wanders my residential property but changes within their behavior and color start to emerge. The same can be said for the wonderful splendor of nature as a whole.

The Appalachian view of the bay from my home town in New Brunswick

For decades, I lived in Northern New Brunswick, surrounded by sea water, an open bay and the rounded moutain tops of the Appalachian range. During my youth, I was blinded by time; surrounded by beauty but never truly seeing it, because I grew up around it. It wasn’t until I moved away and started my career in Saskatchewan that my mindset changed. Now, returning home is much like taking a breath of fresh air. For those who have read previous posts, specifically recent ones about the pitfalls of my recent trip out East, I’m referring to the environment and its beauty; not the difficulties of going how again. But it isn’t until recent years while visiting my home area that I’ve come to realize just how much beauty was sitting in front of me all along, with my very clear eyes blind to seeing it. I guess that can often be the way of things when one is younger. You never quite appreciate what you’ve got until it’s gone, right?

Sugarloaf Mountain, an extinct volcano in my hometown

If you look at the photo included with this post, you’ll see one of the best parts of the fall season; the changing colors of the leaves. Stretch across a mountainy splendor, one can experience every variety of red, orange, yellow and brown, occasionally sprinkle with a touch of remaining green. This is either from the pine tress or from the few stubborn holdouts that don’t seem to lose their remaining chlorophyll, the pigment that gives most leaves their color. The overall tableau allows one to drink in the full splendor of nature’s awesome beauty and the impressive cycle and process it goes through every year. I can easily imagine, sitting on a rocker on a front porch, looking out at the open ocean and changing colors of the leaves, all while sipping on a hot cup of herbal tea. Not all time needs to be occupied. Sometimes the perfect day is allowing time to slow to a standstill so that nature can be heard. Although I will confess, this is often easier said than done.

So as the autumn settles in for its very short visit before the frigid temperatures of winter settles in, be sure to take some quiet time. Watch the transformation. Watch the evolution of the season and enjoy the cool, crisp mornings offset by the warmer, balmy afternoons. This is truly the best season that offers just a little something for everybody, regardless of their preference. And if you’re unfortunate enough to miss it, take comfort in the knowledge that it’ll all come around again in a year. But for now, take advantage if you can. A peaceful moment can heal many wounds. Jus’ sayin’… ☯️

Sometimes, Nature Knows…

About three years ago, I had an interesting incident that took place on my property. My family and I live on a small residential lot in Regina, Saskatchewan. It’s a quiet neighborhood, free of any commercial or industrial districts with the exception of some schools. I guess those aren’t necessarily in either of those categories but my point is, people don’t generally come into our neighborhood unless they live there or are visiting someone. As a result, we have an abundance of wildlife, including but not limited to rabbits, large squirrels and plenty of domesticated cats who have full advantage of wandering the neighborhood unbothered (for the most part). For me, the concept of seeing large rabbits just chilling on my front lawn has always been a point of fascination, since it was something I rarely saw in New Brunswick. We have them; they simply aren’t quite as visible as they seem to be here.

The incident I’m referring to from three years ago, involved a mother rabbit and her two babies being attacked by a large bird on our front lawn. One baby was killed, the mother fled and one baby hid under the wheel of my recycling bin. It was wedged under there, stuck and frightened. I temporarily took it under my care until I turned it loose when I spotted a group of three adult rabbits wandering the front lawn. I named him Fluffernut, although I can’t even confirm that it was male. I got a lot of backlash and hate for my actions, which not only caught me by surprise but as a strong believer in putting good out into the world, I felt I had done something right, even if the nay-sayers felt that I hadn’t. You can read about this interaction here. And here’s a photo of the little guy, hours before I released him back into the wild.

Fluffernut

A short while later, I was visited by a slightly larger rabbit that had some of the same color patterns and approached my son and I while we were inside the garage. Considering a rabbit’s fur and shading will change over time and with the seasons, I had no way of truly knowing if this was the same rabbit I had helped. But given that it was following my son and I around and accepted some Timothy hay and seeds without seeming scared or skittish around us, suggested that it had some familiarity with us. Maybe I was just romanticizing the notion. Who know? My point is, I feel that sometimes natures knows. And if you put good out into the world, good will often find you. A day or two ago, the same type of occurrence happened. And part of me can’t bring myself to believe that EVERY rabbit in my neighborhood is capable of approaching me without fear or dashing off as soon as I move.

So on Tuesday night, I was sitting quietly in my garage, polishing my work shoes and puffing on a semi-decent cigar. Once I had a few coats of polish on the shoes and they were looking decent, I set everything aside and started doing something light gaming on my iPad. I have a batch of daily crosswords and puzzles that I like to do in order to keep the mind sharp. Suddenly, a very large, light-haired rabbit hopped into view at the mouth of the garage and sat for several minutes, quietly staring at me with its dark, beady eyes. I felt entranced, and didn’t dare move for fear of scaring it off. After a few minutes, it slowly and calmly hopped into my back yard. Nathan came out, presumably having seen the rabbit from his bedroom window. I asked him not to scare it and to slowly retreat back to the house. Several minutes later, it approached the garage again. It sat the open mouth of the garage, watched me for a time, nibbled on some of the weeds sprouting from the seam in the garage door and even took a few steps INTO the garage.

I didn’t dare move and I barely breathed but I once again found myself wondering, Is this Fluffernut??? Probably not, but I can’t help but feel that nature knows. Maybe it was. Maybe he remembers and occasionally visits. The nay-sayers would say no. The beauty part is, thinking it doesn’t make it so but believing it makes me smile, so it can’t be all bad, right? All I know is I would have been unwilling to accept letting that little ball of fluff die needlessly, that day. Nature or not, nurture sometimes needs a win. And I felt I delivered that, back in the summer of 2022. Food for thought… ☯️

Whatever Happened To The Good Ol’ Days…?

We’ve all been there. You say or do something during your youth that elicits a roll of the eyes or a look of disdain by one of your elders, followed by one of the dreaded sentences that make your youthful eyes glaze over and threaten to close. “In my day, we would have never…” or “Kids these days!” were some of the more prominent ones I heard in my youth. It’s a pretty common thing, to have your parents or grandparents compare how they would have done things in their youth as opposed to how you did it. Or point out the various things they WOULDN’T have dared to do or that were impolite or improper during their time. We always find these comments annoying when we’re young and if you’re anything like me, you likely swore up and down that you would never be that way when you had children. And then you have kids. And given that they’re of a newer generation, their habits, opinions and views on the world are inevitably different from your own. And so it should be.

The world is not what it was 30 years ago when I was a teenager. In my youth, there were no smart phones and mobile phones involved a large bagged device that had to be plugged into your car lighter. Even when we had curfews, my parents had no way of contacting me to tell me to get my ass home. I could hop on my bike and pedal until my legs gave out and my folks would never know just how far I’d gone or what I’d been up to (unless I got caught doing something). My generation didn’t spend hours on end with electronic devices in our hands or binge-watching hours worth of television. I say this with full awareness that I’m currently blogging through an electronic device. But the most prominent thing that you never did, at least when I was a kid, was turn your nose up at a birthday or Christmas present. In my youth, even if you wanted and/or expected a particular gift or thing, you smiled, said thank you and made the best of what you got; even if it wasn’t what you wanted. The only exception was if you were given socks, underwear or clothing. That is some bullshit, right there… What kid wants SOCKS for their birthday. Am I right??? But I digress…

All of this stems from the fact that I have now become the older generation who comments on today’s youth. What’s most disturbing is I never saw it coming. Once I had children, it was all down hill from there. The disdain for their behaviors and perspectives, comparison to the lack of respect or the dismissal of responsibilities… While I thought I would never be the kind of parent who would replicate these behaviors from the older generation, I’ve taken stock only to realize that I am fully immersed in “old man syndrome,” commenting about how I never would have dared to say such things to my father, in response to my youngest’s birthday, which was last weekend. I didn’t realize how deeply like my father I had become until the words came out of this little bastard’s mouth…

My son Alexander, sporting the youth size boxing gloves he received on his birthday.

On Sunday, we celebrated my little Alexander the Great’s sixth birthday. We had a fun weekend of doing all the things he wanted to do, which included lunch and play place time at McDonald’s (in and of itself no longer a cheap option for a family of four), followed by a couple of hours at the Science Centre (yes, the same Science Centre from the incident in yesterday’s post). I thought we did a pretty good job of accommodating his special day. My wife made him a homemade chocolate cake, which he got o help and decorate. We got him two gifts. The first was the set of youth boxing gloves seen in the photo above. Believe it or not, finding a small pair of gloves that would accommodate his hands was tougher than one would think. Before I had kids, I used to see 8 ounce boxing gloves all over the place. Think I can find them, now that I need them??? Of course not! But the gloves will be handy in helping him to train safely while doing karate workouts with daddy. This will save potential injury from using oversized gloves or even throwing bare-knuckled punches on the pads before his wrists strengthen and his technique gets smoother.

The second gift is a pretty cool one, if I do say so myself. He loves to make hideouts and forts using blankets and chair and whatever else he finds, while hanging out in the basement with me. I got him a polyester tent that has small tunnels that offshoot from the sides and bring him to two, smaller tents on either end. A couple of quick blankets over the top of the tents and he has a contained fort that he can drag blankets and his iPad inside, snack and his water bottle and chill out on his own, hidden away safely from “bad guys.” I thought these gifts were reasonably well thought out and I was looking forward to seeing him get excited and enjoy the gifts he’d gotten. We’ve never been a household for showering dozens of gifts on any of us, believing that this isn’t the inherent purpose of a given holiday. A simple gift or two is enough. But the disappointed and despondent look on his face as he asked the question, “Are there any more presents?” caused a variety of emotional responses in me.

Alex said knock you out!

At first, I was angry and disappointed at the selfishness coming from the child I was raising. In what world is it okay to have your parents spend time, money and effort in doing all of these things for your birthday, only to have you question why you didn’t get more? Where’s the respect? Where’s the appreciation? In my day, we would have smiled, nodded and been happy to make the most of the gifts we received instead of wondering where everything else is hiding. When asked why he wasn’t happy with what he’d gotten, he pointed out that he’d apparently listed a number of things he wanted for his birthday in recent months. Well, fuck… My wife and I exchanged a look with each other but neither of us could recall him naming the things that he did. Was this on us? I’m open-minded enough to believe it’s a possibility. Maybe I just didn’t do a good enough job of listening to what my child wanted. Maybe I’m being too harsh in my view of his reactions. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m right and he should be grateful for what he’s got…

Once I had a night to sleep on it (and after he’d set up his fort and realized he was having fun), I started thinking it may be more of the former than the latter. While a birthday isn’t intended to be a free-for-all for as much stuff as one can get, it might have been nice if I’d gotten him something that he actually WANTED. I think he might have enjoyed his birthday a little better if his immediate response to his gifts was disappointment, even if he’s enjoying them now that he’s using them. A big part of adulthood is working to recognizing that our children, while smaller and lacking some of the knowledge to know better, are still people with their own feelings, views and thoughts on things. While they may not always align with ours, they still have validity, in certain areas. It’s what allows us, as adults, to come full circle and realize that our parents may have been right with the comments they made in our youth. I just wonder if they ever reached the realization that it isn’t always about the previous generation and that as humans, adapting to the times that come is nearly as important as remembering where we came from. I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. He’ll likely forget all of this after the first few hook punches land next time we train. Food for thought… ☯️

When Customer Service Still Exists… (Above & Beyond)

We live in a world of entitlement and immediate gratification. Most people these days are of the opinion that they owed everything, are entitled to everything and assume they’re always right. I see a lot of that. Cue a British retail mogul named Selfridge, who coined the phrase “the customer is always right…” In the early 20th Century, Selfridge coined this slogan, but the part that modern people seem to forget, is that the slogan actually reads, “the customer is always right in matters of taste.” This slogan was meant to emphasize that customers should always have their preferences catered to, rather than lose the sale. Somehow, over the decades that followed, it got shortened to “the customer is always right,” and customers the world over have used this as a weapon to assume businesses should bend over backwards to provide things the customer either hasn’t paid for, or isn’t entitled to. The flip side to that coin, is the degradation of customer service in modern retail. More and more, it seems that getting decent service and correct orders in almost any industry is a dead art; businesses preferring to assume customers should just take their chances and suck it up if it’s wrong, rather than actually try to do it right.

It’s a bit of a cynical view, I admit. But it comes from a place of experience and knowledge. I’ve worked in retail industries often over the past three decades, despite my policing career, and I’ve seen the damage from both sides. This is why, when good service is provided, especially good service that goes above and beyond, I believe that is should not only be recognized but thoroughly congratulated. So, here’s the background. I was diagnosed as Type-1 Diabetic when I was four years old. As of two days go, that means that I’ve been Type-1 for 43 years. I’ve been around the block, as far as dealing with every possible situation Diabetes can throw at me, including ketoacidosis, comas, frequent dehydration, eye issues (hence my eye injections) and kidney issues. I’m among the lucky ones, as I’ve worked and fought hard to maintain myself and my health, preventing some of the more serious complications of Type-1, such as organ failure and, well… death. So believe me when I say that I try and do everything right and control my condition with an almost surgeon-like precision.

Whenever I travel, whenever I leave the house, really, I always make a point of bringing along certain necessities with me. This usually includes nasal spray, hand sanitizer, a portable first aid kit, a glucometer, and last but not least, fast-acting carbohydrates, like Skittles or Swedish Berries. This is done almost without exception since, even on a short car ride, my blood can suddenly drop for little to no reason and I can find myself stuck in traffic with no means of treating a low. It’s almost reflexive at this point, having done so for most of my adult life. Which is why the situation that happened last Thursday night came as a bit of a shock… I travelled to Saskatoon for my scheduled eye injections. I do these at 13-week intervals now, which is a marked improvement from the 4-week intervals I started at. Once again, a testament to how the body can heal itself from many conditions if you take care of yourself and give it the tools it needs. I travelled to the city Thursday morning and checked into my hotel room without issue. I walked over to the hospital about mid-afternoon and got checked into for my procedure. Getting through the process can take a couple of hours but the procedure itself is only about ten minutes. Modern medicine, go figure.

That evening, I enjoyed a solitary meal at the Irish pub located on the ground floor of my hotel. Everything went fine and I made my way back up to my room to binge-watch some Netflix and go to sleep. I awoke a couple of hours later to my insulin pump blaring an alarm at me. It appeared that I was suffering a low. Not just a low, but I got the dreaded “Below 2.8mmol/L” message, which meant that my low blood sugar was basically at a life-threatening level. The only thing I can figure is that I had over-bolused for my meal and the additional insulin hadn’t caught up to me until then. Yet another reason why it’s never a good idea to eat so close to bedtime. Accustomed to treating late-night lows, I staggered over to my backpack and rummaged through, trying to wrap my fingers around the live-saving gummies or Skittles I expected to find. Only, I found nothing… The candies I usually so meticulously packed in every bag whenever I left the house were nowhere to be found. Panic began to set in. I considered downing the little sugar packet included with my coffee station but quickly dismissed the idea, since it would have very little effect and I would still be in trouble. With little other choice and quickly losing sense of my faculties, I did the only thing I COULD do; I grabbed my room key and debit card and stumbled out of my room to seek help.

I made my way to the ground floor and remembered the bank of vending machines to my left. I walked over and struggled to see clearly, both from the blood sugar and from my recent eye injections, to figure out if one of the machines took debit. I felt the minutes melting away, so I walked up to the counter and asked the front clerk for help. I managed to mumble out that I was Type-1 Diabetic and was having a low episode and needed his help. Although I have been staying at this hotel for over ten years, I didn’t recognize this man, which likely makes sense as I’m usually sleeping during the over night. This man guided me over to the lobby couch, sat me down and hustled into the restaurant’s kitchen and got me a cup of straight Coke. He handed it to me and watched me as I drank it readily. He got me a refill once I had finished the first cup and carried on from the reception desk, while keeping a clear eye on me. After about ten minutes, my blood sugars started to climb back to a level where I could at least start to see properly and feel a sense of coherence again. He asked me how I was feeling, to which I replied that I was coming around. The clarity of my voice must have encouraged him, compared to what I had initially mumbled.

I slowly walked over to the vending machines and I was able to find one machine that took debit, so I got myself a bottle of Coke to bring back to the room, in the event I dropped again or if I needed a little bit extra. I was sure to thank this gentleman before getting on the elevator. My blood rose to over 4.0 mmol/L before I finally fell back asleep, which isn’t phenomenal but was a clear sign it was climbing and my pump would wake me if it dropped again. I woke up the next morning feeling as though I had been hit by a freight train. I felt like an absolute inexperienced idiot. Not only did I have one of the worst lows in recent memory, I ad to do it while I was away from home and on the one occasion where I somehow forgot to pack some carbs for the trip. I know how the latter happened but I won’t bore you with the reasoning. The bottom line is that when it comes to my health, there is no valid excuse. If anything, I should have checked my back when I arrived and unpacked. At least then, I would have had the opportunity to buy something for the room ahead of time and I could have avoided the whole thing.

As I started sipping my morning caffeine, the reality of the situation started to sink in. The severity of the low and the situation I was in, alone in a hotel room, no sugary products to consume and slowly losing cognitive capacity, this could have gone from bad to extremely worse in very short order, had I not made my way downstairs and if my mystery clerk hadn’t assisted me. Although he may not have been fully aware of just how serious a state I was in, and he may not recognize that he may have potentially saved my life (or at the very least, saved me from an ambulance ride), he rose to the occasion and helped me without hesitation. He could have done what many would have done, and what I’ve been subjected to in the past, where security could have been called, accused me of being intoxicated, etc. After all, incoherent, stumbling man on shorts and bare-footed, mumbling something about an episode; many would have acted differently. But not this man. This man stepped up and gave me the help I needed to allow me to help myself. For me, that’s customer service that goes above and beyond what one would usually hope to find.

When I checked out of my room that morning, I asked the front desk clerk who the gentleman working overnight was called. As I asked, I reached over to the bank of business cards on the desk and grabbed one for the General Manager. I think the clerk took this as a bad sign and asked me if something had happened. I said that yeah, something had happened. This man possibly saved my damn life and I wanted his name so her could be recognized. She told me her name was Greg, and was happy to hear that he was able to help. I’ll be sending a note to their General Manager recognizing this man and what he did for me last Thursday. He showed the kind of attention and assistance that everyone in the service industry should be able to provide for their guests/customers. And I should dare say that customer service like that doesn’t belong on the night shift. Hat’s off to you, Greg! You’re an example to others. Keep up the good work!

For myself, this was a sobering reminder that my condition follows me wherever I go. It doesn’t take days off, doesn’t stay behind when I travel and won’t give me an inch for the mile. By virtue of that, it’s all the more reason for me to be vigilant in preparing for any outing, trip or travel. After all, I can’t always assume that in the event of an emergency, Greg will be there to save the day. Sugary food for thought… ☯️

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. ☯️

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, The Aftermath…

I mean, is it really the aftermath if I haven’t gotten home yet? I’m gonna say it is, because I have a couple of hours to kill and nothing to do. My travel from Campbellton to Moncton yesterday was pretty uneventful. I hit the city around 1:30-ish and since check in time at most hotels is 3 pm, I decided to kill some time by walking around Champlain Place, one of the largest malls in New Brunswick. I wandered for all of about forty minutes before I started getting bored. I would have loved to have grabbed a slice of pizza at the food court but the lines were very not Shawn-esque. I figured I would simply check in at the hotel then reassess as to where I could grab a small meal before my pre-flight slumber. Check in was a okay, despite there being only one person working the counter with several people waiting. One plus is that I’m apparently an IHG member, which I wasn’t aware of. I’m sure I would have been aware at the time when I got it but apparently I had forgotten.

The nice part about being an IHG Rewards member is I got a free room upgrade and treated to some complimentary waters and snacks. My name was written on a board at the entrance, welcoming me to the hotel. I mean, it was written with about a dozen other people so it’s not like I was singled out or anything. But it was still cool. I enjoy getting things just as much as the next person, but being upgraded to a king bed suite is something that would be nicer if I had my wife with me. I’m all alone; what do I need with a king sized bed instead of a queen? Once I ditched all my stuff in the room, I made my way to a gas station, conveniently in the same parking lot, and ensured my rental car’s tank was full. Then, and because I’m cheap, I hit up McDonald’s (also in the same parking lot). By 4 o’clock, I was in the room, in pajamas and watching Big Bang Theory on the big screen.

My alarm obediently pissed me off this morning at 3 am, which prompted me to hit the ground running and grab a shower, shave, ditch the toiletries and disposable extras I had purchased for the trip and make my way to the airport. Now, I’m seated here in a quasi-empty terminal waiting a bit more than an hour and a half for my flight to board. According to all indications, my flight is scheduled to be on time. This is good news, considering I received a rather disturbing email last night that Air Canada’s cabin crew union was planning job action today and several flights have already been canceled. One would think that potentially being grounded in one’s home province would be a pleasant surprise. But that’s the big issue, isn’t it? And something I realized the hard way during my time here… New Brunswick isn’t my home anymore. Saskatchewan is. That’s where my home, my family and my life are. New Brunswick has simply become the place I go to in order to visit my parents. And even that prospect is quickly slipping away.

The first leg of my trip sees me fly to Montreal; an approximate 40-minute flight. Then, I’ll have about an hour and a half’s layover in the Montreal Terminal. I usually prefer Toronto, since there are actual food options and snacks available. Montreal’s departure terminal is usually pretty bare and doesn’t have many options for anything to eat. Considering I left the hotel before the ass crack of dawn and the longest stretch from Montreal to Regina is about 4 hours, that’s a hell of a long time to go without food. Even WITH Ozempic stemming my appetite. Granted, It’s Friday morning and my injection is patiently waiting for me at home in Regina. I’m rather surprised that my hunger hasn’t already started to make a selfish appearance. That’s the beauty of stress from traveling, I guess. One way or another, I”ll survive. So long as both my flights are on time, I should get home just before lunch.

Considering I titled this post as an aftermath, here is where I take the time to reflect on my week in New Brunswick and what I did and didn’t accomplish. I didn’t manage to communicate with my father. He slept each time I popped in and the one time I tried to rouse him from sleep, it didn’t work. Staff are supposed to let him know I’ve been visiting over recent days. I saw my mother three times. In one instance, I was able to have an open conversation with her about non-specific or memory related matters. She was clam enough but distant and not engaged. My uncle had warned me that this was the state she was at. Seeing her limited to a wheelchair is likely what struck me hardest. Once a proud woman who prided herself on caring for others now had nothing left in her life but having strangers take care of her. I confirmed both parents’ funeral arrangements, because THAT’s what one wants to be doing during a vacation, and obtained the pertinent paperwork for my parents that should allow me to put through my information request for my father. In the months to come, I hope to get at least SOME explanation behind his paralysis. I never thought it would be so fuckin’ difficult simply knowing what had happened to a member of my family.

On the positive side, I got to spend some time with some old and important friends; the ones who are still in the area and have always been supportive and welcoming when I’ve come home. I got to sit and converse with Sensei, whom I consider to be not only a mentor but a second father. Speaking with him made me feel a bit better about things, albeit for only a brief time. I got the chance to see Guillaume who, even if we saw each other in May, was a pleasure to chat with and catch up. Our conversations are like taking a trip back to 1996; we still have the same personalities, attitudes and tone to our stories. I got to spend some time with Ricky and Sam, shares some meals and shoot some pool; something I never do in Regina, even if we have pool halls. And of course, I got to have a couple of sit downs with my uncle, without whom none of the care for my parents would be possible. All in all, there was some positive.

Now, as I sit here alone and contemplating, the realization has set in that this will likely be the last time i return to New Brunswick with the exception of funerals. It feels like the chapter has completely closed. I’d like to say I have a heavy heart or am saddened by the prospect but in reality, I’m rather numb and uncertain how to feel about it. I’m sure it’ll hit me sometime later, at the worst and most inconvenient time. But for now and since I still have an hour to wait for my first flight, I need to go find some caffeine. TSA made me leave my can of energy drink behind. Dictators. I totally get it but that shit is expensive. And a cold, carbonated beverage isn’t exactly something you can shotgun on the fly. Such is life. So this marks the end of this little travel series of posts. For any of you who may have been thinking “Fuck this shit! All this guy writes about is traveling and sad family crap…” Don’t away yet. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled Buddhist karateka posts soon enough. Keep reading, friends… ☯️