Category: Opinion

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… ☯️

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 4…

Ah, bureaucracy… Apparently the world is incapable of living without it. One of the big reasons I came home this time around, was to see to certain things. First, I had to ensure that my parents’ funeral and burial arrangements were taken care of. Certainly a morbid reason for coming home, but the funeral home that they engage their prepaid contracts with had apparently closed and I had to ensure that their contracts had been carried over to someone else. Second, I needed to storm the local hospital and get some answers around how/why my father is paralyzed and what caused it. For fuck’s sakes, the man himself doesn’t know what happened! Can you imagine, a prisoner in your own body and no one around you is/can tell you what happened or why??? I called several times while my father was IN the hospital and never got answers or calls back, so I didn’t really anticipate getting any now. Hence, here we are.

My day yesterday started pretty normally, all things considered. Although not a vacation, I was able to sleep in a bit and woke to an alarm that was later than it would be back home. Well, later as seen through the lens of this time zone. 8 am here is actually only 5 am back in Saskatchewan so if we want to get technical, I’ve been waking up earlier while here. But whatevs… After a breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and yogurt, I started planning out my day. I started by doing a quick load of laundry at the hotel. I had anticipated doing this only once during the week I was here, so that I wouldn’t be traveling with dirty clothes. Unfortunately, it’s been so damn hot here (it reached 41 degrees yesterday, or 105 for you Fahrenheit folks). Usually, by the time I get back to the room, I’ve sweated and dried off more than once and I’m burning through clean clothes like a teenager trying on outfits. This led me to start my morning by doing a load. That’s when I discovered something interesting. It is nearly impossible to find single-use laundry detergent. I usually see that shit all the time, back home. In convenience stores and such. But not here, Luckily, with the help of a friend, I found a package with three packets for single use. Satisfied, I headed back and planned to start my load. Lo and behold, the packets were for a “sink rinse” and not an actual washing machine. I didn’t know what effect this would have on in the machine but luckily, I was able to buy a small box from the front desk (at a ridiculously inflated price, of course.

Once my laundry was done and I was showered up and ready to go, I hit up the funeral home. So, here’s the scenario… My parents prepaid for all their funeral arrangements about fifteen years ago. Caskets, services and burial, everything was taken care of. Smart, right? More people should be that proactive. It SHOULD be saving me a bunch of problems in the eventuality that one of them departs. The problem? The funeral location in Dalhousie that holds their contracts has closed. This was a problem in May when I came by but I wasn’t able to get any answers or speak with anybody. This time, I found a branch of the funeral home in Campbellton. I spoke to a very nice man who indicated that all contracts were actually housed at his location, and always had been. This was interesting. He also indicated that since Dalhousie’s undertaker/embalmer had retired approximately ten years ago, the Dalhousie location was used only for services. Preparations were all done from the Campbellton location. He indicated my parents’ contracts were filed and in place and would be honored when the time came. Cue one sigh of relief, right about here…

My next stop was the hospital. Just for a bit of context, the Campbellton Regional Hospital is the only hospital within approximately one hour. There are clinics, walk-ins and private doctor’s offices sprinkled around but this is the only hospital. It’s also where, for approximately one month, my father was brought in for pneumonia, suffered lung failure and was intubated, suffered an undiagnosed stomach bleed that they never remedied and had what we thought at the time, may have been a stroke. He went in as a man whose legs didn’t work and returned to the nursing home as a man whose legs didn’t was paralyzed. The salt in the wound? NO one updated me. No one called me. No one explained to me what happened. They should have and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. I called the hospital three times over the course of the following two weeks. Nothing. No answers, no conversation with the doctor. Usually a generic “someone will call you back.” Then no one would. Silence. Wonderful, right? That’s why I decided that my only option was to come out here and deal with it in person. It’s much harder to ignore and dismiss someone standing in front of you than to ignore and email or fail to return a call.

I walked into the hospital yesterday with a grim determination to get answers. Someone had to know something and damn it, I was going to find out who. As I walked into the hospital, I contemplated stopping at the main reception desk and inquiring. Instead, I decided to start at the source; the ICU. I walked into with the confidence of a man who belonged there and had every reason to be there. I heard my wife’s cautious voice in my head, “Don’t do anything to get yourself arrested…” Not for the first time, her sage words helped calm me and I recognized that I would likely catch more flies with honey. I made my inquiries and asked about obtaining the information. I was told I would have to speak to the hospital archives. Okay, great. They had an orderly walk me there, which was nice. So far, so good. I’m being helped and nobody has stone-walled me. Maybe this would go smoother than I thought. I was about to be proven wrong.

I walked into the archive department and explained my inquiry. The clerk asked me if I had Power of Attorney for my father. Yes, I do. Provided it and she read it. She argued that my mother was listed as Power of Attorney. I explained that she had dementia and no longer holds decisional capacity, meaning the Power of Attorney reverts to me. She stepped out to the back and came back and asked if I had Power of Attorney for my mother. I said that I did but what did that mean? I was there for my father. She explained that her boss indicated that if I could provide mom’s Power of Attorney as well, it would suit their purposes. I’m usually hesitant with things like this but it’s a fucking hospital! They should actually have a copy of both their Powers of Attorney on file. They’ve both been in the hospital and have had their respective Attorneys acting on their behalf. But whatever got the job done, so I explained I would have to walk back to the car and retrieve it. No problem. Okay, back into the heat, get mom’s Power of Attorney and head back in. The air conditioning in the hospital was splendid.

The clerk’s boss was waiting when I came in and took the additional papers from me. She then argued that my uncle Danny was named as Power of Attorney for my mother, not me. I explained that my uncle Danny would not act in this instance, so the Power of Attorney reverted to me. I’m not sure why this was so complicated for everyone to understand. I’m not a lawyer and I can read that document and understand it clearly. Granted, i run a provincial regulator and read legislation on a daily basis, so there’s that. I then placed both my feet firmly in my mouth. I asked what the difference was for my mother, since the Power of Attorney doesn’t prove she had dementia, so it’s pointless to argue over it. They agreed and requested I get a copy of her physical assessment from the nursing home, showing she was deemed as having dementia. Okay, NOW my blood pressure is starting to rise. Excuse me? I understand filling out forms and doing things properly, but it was starting to border on the ridiculous.

I filled out all the appropriate forms and included my email address so that they could email me the materials I asked for once they were reviewed. New Brunswick’s legislation allows them 30 days to complete their review. I’m nothing if not aware of how legislation works. They indicated they couldn’t promise anything but it would be helpful if I could get my mom’s assessment paper work from the nursing home. Like most family members and speaking strictly in generalities, I’m not a big fan of the nursing home or their staff. I understand that everyone is overworked and understaffed but when it comes to a loved one’s wellbeing, there should be an exception to that rule. My parents don’t get the care and attention that they need or deserve. For this reason, I usually have little use for the staff, which is why I was able to breeze in and out of there to visit my folks without engaging anyone. Now, I would have to intentionally do so. Great. I left the hospital thinking I was at least making headway and would soon have some answers.

Once I got back to the car and allowed the A/C to properly cool my head, a thought occurred. My uncle took care of admitting my mother and having her assessment done in my absence. I asked if he had copies of the paperwork. He indicated he did and would dig it up this evening and I could meet him shortly after supper to retrieve it. Perfect! I wouldn’t have to deal with the nursing home. I took solace in this and went to a local coffee shop and relaxed with a coffee and a piece of sugar pie. Exhaustion from the heat and the emotional ups and downs were starting to take their toll. I relaxed for about an hour before returning to the hotel room and refreshing myself, then hit the road for Dalhousie. I toured the town, visited my old high school, wandered the front street and sat by the water front, watching the waves lap gently against the rocks, with the breeze blowing and seagulls screeching overhead. I was in the midst of a fully stereotyped Maritime scene when I remembered that there was a family member I hadn’t taken the time to visit yet; my brother.

The cemetery where my brother is located is on the top of a quiet, scenic hill. Overlooking the bay, there’s no better place in the area for quiet contemplation and remembering one’s departed family members. I don’t pray, talk to the headstone or any of the usual activities that many engage in when they visit a graveyard. For me, it’s more a sign of respect t for my brother that I attend his burial site and just BE there; a symbol of the place where his physical form was last ON the earth before being placed below it. While I stood there in silent reverence, I took a moment to glance up at the headstones for my grandparents and my parents. It always sends a small chill down my spine, as my name and date of birth are included on my parents’ headstone as well. I apparently have a plot available right next to my brother, placing me between him and my parents. But as I looked up at my grandparents’ headstone, something caught my eye; my grandfather’s brother, whom I had known all my life, apparently passed away last year. WTF??? I would have assumed my uncle Danny would have mentioned it to me, but never did. Another fun little notch on the checklist of bullshit for this trip. But I digress…

A brief visit to Danny’s house revealed that he had none of the paperwork he thought he had and certainly no copies of mom’s assessment. Great. Back to square one, except I lost the day relaxing when I should have just taken the initiative instead. I made my way back to Campbellton where I enjoyed a late dinner alone before returning to my room. So this morning, once I’ve showered and shaved, I’ll be heading back to Dalhousie once again to try and get some answers and paper work. I’ve never seen such a complicated process to simply get answers about a medical condition in my life. Hopefully, I’ll have better luck in getting this done today than I did yesterday. Although it’s been nice to see some people that I know, I miss home and my family. I have another three days here and I’m just hoping that the wildfires down south won’t prevent me from leaving. I’m honestly not sure what I’ll do, if this becomes the case. But for now, time to pull my socks up and get the day going. ☯️

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 2…

Considering this is the beginning of my second full day here in New Brunswick, I figured I should get the next post up before memory starts to fade. My flights on Sunday went just about as well as one could expect. The first leg, from Regina to Toronto, saw me relax with a movie and finish out a book I had been reading. However, once I arrived in Toronto and took my phone off of airplane mode, I was hit with a barrage of text messages and emails, outlining that my flight had been delayed by approximately an hour and a half. Fuck. For everyone’s clarity, I chose the early flight that I did because New Brunswick is actually in a time zone that’s three hours ahead of Saskatchewan. So the later I leave, the later in the day I arrive. Couple that with the fact the airport is about a four-hour drive away from my destination, and landing late into the evening becomes a tiring problem. So that hour and half was going to play on me at the other end. Luckily, whatever issue the airline was having got remedied and it was only a forty minute delay.

This forty minute delay was exacerbated by a missing cabin crew member, which meant they couldn’t board the aircraft until this member arrived. Fucking lovely. I landed in Moncton, New Brunswick at about 6:30 pm, local time. My vehicle booking was scheduled for 5:30 and my big fear was that the rental kiosk would be closed. There are no other means of transportation from Moncton to Campbellton short of paying a cab, which would run me up several hundred dollars. Then, I would still face the issue of being unable to get around for the next week AND returning to Moncton. Apparently, the rental kiosk are advised when there are flight delays and they stay open until all flights with potential vehicle renters have landed. I got the keys to my small-sized SUV and hit the highway. The initial leg of the trip north was pretty uneventful; music, singing, sucking back an energy drink and planning out my week in my head. Then, reality decided to slap me in the face…

I reached Miramichi, a small city that usually considered something of an unofficial halfway point between Moncton and the North Shore, without any issue. Besides some frustrating slow drivers, it was uneventful. I decided to play my cards right and stop at the local Walmart to grab some of the small, travel accessories and I would need for my week. I grabbed a quick snack as well and got back on the road. About four or five kilometers up the highway, I came to a blockade that read “Road Closed.” What in the actual fuck??? For reference, Highway 8 is a North/South highway that cuts through a rather large outcropping of the north-eastern part of the Province. Bypassing it and driving along the coast adds almost two hours to the transit. A police vehicle was parked at the boundary, so I parked on the side of the highway and asked him what’s up. He advised that central New Brunswick was currently dealing with a large wildfire that was burning uncontrolled. By virtue of this, the highway was closed due to the danger.

I started to get the definite impression that fate was trying o prevent me from reaching my destination. If you look at the map above, you can clearly see the area circled in yellow is marked off in red. That’s the portion of highway that was closed off because of the wildfire. The detour? A complicated, involved hodgepodge of secondary routes that included some that brought me back a ways south. If I’d had my GPS on when I left the airport, I might have seen this closed portion and could have planned accordingly. In this instance, since I was traveling the highways I had grown up on, I didn’t bother. I guarantee the damn GPS got activated after that. I drove for almost two hours along this detour before I finally got back on Highway, just outside of a small area named Lavilette. Think that little red dash looks small? Insignificant? Not that very far? Let’s put some of that into perspective for you…

The detour has drivers heading North-East on Highway 11, which during the daytime is actually a beautiful and scenic coastal drive. It also takes significantly longer, since it curves outwards along the coast instead of simply cutting straight through. Once you pass a small village called New Jersey (totally not kidding, we have such a place in New Brunswick), you turn onto a secondary back road at a village called Lagaceville. This brings you to Route 480, which eventually brings you back to Highway 8, where one can continue on their way. All in all it adds roughly an hour onto a four hour drive. To add insult to injury, it was dark, these secondary routes weren’t lit and drivers were going significantly below the speed limit. In the end, I walked into my hotel for check in at approximately 10:30 pm instead of roughly 8:30 pm as I had originally planned. Thank god my flight wasn’t any later in the day.

On the brighter side, my front desk clerk recognized me from my visit in May. He commented on how late I was checking in. Not in a sarcastic or rude way, mind you; just asking about how my travels had been. When I explained, he upgraded me to a room with a king sized bed. While generous, I didn’t need extra bed space as I’m sleeping alone. It would have been better to simply have one of my nights comped. But in any case, generous is generous and I thanked him for the consideration. The room’s A/C was blasting and the room was like a refrigerator. Perfect. I always run hot, so after a day’s travel, this was a welcome temperature. I unpacked my necessities for the night and I c rushed. Hard. It was a fitful sleep, as I never quite seem to sleep well when away from home. But I got some rest and made it through my first night. I had a pretty full day yesterday, But I’ll include that in a seperate post, since it might get too lengthy to jam into this one. Needless to say, these won’t be the last hiccups I deal with during my week…

☯️

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. ☯️