Well, anchors aweigh isn't all that easy. I did the crazy thing and bought the Winnebago Chieftain, the 22' with granite counters and wood flooring. It is much roomier inside, full oven and 4-burner stove, lots more storage, generator, bigger bath, and I figured it would be better to go in style. John and I may be more at peace with some space. The Chief has bunkbeds in the back, a couch that makes a full-size bed, and a twin bed in the loft over the front seats. Plenty of room for hitchhiking hotties. Do they still do that?
Plus, I need to use up my carbon allotment. I am hoping for 7-8 mpg from the 7.8L 454 Chevy monster engine, maybe more since I am not towing anything. However, there are a few big issues. The Chief is in the RV garage right now, getting the fuel tank fixed. It is leaking at the fill tube, which I didn't realize until we put some gas in it. When I bought it the tank was near empty. I suppose the seller knew that leak was there, but maybe that's why it was only $4K. With only one 32 gallon fuel tank, the range is only about 250 miles, where the Econoline had 2 tanks and a range of 400 plus miles.
I think with the upgrades and miles, 67,500, I have a few grand to fix what is wrong and still be ahead. I have spent the last week fixing lots of smaller things. The guy I bought it from kept losing keys, so I am struggling with doors and some side compartments. It's time to see a locksmith. The spare tire cover was locked with no keys, so I drilled the locks out and have it working but not locking. A few miniblinds, light covers, non-working overhead lights, a big cleaning, but the major components like propane, toilets and sinks, wastewater tanks, are all working and not leaking. The engine is strong, new front shocks, tranny seems sound, and I hope the mechanic doesn't find much else.
That other RV I bought, the Ford Econoline, was displaying signs of a troubled youth, so I will take the time to fix some leaky spots over the next few months, and try to recover the costs in the spring when people are thinking of travelling again. Dana of course was right, don't rush into it she said, but I don't feel like time is on my side. I am trying to get back east to see my Mom by her birthday, Sep. 19, so realistically we have to leave by the 5th if we want to see some sights along the way.
We had planned to leave this past weekend, then reality struck me in the head. I had an appointment Friday to bring the RV in and get the fuel tank fixed. I had a chemo dose of methotrexate on Thursday, and then 8:30 Friday another chemo appointment for some Asparaginase. I had this drug back in '05 at Stanford and had a local reaction to it at the site of injection (crook of my elbow), and then I had it a couple of weeks ago as an IV. I had no reaction then except a tougher nadir, but it's a more powerful drug than Cytarabine.
So Friday they start dripping the asparaginase into me, and about 3 minutes in I feel the world is getting a little shakier, and my head is heating up. I ring the holy moly bell, and the nurse comes over and sees that I am crashing, going into anaphylactic shock. She and some other nurses call the doc over, and they are hitting me with epinephrine and other stuff, and they call 911. I vaguely hear them calling out the blood pressure, and it is dropping like a stone. When it hits 60/40 I think "This is it, baby, I am going down," but I have a great doc and skilled nurses, and by the time the ambulance arrives I am stabilized.
Off we go to the hospital, to the ER, and the doctor there decides he has to rule out a stroke or heart attack. I had an allergic reaction, I am not pregnant either, don't make me pee on a stick. It is now after 10:00 am, ER is a zoo complete with loonies, and I see my day slipping away. My boat won't be setting sail this weekend. The doctor comes in with CT results and tells me my brain looks abnormal, there may be leukemia in there. I tell him we just ruled that out a week ago with a spinal tap, but he is undaunted. I am doing all I can not to get sarcastic with this guy, since he holds my day in his clipboard head. He wants to be House, and I want to be Road Warrior.
Now he wants an MRI of my head to see what is going on, and he schedules it for 3:30. I suggest that whatever is crawling around in my cranium won't kill me over the weekend; let's schedule this for Monday. No, this looks weird, let's get it done, and oh, no food until then. I ask why no food for an MRI of my skull, and he says they don't want me puking in the MR tube. I tell him I just had a dose of Anzmet, a very good anti-nausea, and I am not a puker anyway, but no, no food until 4:30. I didn't plan to fast but what can you do? I had no book, no magazine, only my dying cell phone. Thankfully there was a succession of loomies trying to get some pharmaceuticals for their pains, and they were entertaining.
We get the MRI done, and the doctor who reads the scan comes in and says I have brain damage; the sheath that should be wrapped around each neuron is stripped away. That expains the weight loss, I tell him, and the urge to pole dance. For crying out loud, what did he expect after 5 1/2 years of chemo, cranial and full body irradiation, and too many drugs? But, let's press on. He says this could indicate leukemia or MS, they have similar symptoms. Numbness in the hands, vision problems, loss of strength. Dana has shown up just in time to hear all this from the doctor, including some bit about possible seizures. That makes her real comfy with the idea of an 8,000 mile road trip in a big old RV. Hah, brain damage, what do they know?
I ask him about the prognosis with MS, and he tells me it would take years to kill me. I tell him it's a good thing since I am already dying of leukemia and only have 1-2 years left. I know how this will play out, though. Some genius researcher in Germany or Japan will come up with a stem cell cure for ALL, and then can I can turn into a MS patient. If that happens I will buy a 30 year old airplane and learn to fly. The bucket gets bigger. Heavier too.
So now we are probably leaving this weekend, along with all the other Labor Day vacationers. First to Zion, then to the Badlands. I told John I get the white hat and he gets the black, and we ride horses at each other down this canyon, firing away with laser tag. That would be cool. Then we have a shootout in Deadwood. Hah, brain damage. Niagara, Toronto, maybe Montreal, hang in there Mom, I am riding a white horse with a white hat.
Glad to hear that Pat came up with Winnebacome, Winnebago. Kind of long though. We are thinking of other names for the RV; Dana suggested 'John's Folly,' but I like the idea of a woman's name for machines and boats. Winnie is too obvious. What Indians had women as chiefs? Sacagawea was not a chief, but she did great things and was a wanderlust. That name may be too long and get shortened to 'The Sac,' not very appealing. Same problem with Pocahontas. So, I am open to suggestions. John says 'Chief Bull Goose Loony,' forget women's names, but why not Chief Bromden then? Chief Broom suits my anal retentive nature. Plus, he got away. Winnalottery? WinnaWinnaChickenDinna?
Nice to hear from you Janna and MG, hope all is well. And Mac, if I coulda bought that Appalachian hillbilly moonshine RV, I woulda, but a liberal like me would get found out and Deliveranced, and I don't want that. I try not to joust with the tea partiers, but it is so hard. Now that Obama is a muslim from Kenya responsible for the deficit and wars, what can I say? Thankfully I can always count on some serene imagery from Mo to grease my anchor chain. Say, if I name the RV Minnie, we could all get in and be the Pep boys, Minnie, Mo and Mac!
So if all goes well, we are out of here and on an epic journey. I will keep a travelogue posted when we find internet cafes. Anchors aweigh!
Monday, August 30, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
The art of insanity
Things have been tough around here. My gut has been in serious pain, on and off, feeling like I got stabbed in the right side, same spot every time. Then I started getting headaches and ear rushes, and dizziness sometimes when I stand up. So last week when I went in for chemo, my doctor checked me out and said skip the chemo, let's get you a CT scan of the abdomen and a spinal tap to see if the leukemia is resurgent. He was concerned (me too) that the area of my pancreas and liver, and my brain, had a buildup of leukemia, and chemo was not working.
I had the CT scan on Thursday and the spinal tap on Friday, too much fun really for just one person. In order to get me in all the right positions, they installed this new joystick device on my head, and they use that to get you to open wide, roll to the side, and other stuff. Here it is:
That is saliva on my tongue, not a piercing.
I just got the call from my doctor with the results, and it turns out my stomach pain is from a kinky intestine, and the headaches are because I bought an RV and I have been fixing all the things wrong with it. My mom is turning 87 on Sept. 19, and I wanted to have a road trip to see her. She is in the hospital right now with some infections, but she is improving.
My son John has agreed to come with me, and the trip was contingent on those results. Now I am going to get chemo on Wednesday, and rush to fix this RV, or abandon ship on this one and buy a better unit. There is one available that is the bomb, slightly bigger but in much better shape and cheaper at $4000, but with a monster engine (7.8 liter V8) and 6-7 mpg v. 10-11 for the one I have.
The RV I have is a 1988 Ford F250, 19' with a 354 v8 with 69K miles, and the other is a 1986 Winnebago Chieftain 22' but really trimmed out and everything working. We are talking granite countertops and wood floors, bamboo ceilings, two working generators, oven, and those are just the things that the Ford doesn't have. The difference in mpg means about $.20 more per mile, and for the luxury and headache relief I may buy it, bite the bullet and set the other one aside for now and repair it to better shape slowly, then sell it. The bad news is the market is flooded with RVs, so it may let it sit until spring.
I have mastered the art of insanity, or am I just stupid? Both.
I was swayed by the Semper Fi status of the RV, but now I think I blew it, because there are too many things wrong with this RV, and I haven't even started looking for roof leaks.
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley,
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I am not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow-- the wine.
I had the CT scan on Thursday and the spinal tap on Friday, too much fun really for just one person. In order to get me in all the right positions, they installed this new joystick device on my head, and they use that to get you to open wide, roll to the side, and other stuff. Here it is:
That is saliva on my tongue, not a piercing.
I just got the call from my doctor with the results, and it turns out my stomach pain is from a kinky intestine, and the headaches are because I bought an RV and I have been fixing all the things wrong with it. My mom is turning 87 on Sept. 19, and I wanted to have a road trip to see her. She is in the hospital right now with some infections, but she is improving.
My son John has agreed to come with me, and the trip was contingent on those results. Now I am going to get chemo on Wednesday, and rush to fix this RV, or abandon ship on this one and buy a better unit. There is one available that is the bomb, slightly bigger but in much better shape and cheaper at $4000, but with a monster engine (7.8 liter V8) and 6-7 mpg v. 10-11 for the one I have.
The RV I have is a 1988 Ford F250, 19' with a 354 v8 with 69K miles, and the other is a 1986 Winnebago Chieftain 22' but really trimmed out and everything working. We are talking granite countertops and wood floors, bamboo ceilings, two working generators, oven, and those are just the things that the Ford doesn't have. The difference in mpg means about $.20 more per mile, and for the luxury and headache relief I may buy it, bite the bullet and set the other one aside for now and repair it to better shape slowly, then sell it. The bad news is the market is flooded with RVs, so it may let it sit until spring.
I have mastered the art of insanity, or am I just stupid? Both.
I was swayed by the Semper Fi status of the RV, but now I think I blew it, because there are too many things wrong with this RV, and I haven't even started looking for roof leaks.
Either travelling in a leaker or in style, we may leave as early as this weekend for the road trip back to RI, starting with somewhere in Nevada, then on up to South Dakota and the Crazy Horse memorial. Badlands National Park is right there, and Mt. Rushmore too. From there I am not sure, somewhere in Minnesota or Michigan, and on to Niagara Falls, probably from the Toronto area. If time permits, on to Montreal, and then through NY to RI. Looks like 2 weeks on the road, a week in RI, then return via NC and hang with Lisa and Manuel for a while, and then go see Frank in N.Mex., and then home.
That could be too long a trip, and chemo along the way may prove problematic, but that is the plan for now. After that I plan to outfit the RV with floats and a rudder, and away to Australia!
A Poem, Litany, by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley,
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I am not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow-- the wine.
Friday, August 06, 2010
Pics and Vids from the Tetons and Yellowstone
In the Grand Tetons 7/26
Jenny Lake, Grand Tetons National Forest, campsite First come first serve, and this was the last site at 7:30 am. A nice site with a lot of space. 7/26
Life from death, Jenny Lake
View of Jenny Lake, view to shuttle landing on oppposite side. Landing leads to the Hidden Falls. $10 round trip. I walked.
The valley view from Signal Mountain. As I left the Grand Teton NP, I spotted Signal Mountain and though, maybe I can get a signal on my phone, get some messages and make some calls. Sure enough, there is a cell tower at the top and my phone goes nuts, but also awesome views of the valley and of the Tetons. 7/27
7/27 Signal Mountain Info
Valley view from Signal Mountain
Panorama of the Grand Tetons from Signal Mountain. Left to right
Panorama 2
Panorama 3
Panorama 4
Panorama 5
Panorama 6
Panorama 7
Panorama 8
Snake River Falls 7/28/10
A corkscrew tree 7/28
I really was there 7/28
Bison. Like seeing a cow in Wisconsin 7/28.
Tourists stop in the middle of the road, and run to get a pic of a bison 200 yards away.
Elk 7/28
Elk herd
These shots are in the Old Faithful area
Bizarre Fire Lake Drive landscape 8/1
Bison herd on the move
Fire Lake Drive
Fire Lake Drive geyser
Old Faithful
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