roanoke.com -Soldier finds no place like home
I was recently at the trailhead for Dragon's Tooth. The only worry I had was, when reading the trail guide, it mentions that the last 1/3rd of the trail would use both your hands and feet to accomplish and under that was the phone number for Lewis-Gale Hospital.
That gave me pause.
But this article should be reprinted in the Roanoke Valley Visitors Guide, and memorized by every resident of the Roanoke Valley who whines about there being nothing to do.
Exculding Central Park, each of the 5 boros has its own park which is nice enough - but nothing even close to the Roanoke River Greenway. Of course you always could go for a walk, but you felt (and I still feel this way sometimes) that there had to be a destination. Usually a store of some kind. Otherwise you were walking for no reason. For a hike in Manhattan, you have to head uptown towards Columbia University, over along the Hudson River are the Cloisters. Dramatic cliffs, spectacular views, nearly unimpeded by traffic and all the rest.
Im my home borough of Queens, there is Forest Park - which I have traversed many a time in my youth. Flushing Meadows Park, Gateway National Park (if you don't mind 747's roaring overhead), Rockaway Beach (long boardwalk, which you really only want to walk half of), and a handful of scattered parks and such. But nothing that compares to the Greenway System Roanoke has.
I've walked 8th Ave. from Houston St. to 34th. I've covered miles at ground level in Manhattan. I have biked from 109th Ave. in Queens to Park Lane S. (would be 84th Ave.). My grandfather rides the same route on his bike.
I've walked the beaches of Montauk, Long Beach, Jones Beach. My route to school was 1.3 miles round trip.
I've hiked through snowmobile/cross country ski trails in Vermont.
But nothing compares to the easy access, cultivated yet natural, well maintained Greenway system.
Technorati tags: roanoke, home, soldier, Mill Mountain, recreation greenway
9/16/05
Editorials from The Roanoke Times -Engaging minds through the arts
Simply put, maybe - but most likely, no. And as this editorial fails to mention, Roanoke County has also placed within that $200,000 stipend a little clause which states that yearly the $200k will be re-authorized provided it can be proven that the AMWV is providing a benifit to school children. The curriculum must be correct and to the County's liking. Which gives the County a great "easy-out" for pulling funding.
Yes, the arts can breech a wall between worlds for those who are interested. But that is a journey best undertaken by the student. Expose them, surely - but they won't learn what they don't wish to learn - fiber optic cables be damned. Besides, doesn't VT have a outstanding art collection? And Radford? I hear tell that even Roanoke College has an art collection of some renown. All within easy field trip distance. And none costing the $200k a year, plus expenses that the AMWV will be. And don't think for a second that the $200k figure includes admission for field trips. It might now, but once the budget starts flailing - it will not for long.
Meh, just the way I see it anyway.
Technorati tags: roanoke, art museum, amwv, school, budget
Yes, the arts can breech a wall between worlds for those who are interested. But that is a journey best undertaken by the student. Expose them, surely - but they won't learn what they don't wish to learn - fiber optic cables be damned. Besides, doesn't VT have a outstanding art collection? And Radford? I hear tell that even Roanoke College has an art collection of some renown. All within easy field trip distance. And none costing the $200k a year, plus expenses that the AMWV will be. And don't think for a second that the $200k figure includes admission for field trips. It might now, but once the budget starts flailing - it will not for long.
Meh, just the way I see it anyway.
Technorati tags: roanoke, art museum, amwv, school, budget
roanoke.com - Editorial Columnists Stories -New home, no place to hide
roanoke.com - Editorial Columnists Stories -New home, no place to hide: “When Tommy Denton called me in June and asked if I was interested in joining The Roanoke Times' editorial team, I jumped at the opportunity. The Times editorial page under Denton has earned a reputation in editorial circles for engaging, reasoned writing that generates interest with readers. It is, by all accounts, an exciting place to work. A young, single editorial writer could do a lot worse.
Denton told me that he was looking for someone who could bring a different perspective to the page, someone who could speak for younger people in an area that is watching many of them move away. I am, after all, one of those people. I just happen to be coming instead of going.
On the editorial board, I will advocate for teens and young adults who too often are ignored in the public forum. When officials wonder whether they are doing enough for seniors or families, I will ask whether they are doing enough for young workers who live a different lifestyle. The needs and wants of those groups do not always match, but they are not mutually exclusive, either.”
Allright, yet another one. And just when I thought that the younger bloggers (ie. Texican, Rhett, and myself) were doing a pretty good job of being "the mouse that roared." Well I guess not. Although I do have to say, I heart Roanoke. Roanoke makes me happy, gives me a life I enjoy. Thomas Denton, I am willing to venture, does not even read one of the blogs listed on the RT Blogroll on a regular basis enough to know if the voice of youth is being heard. Then again, it is hard to find the listing for the day's blogs when they are hidden 3/4ths of the way down the main page. Not to mention that annoying Valley View Mall pop-up ad. The blog of the day does need to be updated more than once or twice a week as it is. But I do give sympathies to the person who has to change the code, troll the blogs, and make the choice. This is a new world for newspapers to embark upon. There is no black and white guidebook on how to handle it.
To you, and your cat Snorri; I say welcome. Welcome to Roanoke, and all it is. Which is more than you might think at first. But realize one thing, you might be the questioning print hovering in the hands of officials, but print can only go so far. It is up to the young of the area to speak out and make their concerns known. Did anyone ask if the youth wanted a new Art Museum? Or perhaps a new shopping center along Franklin Rd.? No, it was just assumed they would slide right into the menial jobs of clerk, cashier, and "coffee bar attendant." There is your consideration. If they understand that because they do not speak out now, they lose their voice in the future - then change will occur. Until then, youth of Roanoke, you are all wage-slaves like me. Supplying a product at reasonable cost.
There lies your challenge, make them understand. And I too am coming, with no plans of leaving any time soon. There's far too much opportunity here than Roanoke itself realizes. I might be a transplant, but my roots are set.
Technorati tags: roanoke, editorial, newcomer, youth, change
Denton told me that he was looking for someone who could bring a different perspective to the page, someone who could speak for younger people in an area that is watching many of them move away. I am, after all, one of those people. I just happen to be coming instead of going.
On the editorial board, I will advocate for teens and young adults who too often are ignored in the public forum. When officials wonder whether they are doing enough for seniors or families, I will ask whether they are doing enough for young workers who live a different lifestyle. The needs and wants of those groups do not always match, but they are not mutually exclusive, either.”
Allright, yet another one. And just when I thought that the younger bloggers (ie. Texican, Rhett, and myself) were doing a pretty good job of being "the mouse that roared." Well I guess not. Although I do have to say, I heart Roanoke. Roanoke makes me happy, gives me a life I enjoy. Thomas Denton, I am willing to venture, does not even read one of the blogs listed on the RT Blogroll on a regular basis enough to know if the voice of youth is being heard. Then again, it is hard to find the listing for the day's blogs when they are hidden 3/4ths of the way down the main page. Not to mention that annoying Valley View Mall pop-up ad. The blog of the day does need to be updated more than once or twice a week as it is. But I do give sympathies to the person who has to change the code, troll the blogs, and make the choice. This is a new world for newspapers to embark upon. There is no black and white guidebook on how to handle it.
To you, and your cat Snorri; I say welcome. Welcome to Roanoke, and all it is. Which is more than you might think at first. But realize one thing, you might be the questioning print hovering in the hands of officials, but print can only go so far. It is up to the young of the area to speak out and make their concerns known. Did anyone ask if the youth wanted a new Art Museum? Or perhaps a new shopping center along Franklin Rd.? No, it was just assumed they would slide right into the menial jobs of clerk, cashier, and "coffee bar attendant." There is your consideration. If they understand that because they do not speak out now, they lose their voice in the future - then change will occur. Until then, youth of Roanoke, you are all wage-slaves like me. Supplying a product at reasonable cost.
There lies your challenge, make them understand. And I too am coming, with no plans of leaving any time soon. There's far too much opportunity here than Roanoke itself realizes. I might be a transplant, but my roots are set.
Technorati tags: roanoke, editorial, newcomer, youth, change
9/15/05
It's Mayor Vs. Mayor... This SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY
roanoke.com - Commentary Stories -Mayor's irrelevant issues are the people's business
Hey, this is cool. I like Mayor Harris, even though now he reminds me of "Evil Spock" on Star Trek. He seems like a nice, fairly smart, decent kinda guy. Now, of course I don't know much about Fmr. Hizzoner Bowers, although I haven't heard much complaining about most of Roanoke's past leaders. Maybe just me. Maybe just the folks Ive been around, but no one has expressed to me the kind of general hatred and visible signs of destruction a place gets when it has a truly bad mayor. Take, for example, The Honorable David Dinkins.
From Wikipedia: " Dinkins' term was marked by polarizing events including the 1991 Crown Heights riots and the boycott of Korean groceries... In 1991, he signed a law which made it illegal for companies in New York to do business with companies in Ireland that discriminated against Catholics. "
Now thats a legacy. Now I met Hizzoner Dinkins once, and he's not a personally bad guy, but he was not up to tackling NYC. Very few people are really.
But it seems that Roanoke has been fairly lucky in its choices for mayor, none have left a true scar on the city. And no, I will not blame Mayor Harris for the AMWV, that was just bad all around. Its like playing spin the bottle with the finger of blame, it can rest anywhere - and be equally true.
Part of me wonders if this all has to do with the new beard Mayor Harris has grown, maybe he travelled to an alternate dimension or something.
While I do not disagree with Mayor Harris sentiment that business should be more vocal in city politics, I think that should be expanded. Everyone should be more vocal. I've noticed Roanoke seems to think theres something wrong with it, and it needs to be fixed, but no one knows what it is. Well, if you think you know, step up and say something. I believe the land selection for the AMWV should have been a public matter, as it was public land being handed over as well as being used for a public use. Yes, the AMWV is a private concern, but it is for public benifit, making it public space.
As would be any new store that opened in the old Heironymous building, or a new parking garage downtown. Part of the consternation about Victory Stadium is that it has not been put to a vote. Allow it on the ballot in the November elections, choose 4-5 options, and let the people choose. This way, they have only themselves to blame.
And let businesses do what they do, create. Create jobs, create income, producs, etc. etc.
And yes, I do think the Victory Stadium debate is rediculous. While I understand the tactical advantage a visiting team would feel looking down the field, up the mountain, and seeing the star - surely a dominating view. I say tear it down, and rebuild. If you want to do it in the same spot - be prepared to raise the ground up past flood levels, and be prepared to pay more in taxes for that. You heard me, pay more for what you want.
It's not terribly hard to reach accord on issues like this, you just have to find out what the public wants, realize your not going to make everyone happy, and move on from there. But you cannot rely on a poll, or even a council meeting for that, you don't get a representative slice of opinion for that, as odds are your going to wind up with opinions running one way, especially at a council meeting.
Anyway Roanoke, forget the WSLS & Roanoke Times polls - start calling for a referendum. Petition for a more open government, where you have more say. This way you can stop complaining when things don't go your particular way.
Thats my dos centavos.
Technorati tags: politics, roanoke, mayor, council
Hey, this is cool. I like Mayor Harris, even though now he reminds me of "Evil Spock" on Star Trek. He seems like a nice, fairly smart, decent kinda guy. Now, of course I don't know much about Fmr. Hizzoner Bowers, although I haven't heard much complaining about most of Roanoke's past leaders. Maybe just me. Maybe just the folks Ive been around, but no one has expressed to me the kind of general hatred and visible signs of destruction a place gets when it has a truly bad mayor. Take, for example, The Honorable David Dinkins.
From Wikipedia: " Dinkins' term was marked by polarizing events including the 1991 Crown Heights riots and the boycott of Korean groceries... In 1991, he signed a law which made it illegal for companies in New York to do business with companies in Ireland that discriminated against Catholics. "
Now thats a legacy. Now I met Hizzoner Dinkins once, and he's not a personally bad guy, but he was not up to tackling NYC. Very few people are really.
But it seems that Roanoke has been fairly lucky in its choices for mayor, none have left a true scar on the city. And no, I will not blame Mayor Harris for the AMWV, that was just bad all around. Its like playing spin the bottle with the finger of blame, it can rest anywhere - and be equally true.
Part of me wonders if this all has to do with the new beard Mayor Harris has grown, maybe he travelled to an alternate dimension or something.
While I do not disagree with Mayor Harris sentiment that business should be more vocal in city politics, I think that should be expanded. Everyone should be more vocal. I've noticed Roanoke seems to think theres something wrong with it, and it needs to be fixed, but no one knows what it is. Well, if you think you know, step up and say something. I believe the land selection for the AMWV should have been a public matter, as it was public land being handed over as well as being used for a public use. Yes, the AMWV is a private concern, but it is for public benifit, making it public space.
As would be any new store that opened in the old Heironymous building, or a new parking garage downtown. Part of the consternation about Victory Stadium is that it has not been put to a vote. Allow it on the ballot in the November elections, choose 4-5 options, and let the people choose. This way, they have only themselves to blame.
And let businesses do what they do, create. Create jobs, create income, producs, etc. etc.
And yes, I do think the Victory Stadium debate is rediculous. While I understand the tactical advantage a visiting team would feel looking down the field, up the mountain, and seeing the star - surely a dominating view. I say tear it down, and rebuild. If you want to do it in the same spot - be prepared to raise the ground up past flood levels, and be prepared to pay more in taxes for that. You heard me, pay more for what you want.
It's not terribly hard to reach accord on issues like this, you just have to find out what the public wants, realize your not going to make everyone happy, and move on from there. But you cannot rely on a poll, or even a council meeting for that, you don't get a representative slice of opinion for that, as odds are your going to wind up with opinions running one way, especially at a council meeting.
Anyway Roanoke, forget the WSLS & Roanoke Times polls - start calling for a referendum. Petition for a more open government, where you have more say. This way you can stop complaining when things don't go your particular way.
Thats my dos centavos.
Technorati tags: politics, roanoke, mayor, council
9/12/05
Oooh kay....
So where is Roanoke.com? Perhaps they imploded...
Unfortunately, I don't really have much time today to grab the paper. So Im gonna have to wing this one.
Last night I met up with Rhett for the Roanoke Firefighters/9-11 memorial service. It was nice, although I was a bit suprised. Being that it was 9/11, I had been turning most of my thoughts to the 343 FDNY who fell in the towers, along with the 8 (if I remember) who fell here in Roanoke.
Not once did I think of NOLA. Or anywhere along the gulf. As the Firefighter who led the memorial yesterday said - there are 26,000 first responders, fire fighters, and EMT's who could have been effected by Katrina. Numbers for anything else have not come in yet, but thats a total of 26,000 overall.
think.
Unfortunately, I don't really have much time today to grab the paper. So Im gonna have to wing this one.
Last night I met up with Rhett for the Roanoke Firefighters/9-11 memorial service. It was nice, although I was a bit suprised. Being that it was 9/11, I had been turning most of my thoughts to the 343 FDNY who fell in the towers, along with the 8 (if I remember) who fell here in Roanoke.
Not once did I think of NOLA. Or anywhere along the gulf. As the Firefighter who led the memorial yesterday said - there are 26,000 first responders, fire fighters, and EMT's who could have been effected by Katrina. Numbers for anything else have not come in yet, but thats a total of 26,000 overall.
think.
9/11/05
News from The Roanoke Times -Museum breaks ground in symbolic ceremony
WDBJ's coverage.
WSLS's coverage.
Note to all reporting this story: You can't have "Standing Room Only" when your outdoors, in an unrestricted space.
And so begins the "Crack by the Track" saga. I could lambast the VIP's because they are wrong, but I won't. You know what I would say anyway. But the first, easiest, and most visable sign of trouble: They had Mimes.
This is Roanoke people. Yes we had the NASCAR Ballet, and the Wall Ballet, and sometimes we do get a bit nutty with things. But under no circumstances are Mimes acceptable. And these "living paintings"? Just creepy. Nice to see they blew money to have the dirt trucked in like that, now when does construction start?
Oh there will be more.. So much more.. but its Sunday, 9/11.
We have other, more important things to worry about.
WSLS's coverage.
Note to all reporting this story: You can't have "Standing Room Only" when your outdoors, in an unrestricted space.
And so begins the "Crack by the Track" saga. I could lambast the VIP's because they are wrong, but I won't. You know what I would say anyway. But the first, easiest, and most visable sign of trouble: They had Mimes.
This is Roanoke people. Yes we had the NASCAR Ballet, and the Wall Ballet, and sometimes we do get a bit nutty with things. But under no circumstances are Mimes acceptable. And these "living paintings"? Just creepy. Nice to see they blew money to have the dirt trucked in like that, now when does construction start?
Oh there will be more.. So much more.. but its Sunday, 9/11.
We have other, more important things to worry about.
9/10/05
Morning all...
If you have Weatherbug, select the Science Museum downtown as your source, and check out the great shots of the Hotel Roanoke they have had lately.
Important Market Alert! Butternut Squash have made their appearance at the market. That means fall is upon us. Ignore those pumpkins at Kroger - theyre from Mexico, and don't realize how early they are. The Squash are right on time though. Once we settle into days that reach the mid-70's or less and nights in the 50s or lower, I'll post a recipie I have for Butternut Squash Soup, and it is heaven.
Maybe, just maybe - I'll even post my recipie for my Pumpkin Soup made in the pumpkin itself. You want to talk about a fancy presentation.
A word on why I am not protesting at the AMWV today. There's no point to it. You can't effectively protest a belief. And thats what it is, its the belief that the AMWV will save downtown (from what I dont know) and bring Roanoke to national acclaim. Thats like protesting someone who believes hot dogs are evil, it serves no purpose other than wasting your time. They are obviously delusional, and probably scary. Now if someone from the AMWV wanted a reasonable sit-down to discuss the thing, then maybe there would be a point to it. But thats not protesting, thats lobbying.
But rest assured gentle readers that I am, and will remain on, this case.
In other news, there is an article in todays paper about kids starting Lemonade stands to raise money for the hurricane victims. Which is cool, good kids. But back when I was a Lemonade Czar, we did it for the money - and we did it all summer. At halloween we went around for candy with our UNICEF cans, little sugar for us and some money for the kids. Between Halloween and Thanksgiving we were given two little cans for UNICEF and we filled them as best we could. That was really it for fundraising.
Local fundraising was done in a most interesting manner. We got a box of 12 chocolate bars, which always smelled lightly of chocolate and heavily of cardboard. It was a long box, as the bars were laid out 2 high. You (or an adult with a strong knee) would crack the box in half, pull out the cardboard handle and off you went. House to house, door to door hocking your chocolate wares. Of course you always had one yourself (although I know several people who had more than just one.) It was a quarter-pound of chocolate for a buck, with or without nuts. At the beginning of the fundrasier, you were asked how many boxes you wanted. Which is a really inappropriate question to ask a kid when chocolate is involved. Plus - this was after we had looked at the prize catalog. Which made it twice as bad. I know kids who would take 30 boxes of chocolate, at 12 bars a box, total of 360 bars of chocolate, hoping for the Big Kahuna prize on the back of the catalog, usually a bike or tv or something like that.
And when it was all over, they would bring back 26 boxes. No one ever got the big prizes, I frankly don't ever remember getting any prizes. Now they did have low level prizes, but I probably did not want them.
How many skull rings can one boy own?
Anyway - thats today.. for now..
Important Market Alert! Butternut Squash have made their appearance at the market. That means fall is upon us. Ignore those pumpkins at Kroger - theyre from Mexico, and don't realize how early they are. The Squash are right on time though. Once we settle into days that reach the mid-70's or less and nights in the 50s or lower, I'll post a recipie I have for Butternut Squash Soup, and it is heaven.
Maybe, just maybe - I'll even post my recipie for my Pumpkin Soup made in the pumpkin itself. You want to talk about a fancy presentation.
A word on why I am not protesting at the AMWV today. There's no point to it. You can't effectively protest a belief. And thats what it is, its the belief that the AMWV will save downtown (from what I dont know) and bring Roanoke to national acclaim. Thats like protesting someone who believes hot dogs are evil, it serves no purpose other than wasting your time. They are obviously delusional, and probably scary. Now if someone from the AMWV wanted a reasonable sit-down to discuss the thing, then maybe there would be a point to it. But thats not protesting, thats lobbying.
But rest assured gentle readers that I am, and will remain on, this case.
In other news, there is an article in todays paper about kids starting Lemonade stands to raise money for the hurricane victims. Which is cool, good kids. But back when I was a Lemonade Czar, we did it for the money - and we did it all summer. At halloween we went around for candy with our UNICEF cans, little sugar for us and some money for the kids. Between Halloween and Thanksgiving we were given two little cans for UNICEF and we filled them as best we could. That was really it for fundraising.
Local fundraising was done in a most interesting manner. We got a box of 12 chocolate bars, which always smelled lightly of chocolate and heavily of cardboard. It was a long box, as the bars were laid out 2 high. You (or an adult with a strong knee) would crack the box in half, pull out the cardboard handle and off you went. House to house, door to door hocking your chocolate wares. Of course you always had one yourself (although I know several people who had more than just one.) It was a quarter-pound of chocolate for a buck, with or without nuts. At the beginning of the fundrasier, you were asked how many boxes you wanted. Which is a really inappropriate question to ask a kid when chocolate is involved. Plus - this was after we had looked at the prize catalog. Which made it twice as bad. I know kids who would take 30 boxes of chocolate, at 12 bars a box, total of 360 bars of chocolate, hoping for the Big Kahuna prize on the back of the catalog, usually a bike or tv or something like that.
And when it was all over, they would bring back 26 boxes. No one ever got the big prizes, I frankly don't ever remember getting any prizes. Now they did have low level prizes, but I probably did not want them.
How many skull rings can one boy own?
Anyway - thats today.. for now..
9/9/05
Just another day in Roanoke: Job Posting #1:
Just another day in Roanoke: Job Posting #1:: "Job Posting #1:
Yes, you heard right - Im doing a job posting for a friend. Attention cooks, chefs, waitresses, and other foodservice types in Roanoke.
We are looking for about 4 'dietary aides'. This position is full time or part-time, full time gets benefits after 90 days. Pretty good bene's too I understand. Shifts are 5am-2pm, 6am-3pm, 12pm-8pm, or 3pm-9pm(ish). There is opportunity for overtime, right now theres alot of opportunity for overtime. It's a good place to work, your providing a service which you can feel good about. Im not going to talk about pay because right now thats a fluid situation. But it aint bad.
If you are interested, e-mail Roanoke.FoundATgmail`com. Or call Avante @ Roanoke (540) 345-8139, and ask for the dietary manager.
Slackers, unmotivated-types, and those who can't follow direction need not apply."
Yes, you heard right - Im doing a job posting for a friend. Attention cooks, chefs, waitresses, and other foodservice types in Roanoke.
We are looking for about 4 'dietary aides'. This position is full time or part-time, full time gets benefits after 90 days. Pretty good bene's too I understand. Shifts are 5am-2pm, 6am-3pm, 12pm-8pm, or 3pm-9pm(ish). There is opportunity for overtime, right now theres alot of opportunity for overtime. It's a good place to work, your providing a service which you can feel good about. Im not going to talk about pay because right now thats a fluid situation. But it aint bad.
If you are interested, e-mail Roanoke.FoundATgmail`com. Or call Avante @ Roanoke (540) 345-8139, and ask for the dietary manager.
Slackers, unmotivated-types, and those who can't follow direction need not apply."
News from The Roanoke Times - Old eyes fail to see a circus' fleas
News from The Roanoke Times - Old eyes fail to see a circus' fleas: "Q: Why did they turn down the IMAX theater that had been planned for the new art museum?
-Gene Calvert, Roanoke County
A: 'I wish we could have it,' said Heywood Fralin, president of the Art Museum of Western Virginia's board of directors. 'I think everybody would love to have an IMAX theater.'
Removing it from the plans was a very tough decision, he said, but one with which most everyone involved agreed in the end.
'It just added so much to the cost that it was not feasible to do it,' he said, referring to both the construction costs and the eventual expense of operating the theater. 'It was risky to jeopardize the operation of the art museum if the IMAX was not cost-effective.'
The population of the Roanoke area is slightly under the minimum population recommended for an IMAX theater, he said. In other words: If they built it, we might come, but there wouldn't be enough of us to make a go of it.
Fralin noted that the architect's plan would allow an IMAX theater to be added in the future if the situation changed. But he felt that was unlikely to happen."
Im calling shennanigans. BIG ones too.
-Gene Calvert, Roanoke County
A: 'I wish we could have it,' said Heywood Fralin, president of the Art Museum of Western Virginia's board of directors. 'I think everybody would love to have an IMAX theater.'
Removing it from the plans was a very tough decision, he said, but one with which most everyone involved agreed in the end.
'It just added so much to the cost that it was not feasible to do it,' he said, referring to both the construction costs and the eventual expense of operating the theater. 'It was risky to jeopardize the operation of the art museum if the IMAX was not cost-effective.'
The population of the Roanoke area is slightly under the minimum population recommended for an IMAX theater, he said. In other words: If they built it, we might come, but there wouldn't be enough of us to make a go of it.
Fralin noted that the architect's plan would allow an IMAX theater to be added in the future if the situation changed. But he felt that was unlikely to happen."
Im calling shennanigans. BIG ones too.
News from The Roanoke Times -Roanoke celebrates Design '79
"Ewert said he's concerned that Roanoke isn't focused on building on the successes of what's already here."
"There is no one thing that is going to save Roanoke," he said..."
Could it be, just perhaps....
ROANOKE DOES NOT NEED SAVING, EXCEPT FROM THOSE WHO THINK IT DOES
"There is no one thing that is going to save Roanoke," he said..."
Could it be, just perhaps....
ROANOKE DOES NOT NEED SAVING, EXCEPT FROM THOSE WHO THINK IT DOES
roanoke.com - Extra stories - Art museum to break ground Saturday
roanoke.com - Extra stories - Art museum to break ground Saturday
The AMWV attempts to stoop down to the common mans level.
It should be interesting to see all these "art types" staring down their noses at the gaggle of children screaming on the moon bounce as they try to debate the archetypical juxtaposition of the AMWV to NYC.
AMWV is to Roanoke as Worlds Fair Grounds in Flushing Meadows is to NYC.
Nice to see, but empty as sin.
The AMWV attempts to stoop down to the common mans level.
It should be interesting to see all these "art types" staring down their noses at the gaggle of children screaming on the moon bounce as they try to debate the archetypical juxtaposition of the AMWV to NYC.
AMWV is to Roanoke as Worlds Fair Grounds in Flushing Meadows is to NYC.
Nice to see, but empty as sin.
9/8/05
WSLS.com | Former Roanoke city manager advises on the Star City's future
WSLS.com | Former Roanoke city manager advises on the Star City's future: "'Authenticity is the key. You can't be somebody else, but you can be yourself and build on yourself,' he said. "
Remember, its this Saturday - the groundbreaking for the Crack by the Tracks.
If thats not building on somebody else, I dont know what is.
Remember, its this Saturday - the groundbreaking for the Crack by the Tracks.
If thats not building on somebody else, I dont know what is.
Editorials from The Roanoke Times -So, where's the fire on Station No. 1?
"And downtown will keep historic Station No. 1 in operation, too. The one built in 1906 for horse-drawn fire equipment. The one too small to accommodate a modern pumper truck. The one, consequently, that holds only a ladder truck -- which would come in handy, to be sure, for rescuing people should an office building catch on fire, but which could not put water on the blaze."
Hey, whose got the brains over there that you can't understand the value of having a Ladder be the first responding truck in a high rise fire?
Water won't evacuate people from the upper floors. Which in the panic and chaos of a high-rise fire is a helpful thing.
But way to go RT, another poorly thought out editorial to fuel my morning.
Thanks!
Hey, whose got the brains over there that you can't understand the value of having a Ladder be the first responding truck in a high rise fire?
Water won't evacuate people from the upper floors. Which in the panic and chaos of a high-rise fire is a helpful thing.
But way to go RT, another poorly thought out editorial to fuel my morning.
Thanks!
9/7/05
Job Posting #1:
Yes, you heard right - Im doing a job posting for a friend. Attention cooks, chefs, waitresses, and other foodservice types in Roanoke.
We are looking for about 4 "dietary aides". This position is full time or part-time, full time gets benefits after 90 days. Pretty good bene's too I understand. Shifts are 5am-2pm, 6am-3pm, 12pm-8pm, or 3pm-9pm(ish). There is opportunity for overtime, right now theres alot of opportunity for overtime. It's a good place to work, your providing a service which you can feel good about. Im not going to talk about pay because right now thats a fluid situation. But it aint bad.
If you are interested, e-mail Roanoke.FoundATgmail`com. Or call Avante @ Roanoke (540) 345-8139, and ask for the dietary manager.
Slackers, unmotivated-types, and those who can't follow direction need not apply.
We are looking for about 4 "dietary aides". This position is full time or part-time, full time gets benefits after 90 days. Pretty good bene's too I understand. Shifts are 5am-2pm, 6am-3pm, 12pm-8pm, or 3pm-9pm(ish). There is opportunity for overtime, right now theres alot of opportunity for overtime. It's a good place to work, your providing a service which you can feel good about. Im not going to talk about pay because right now thats a fluid situation. But it aint bad.
If you are interested, e-mail Roanoke.FoundATgmail`com. Or call Avante @ Roanoke (540) 345-8139, and ask for the dietary manager.
Slackers, unmotivated-types, and those who can't follow direction need not apply.
9/6/05
Just a note:
Just wanted to let you all know that due to this past weekend being such a nightmare, I was not able to get a new page up on Forgotten-Roanoke.com, but rest assured - this weekend there will be an update to the website.
Might even be something special on the blog too. If I were you I'd keep an eye on both.
Just an idea.
Might even be something special on the blog too. If I were you I'd keep an eye on both.
Just an idea.
News from The Roanoke Times - Disgust and delight over design
"'I think they’ll grow to love it as it comes out of the ground. It’s a great thing for the city.'"
No, its not the World's Largest Potato, its that friggin Art Museum again.
RT is apparently now doing polls every day, which mean nothing really - its supposed to show how Roanoke thinks of projects.
All its showing is exactly everything they had reported on previously.
These polls mean nothing really, and for 34 percent of respondents to not even be familiar with the AMWV in general, the results are even less valid.
I would like to see the script for this poll, as I have a feeling it was somewhat leading in the layout.
Oh - and a 4% margin of error? Why?
From the article: "Marybeth Romeo seemed equally conflicted. When the pollster called about the design, "I think I said it was atrocious," the substitute school teacher recalled. Still, "I’m glad they’re doing it," she said. "I’d rather have an ugly art museum than no art museum at all."
Where did they get the idea that if the museum was not built, the current AMWV would close? Or do they just not realize we HAVE a museum?
Still predicting disaster. oh yes I am - with a 3% tub of margerine.
No, its not the World's Largest Potato, its that friggin Art Museum again.
RT is apparently now doing polls every day, which mean nothing really - its supposed to show how Roanoke thinks of projects.
All its showing is exactly everything they had reported on previously.
These polls mean nothing really, and for 34 percent of respondents to not even be familiar with the AMWV in general, the results are even less valid.
I would like to see the script for this poll, as I have a feeling it was somewhat leading in the layout.
Oh - and a 4% margin of error? Why?
From the article: "Marybeth Romeo seemed equally conflicted. When the pollster called about the design, "I think I said it was atrocious," the substitute school teacher recalled. Still, "I’m glad they’re doing it," she said. "I’d rather have an ugly art museum than no art museum at all."
Where did they get the idea that if the museum was not built, the current AMWV would close? Or do they just not realize we HAVE a museum?
Still predicting disaster. oh yes I am - with a 3% tub of margerine.
9/5/05
News from The Roanoke Times -Roanoke considers historic firehouse
On Fire Station #1:
"Grigsby found a newspaper article recently about a city discussion to replace some of the same older stations. The article appeared on Dec. 11, 1963.
'And how long ago was that?' he said. 'I'll stake my job on this,' Grigsby said. 'This will work.'"
Never stake your job on anything, always a bad move. Especially when it comes to public will. Even less of a good idea when private commercial ventures are involved. It is truly not up to the city to decide this one, this rests in the hands of the businesses that are currently served by Station #1, because if they see a decline in response time after the consolidation, the incentive to continue business in downtown Roanoke is less.
"Grigsby found a newspaper article recently about a city discussion to replace some of the same older stations. The article appeared on Dec. 11, 1963.
'And how long ago was that?' he said. 'I'll stake my job on this,' Grigsby said. 'This will work.'"
Never stake your job on anything, always a bad move. Especially when it comes to public will. Even less of a good idea when private commercial ventures are involved. It is truly not up to the city to decide this one, this rests in the hands of the businesses that are currently served by Station #1, because if they see a decline in response time after the consolidation, the incentive to continue business in downtown Roanoke is less.
9/1/05
Commentary on Roanoke.com
Looks like Roanoke.com is changing again. We now have our own url: blogs.roanoke.com which is nice and all, but now features RT-online blogs, above our (the suppliers of said blogs) listings.
Now I realize this is a wee bit nit-picky, but we bloggers have been pretty productive in terms of pumping out product. Now the Times, as it has every right to do, places 2 of its own blogs above ours. Thats not a big deal, what I personally feel is a big deal is the placement of the 2 Times blogs - on top is one about some guy who wants to lose weight.
Yippie.
The 2nd, and far more important (at least IMAO) is this one: "The Roanoke Times has sent staff writer John Cramer and photographer Kyle Green to follow Southwest Virginians who left the area to help with Hurricane Katrina rescue efforts. Our hope is to follow these local people and to show what they're doing to help people in hurricane-damaged areas. Read their blog"
Now this is the power of blogging taken the right way. And at a time like this, I think its a wee bit more important than some guy trying to lose weight. Want to lose weight? Go to New Orleans and help out - live on one MRE a day, help run evacuations while trying to breathe under oppressive heat and humidity, enhanced by a smell akin to that of a NYC Subway station on the worst day of the year.
Seems a wee bit more important, lifewise, to me.
In other news, September 10th is rapidly approaching. Why its just a week from this Saturday! What are you doing that day?
Feel like taking part in a goofy little funtime cavalcade of futility ?
keep your eyes open.. things are about to get silly in Roanoke.
Now I realize this is a wee bit nit-picky, but we bloggers have been pretty productive in terms of pumping out product. Now the Times, as it has every right to do, places 2 of its own blogs above ours. Thats not a big deal, what I personally feel is a big deal is the placement of the 2 Times blogs - on top is one about some guy who wants to lose weight.
Yippie.
The 2nd, and far more important (at least IMAO) is this one: "The Roanoke Times has sent staff writer John Cramer and photographer Kyle Green to follow Southwest Virginians who left the area to help with Hurricane Katrina rescue efforts. Our hope is to follow these local people and to show what they're doing to help people in hurricane-damaged areas. Read their blog"
Now this is the power of blogging taken the right way. And at a time like this, I think its a wee bit more important than some guy trying to lose weight. Want to lose weight? Go to New Orleans and help out - live on one MRE a day, help run evacuations while trying to breathe under oppressive heat and humidity, enhanced by a smell akin to that of a NYC Subway station on the worst day of the year.
Seems a wee bit more important, lifewise, to me.
In other news, September 10th is rapidly approaching. Why its just a week from this Saturday! What are you doing that day?
Feel like taking part in a goofy little funtime cavalcade of futility ?
keep your eyes open.. things are about to get silly in Roanoke.
roanoke.com - Commentary Stories -History, efficiency, safety and cost argue for saving Fire Station No. 1
This ones for Rhett.
And heres a follow up I had not previously thought of: Downtown is in the process of gaining residents. With condos and apartments being built in some of the older buildings, if I remember - the current estimate of people living downtown will be roughly 3-400 by years end. Next year it could be double that. Your going to ask these people to wait 8-10 minutes for a truck to scramble from Elm and make its way downtown?
Lack of a quicker response time might make downtown a less attractive place to live.
Just a thought.
Allegedly 9 days to the groundbreaking for the AMWV. Don't think I've forgotten.
Don't worry, its coming.
Oh, and after we have seen what happened in New Orleans, a group of friends were talking about the flood of 85 again. Considering this is going to be the 20th anniversary of the flood come Nov. I have to ask, think the AMWV would survive it?
Heres a look at the current location of the AMWV, back in 85, courtesy of Tommy Firebaugh.
And heres a follow up I had not previously thought of: Downtown is in the process of gaining residents. With condos and apartments being built in some of the older buildings, if I remember - the current estimate of people living downtown will be roughly 3-400 by years end. Next year it could be double that. Your going to ask these people to wait 8-10 minutes for a truck to scramble from Elm and make its way downtown?
Lack of a quicker response time might make downtown a less attractive place to live.
Just a thought.
Allegedly 9 days to the groundbreaking for the AMWV. Don't think I've forgotten.
Don't worry, its coming.
Oh, and after we have seen what happened in New Orleans, a group of friends were talking about the flood of 85 again. Considering this is going to be the 20th anniversary of the flood come Nov. I have to ask, think the AMWV would survive it?
Heres a look at the current location of the AMWV, back in 85, courtesy of Tommy Firebaugh.
8/31/05
Just a little notice, all your floodzones are belong to us.
ROANOKE, VA - Construction of Phase I of the Roanoke River Flood
Reduction Project is scheduled to begin soon after Labor Day, and
residents can expect to see major tree clearing, digging and
re-landscaping in the effected areas.
The Army Corps of Engineers awarded the project to Branch Highways,
Inc., which was issued a Notice to Proceed Monday. The project will
include:
• Creating four bench cuts along the river from 9th Street to
Bennington Street (Wastewater Treatment Plant),
• Developing 900 linear feet of recreational trail from Jefferson
Street to Reserve Avenue,
• Clearing and snagging,
• Installing rip rap around the pedestrian bridge, and
• Landscaping the bench cuts.
Bench cutting, changing the slope of the river banks, lowers the
height of the river by widening it. In order to create the bench
cuts, all trees and vegetation along the river's edge must be
removed, said Khadija Abdur-Rahman, civil engineer for the City of
Roanoke.
Replanting will immediately follow the excavation to restore
vegetation in these areas.
The project's first activity will be the clearing and snagging of
13th Street off of Tayloe Avenue in preparation for the first bench
cut.
"This project will reduce the frequency and impact of flooding from
the Roanoke River that affects so many residences and businesses,"
said Abdur-Rahman. "We are pleased to be moving forward on this
important project."
Reduction Project is scheduled to begin soon after Labor Day, and
residents can expect to see major tree clearing, digging and
re-landscaping in the effected areas.
The Army Corps of Engineers awarded the project to Branch Highways,
Inc., which was issued a Notice to Proceed Monday. The project will
include:
• Creating four bench cuts along the river from 9th Street to
Bennington Street (Wastewater Treatment Plant),
• Developing 900 linear feet of recreational trail from Jefferson
Street to Reserve Avenue,
• Clearing and snagging,
• Installing rip rap around the pedestrian bridge, and
• Landscaping the bench cuts.
Bench cutting, changing the slope of the river banks, lowers the
height of the river by widening it. In order to create the bench
cuts, all trees and vegetation along the river's edge must be
removed, said Khadija Abdur-Rahman, civil engineer for the City of
Roanoke.
Replanting will immediately follow the excavation to restore
vegetation in these areas.
The project's first activity will be the clearing and snagging of
13th Street off of Tayloe Avenue in preparation for the first bench
cut.
"This project will reduce the frequency and impact of flooding from
the Roanoke River that affects so many residences and businesses,"
said Abdur-Rahman. "We are pleased to be moving forward on this
important project."
Too much is happening lately
Between the Hurricane, there have been 2 deaths which touched me personally this past weekend, and work - I don't have much to say right now.
So expect a light week, although Im still going to try to get a page up at Forgotten-Roanoke for the weekend. I will let you know when that happens.
Although kudos to Q99's Dick and Dave - allready planning a fundraiser for the victims of Katrina. Truly honorable, Ronin.
So expect a light week, although Im still going to try to get a page up at Forgotten-Roanoke for the weekend. I will let you know when that happens.
Although kudos to Q99's Dick and Dave - allready planning a fundraiser for the victims of Katrina. Truly honorable, Ronin.
8/30/05
CBS 2: Explaining Doppler 2 Million
CBS 2: Explaining Doppler 2 Million
Uhhh.. Jaime? Oh Mark?.. I think you have some competition in the ViPIR field.
2 million.. thats alot of millions.
Uhhh.. Jaime? Oh Mark?.. I think you have some competition in the ViPIR field.
2 million.. thats alot of millions.
News from The Roanoke Times -Carolina Oak II may replace historic fallen tree
To which I say: bravo. And without a doubt Im sure some punks will come and mess with it, because thats what they do. And someday a car might hit it, because people tend not to pay attention to these things when they are small. And someone might actually even attempt to steal the tree itself, because it seems par for the course.
But thats ok, we've got plenty of trees. And eventually, someone gonna get their ass kicked for messing with it - and thats when the tree will be fully part of Roanoke. When we protect it like family.
Back 50 years ago, it was just a tree in the road till the city came and tried to take it out. Then it became family.
It had been hit by drunk and careless drivers before on a few occasions, but it stood - so it was no big deal. But when they tried to take it away, thats when it became a big deal.
Go and buy about 5 white oaks Roanoke Parks and Rec - you might need them before this tree takes root in our family.
But thats ok, we've got plenty of trees. And eventually, someone gonna get their ass kicked for messing with it - and thats when the tree will be fully part of Roanoke. When we protect it like family.
Back 50 years ago, it was just a tree in the road till the city came and tried to take it out. Then it became family.
It had been hit by drunk and careless drivers before on a few occasions, but it stood - so it was no big deal. But when they tried to take it away, thats when it became a big deal.
Go and buy about 5 white oaks Roanoke Parks and Rec - you might need them before this tree takes root in our family.
Lewis-Gale Medical Center to buy Lewis-Gale Clinic
Lewis-Gale Medical Center to buy Lewis-Gale Clinic
Well this is kinda wild. What always confused me was having both the L-G Med Center and the L-G Clinic, and neither was affiliated with the other.
The operational layouts of the two were totally different. L-G Med Center is a traditional hospital group, while the Clinic was a doctor-owned, group pratice basically.
Makes me wonder how this will affect the work the Clinic does on a daily basis.
Well this is kinda wild. What always confused me was having both the L-G Med Center and the L-G Clinic, and neither was affiliated with the other.
The operational layouts of the two were totally different. L-G Med Center is a traditional hospital group, while the Clinic was a doctor-owned, group pratice basically.
Makes me wonder how this will affect the work the Clinic does on a daily basis.
8/28/05
Things got interesting
There will be a time when I will discuss all that happened this weekend, and yes I know its only Sunday.
Pray for all those in New Orleans, and pray we can keep our memories of that city after it's been wrung dry. I fear that might be all we have left.
Pray for all those in New Orleans, and pray we can keep our memories of that city after it's been wrung dry. I fear that might be all we have left.
American Red Cross - Preparing Communities for Emergencies and Keeping People Safe - Preparedness
American Red Cross - Preparing Communities for Emergencies and Keeping People Safe - Preparedness
now would be a good time to donate, if you feel so inclined.
Otherwise, pray a lot.
now would be a good time to donate, if you feel so inclined.
Otherwise, pray a lot.
Meant to post about this yesterday
roanoke.com - Commentary Stories -Time once stood for August musings
Beautifully written piece, and so damned true.
Beautifully written piece, and so damned true.
roanoke.com - Business Stories -Downtown Roanoke wine shop to close
Now I know most people could give a rats patootie about the business section.
I read it religiously, and exactly for moments like this. Not only is Lee & Edwards closing (eventually - go buy something and thank these people for the hard work they put into it.) but quite a few things have closed suddenly.
JaMar on Grandin, a wonderful bakery which started out (I believe) in the Heironymous Building downtown before moving to it's current Grandin location, has closed. Now granted - it was an interesting set up. If you havent been, let me explain - Think of a supermarket, stripped empty of its shelving and cases. Just a giant empty building. Well someone came up with the brilliant idea to make that building a "open" mini-mall. So you walked in, and to your left was JaMar - to the back was a florist of high caliber - and to the right was (recently installed) a Bank. I think I remember seeing a bunch of wine there - but that might be my imagination.
JaMar was simple - a few tables, a few display cases, and simple half walls separating the public space from the kitchen space. It was a fairly large kitchen space at that. Im sure that in the mornings - when the doors would first open, the smell of baked goods that would pummel you as you walked in the door would be like heaven.
Also closed, Lars Hansson's Big and Tall at Crossroads. A store that truly lived up to its name. It was a place where Yao Ming and Shaq would be able to find clothing and footwear that fit them. And it's not easy finding a place that caters to people that large. I personally run in the 1XLT to 2XLT range myself - depending on the clothing, and growing up - I can remember having to shop at a small store instead of being able to go to the mall to get my clothes. Plus, the one I went to would do alterations on most pieces, so I was always assured a great fit. But it was small, in both selection and size. I was recently over by Mr. Hansson's store, and did some window shopping. I was amazed at the size of the place. But thats just me.
One last note about Lee & Edwards. I recently took a stroll through to see what was left, this was about 2 weeks ago. And boy did they have alot of wine at great prices. Not to mention the sheer amount of beer, ale, and stouts they still had. But my eyes lit up when I saw the "wine cellar." Some great, great vintages - some ultra big magnums (one equalling 150 bottles of Champange), and some really curious wines.
Now I am not a big wine buff, I like a good Syrah but not much else. Its a personal quirk. However, Tomahawk Vineyards makes a KILLER Earl of Chatham Meade. If you can find it, grab it and enjoy - its the closest to the true mead I had when I was in Ireland. Also of interest, but I have not yet had the chance to try it, are the Peaks of Otter Vineyards fruit wines. Just an interesting concept, a fruit wine. I know I had an applewine (No, not talking the Boone's Farms either) a few years back at the Smith Mountain Lake Wine Festival, but damned if I can remember who created it.
If you are not a wine person - there are options out there for you. I am not a wine person, Cabernet - Bordeaux - Burgundy, they just fail to interest me. I love to cook with them though. But the smaller, different wines fascinate me.
If anyone has a bottle of Gewurztraminer or Reisling they are sick of seeing, drop a line. Ive been curious about them.
Forgotten-Roanoke will update later in the day. Time to walk the dogs, get the paper, and reflect on the loss of friends.
I read it religiously, and exactly for moments like this. Not only is Lee & Edwards closing (eventually - go buy something and thank these people for the hard work they put into it.) but quite a few things have closed suddenly.
JaMar on Grandin, a wonderful bakery which started out (I believe) in the Heironymous Building downtown before moving to it's current Grandin location, has closed. Now granted - it was an interesting set up. If you havent been, let me explain - Think of a supermarket, stripped empty of its shelving and cases. Just a giant empty building. Well someone came up with the brilliant idea to make that building a "open" mini-mall. So you walked in, and to your left was JaMar - to the back was a florist of high caliber - and to the right was (recently installed) a Bank. I think I remember seeing a bunch of wine there - but that might be my imagination.
JaMar was simple - a few tables, a few display cases, and simple half walls separating the public space from the kitchen space. It was a fairly large kitchen space at that. Im sure that in the mornings - when the doors would first open, the smell of baked goods that would pummel you as you walked in the door would be like heaven.
Also closed, Lars Hansson's Big and Tall at Crossroads. A store that truly lived up to its name. It was a place where Yao Ming and Shaq would be able to find clothing and footwear that fit them. And it's not easy finding a place that caters to people that large. I personally run in the 1XLT to 2XLT range myself - depending on the clothing, and growing up - I can remember having to shop at a small store instead of being able to go to the mall to get my clothes. Plus, the one I went to would do alterations on most pieces, so I was always assured a great fit. But it was small, in both selection and size. I was recently over by Mr. Hansson's store, and did some window shopping. I was amazed at the size of the place. But thats just me.
One last note about Lee & Edwards. I recently took a stroll through to see what was left, this was about 2 weeks ago. And boy did they have alot of wine at great prices. Not to mention the sheer amount of beer, ale, and stouts they still had. But my eyes lit up when I saw the "wine cellar." Some great, great vintages - some ultra big magnums (one equalling 150 bottles of Champange), and some really curious wines.
Now I am not a big wine buff, I like a good Syrah but not much else. Its a personal quirk. However, Tomahawk Vineyards makes a KILLER Earl of Chatham Meade. If you can find it, grab it and enjoy - its the closest to the true mead I had when I was in Ireland. Also of interest, but I have not yet had the chance to try it, are the Peaks of Otter Vineyards fruit wines. Just an interesting concept, a fruit wine. I know I had an applewine (No, not talking the Boone's Farms either) a few years back at the Smith Mountain Lake Wine Festival, but damned if I can remember who created it.
If you are not a wine person - there are options out there for you. I am not a wine person, Cabernet - Bordeaux - Burgundy, they just fail to interest me. I love to cook with them though. But the smaller, different wines fascinate me.
If anyone has a bottle of Gewurztraminer or Reisling they are sick of seeing, drop a line. Ive been curious about them.
Forgotten-Roanoke will update later in the day. Time to walk the dogs, get the paper, and reflect on the loss of friends.
News from The Roanoke Times -200-year-old landmark falls in Roanoke
Damn this sucks twice.
And we had just shown the tree to some out of town friends as part of the "Move to Roanoke" grand tour.
Louis Hudson has an idea to carve the tree up into mementos of some sort.
I think thats perfect. I personally would like to see the Roanoke Star with a image of the tree in the middle of it. Something about 6 inches large, and with all the wood from the tree - there might just be enough for everyone in Roanoke to get one.
However, if you live on Carolina Ave. you should get one larger - maybe 12 inches.
They could even use it as an opportunity to raise funds for the Roanoke City Horticultural program - you know, the ones who put the nice landscaping everywhere. Plus, some of the funds could be used to REPLANT A TREE there, where the mighty has fallen.
I can tell you this much, if Roanke thinks its going to pave that spot over, they are going to have some serious issues - I have a feeling alot of people want a tree replanted.
I wonder if we will be meeting a 21st Century Jack Main.
Godspeed, good tree.
And we had just shown the tree to some out of town friends as part of the "Move to Roanoke" grand tour.
Louis Hudson has an idea to carve the tree up into mementos of some sort.
I think thats perfect. I personally would like to see the Roanoke Star with a image of the tree in the middle of it. Something about 6 inches large, and with all the wood from the tree - there might just be enough for everyone in Roanoke to get one.
However, if you live on Carolina Ave. you should get one larger - maybe 12 inches.
They could even use it as an opportunity to raise funds for the Roanoke City Horticultural program - you know, the ones who put the nice landscaping everywhere. Plus, some of the funds could be used to REPLANT A TREE there, where the mighty has fallen.
I can tell you this much, if Roanke thinks its going to pave that spot over, they are going to have some serious issues - I have a feeling alot of people want a tree replanted.
I wonder if we will be meeting a 21st Century Jack Main.
Godspeed, good tree.
8/27/05
Breaking news from The Roanoke Times -Landmark tree collapses
This just sucks.
replant the damn thing.
replant the damn thing.
8/26/05
Confluence of design?
I want to know who is responsible for this:
Katrina is heading right for us, apparently.
And I count about 5 tracks on the spaghetti map that plant themselves either in Roanoke, or near enough to cause worry.
Again, I want to know who is setting this up. You don't have a hurricane conviently pop into SW Virginia just as an article on the finalization of the temporary repairs to Victory Stadium runs.
Even the Kevin Myatt column is hurricane happy, reminding us of last years 'thrill-a-minute' hurricanes.
Are we being set up for the "unplanned" demolition of Victory Stadium? Could Katrina be the one to put the nail in the coffin, after only one game of the season is played there? Or are there higher powers at work, telling us to forget the Stadium allready and cut out the bickering before our toys get taken away.
Just a breif reminder of last years fun. And this was the day we had the camera, we did not have the camera on us when the other hurricane hit, and the fountain at the stadium was nearly completely covered. These pics don't look so bad compared to what the 2nd hurricane did to us.
So I don't know, maybe we should enjoy the game at the stadium, and not notice the fencing, portapottys, and caution tape - it might be the last game at Victory Stadium for a while.
8/25/05
Breaking news from The Roanoke Times -Roanoke mayor calls for greater business role in politics
Breaking news from The Roanoke Times -Roanoke mayor calls for greater business role in politics: "It takes more than more than talking about what you do not like — it requires action to cause what you do like to happen.'"
Yes, Im a little late with this - but kudos to Mayor Harris. Those are words for people in all sectors to live by.
Yes, Im a little late with this - but kudos to Mayor Harris. Those are words for people in all sectors to live by.
begin the beguine
begin the beguine
incase your interested, a very special happy birthday message to a certain public transportation system.
From me, to you...
incase your interested, a very special happy birthday message to a certain public transportation system.
From me, to you...
Sorry about yesterday, but I'll give you a double dose...
I never got back to the computer until late yesterday, been busy at work getting things straight.
Then I come home to Google Talk (as posted below), on the heels of Google Sidebar, so I had alot of new tech to play with last night.
First off, this Lake nonsense. Allright - I understand that the south end of the lake is not reaping the rewards the north end is. But that might actually be a good thing. Especially if you look at the facts surrounding the North end of the lake. Westlake Village is nice, but completely overrun during the few short weeks of the summer by out-of-towners. 8 weeks a year does not a sustainable economy make.
Stores and businesses are all reshuffling locations and sizes as new, more modern structures go up. But reports from the lake are not encouraging. The new CVS is not doing nearly the business (allegedly) that it did in its old location next to Food Lion on 122. This is probably due to the fact that it is directly across from Kroger, who also has a pharmacy. And is more of an all-in-one destination.
The movie theatre could not find a national chain to manage it, so its an independant. Which is not a bad thing, but considering how much alleged money is there at the lake, one would think a national chain would be chomping at the bit to get a piece of it.
Once the summer is over, the lake returns to its normal operations - which is comfortable, perhaps a bit more crowded than when I first went over 6 years ago now, but still pleasant. Summers I tend to avoid the lake, due to the congestion and over-abundance of New Yorkers. Yes I am one, but that does not mean I want more down here. I think we have enough, I see plenty on a daily basis. And even they agree, they don't want a New York South, they like Roanoke for what it is and what it has to offer. This includes the Lake, Rocky Mount, and Franklin County in general.
I think we will have to watch Westlake (or Willardsville as the locals call it) for the next few years to see how sustainable seasonal business can be.
Now, to my other target - Roanoke County.
Rutrough Rd. and the Blue Ridge - 350+ acres have been provisionally released for the building of a, get this, "golf course" community. Because exactly what Roanoke County needs is an expanded, inflated tax base of near- and full-retirees. Believe me I do understand what benefits there are to having such a base. Higher revenues from property taxes, a more stable economy (provided the turn-over rate of new retirees can pace the ones who pass), and what could be considered a "soft use" for vacant land.
But what is forgotten about is the fact that, if they put up 400 units (homes, townhomes, condos, what have you...), and each unit contains 2 people, thats 800 people with disposeable income and at the very least basic needs. Therefore it shifts whatever the current local economy might be to a service economy.
And what do we know about a service economy? Unless you are the one directly providing the service (i.e.- doctor, nurse, landscaper, contractor..) you are just an employee of the provider. And employees never get paid well enough. So as housing prices begin to rise due to the influx of new money, the ones who do all the work to keep the economy running can no longer afford to live in the very place they provide the service.
Take for example your average supermarket worker. They provide a service, be it a speedy and accurate check out, a properly cut pound of ham, or a wide selection of produce in a clean atmosphere. They have to put in the hours to make sure you are able to get what you want, when you want it in safe and sanitary conditions (although this is not the case at all supermarkets *ahem*). All this and more is part of their daily duties, which they do 5 days a week at least, doing more in the time allotted to them than reasonably can be done, and going home at night and worrying about the amount of work still to be done. They are not paid for the work they perform, they are paid for the work their title is supposed to perform. And each person in a supermarket usually does much more than their title implies.
I am not saying this is all employees - there are those who are happy enough to barely do their given job, much less anything else. Not everyone gives 100%, but for those who do - there is always more to do, picking up the slack left by others. Those who are motivated to do the best for and by the public, who feel a sense of responsibility to the public. And Im willing to bet 75% of all service industry employees enter their job each day with a smile, and some pride in what they do. Those 75% are also the ones who struggle each day to make ends meet, and will continue to do so as the economy around them changes. If they can break even, all the better - but its always a slim margin.
Now I don't know if Roanoke County fails to see that, or just looks at the basic facts of more houses, more people, more jobs. Its a dangerous equation to play the numbers game with. I can personally tell you a good percentage of the landscapers, launderers, and housekeepers in the ritziest areas of NY live in some of the worst areas. All I can say is at least Roanoke City has a somewhat balanced plan for new housing development and retail development. Or they seem to have.
Roanoke County would do well to take stock of what it has, what it needs, and how to balance the two. I understand you want a better return on unused land to build the property tax coffers, but you won't need funding for schools if there are no students to use them.
Then I come home to Google Talk (as posted below), on the heels of Google Sidebar, so I had alot of new tech to play with last night.
First off, this Lake nonsense. Allright - I understand that the south end of the lake is not reaping the rewards the north end is. But that might actually be a good thing. Especially if you look at the facts surrounding the North end of the lake. Westlake Village is nice, but completely overrun during the few short weeks of the summer by out-of-towners. 8 weeks a year does not a sustainable economy make.
Stores and businesses are all reshuffling locations and sizes as new, more modern structures go up. But reports from the lake are not encouraging. The new CVS is not doing nearly the business (allegedly) that it did in its old location next to Food Lion on 122. This is probably due to the fact that it is directly across from Kroger, who also has a pharmacy. And is more of an all-in-one destination.
The movie theatre could not find a national chain to manage it, so its an independant. Which is not a bad thing, but considering how much alleged money is there at the lake, one would think a national chain would be chomping at the bit to get a piece of it.
Once the summer is over, the lake returns to its normal operations - which is comfortable, perhaps a bit more crowded than when I first went over 6 years ago now, but still pleasant. Summers I tend to avoid the lake, due to the congestion and over-abundance of New Yorkers. Yes I am one, but that does not mean I want more down here. I think we have enough, I see plenty on a daily basis. And even they agree, they don't want a New York South, they like Roanoke for what it is and what it has to offer. This includes the Lake, Rocky Mount, and Franklin County in general.
I think we will have to watch Westlake (or Willardsville as the locals call it) for the next few years to see how sustainable seasonal business can be.
Now, to my other target - Roanoke County.
Rutrough Rd. and the Blue Ridge - 350+ acres have been provisionally released for the building of a, get this, "golf course" community. Because exactly what Roanoke County needs is an expanded, inflated tax base of near- and full-retirees. Believe me I do understand what benefits there are to having such a base. Higher revenues from property taxes, a more stable economy (provided the turn-over rate of new retirees can pace the ones who pass), and what could be considered a "soft use" for vacant land.
But what is forgotten about is the fact that, if they put up 400 units (homes, townhomes, condos, what have you...), and each unit contains 2 people, thats 800 people with disposeable income and at the very least basic needs. Therefore it shifts whatever the current local economy might be to a service economy.
And what do we know about a service economy? Unless you are the one directly providing the service (i.e.- doctor, nurse, landscaper, contractor..) you are just an employee of the provider. And employees never get paid well enough. So as housing prices begin to rise due to the influx of new money, the ones who do all the work to keep the economy running can no longer afford to live in the very place they provide the service.
Take for example your average supermarket worker. They provide a service, be it a speedy and accurate check out, a properly cut pound of ham, or a wide selection of produce in a clean atmosphere. They have to put in the hours to make sure you are able to get what you want, when you want it in safe and sanitary conditions (although this is not the case at all supermarkets *ahem*). All this and more is part of their daily duties, which they do 5 days a week at least, doing more in the time allotted to them than reasonably can be done, and going home at night and worrying about the amount of work still to be done. They are not paid for the work they perform, they are paid for the work their title is supposed to perform. And each person in a supermarket usually does much more than their title implies.
I am not saying this is all employees - there are those who are happy enough to barely do their given job, much less anything else. Not everyone gives 100%, but for those who do - there is always more to do, picking up the slack left by others. Those who are motivated to do the best for and by the public, who feel a sense of responsibility to the public. And Im willing to bet 75% of all service industry employees enter their job each day with a smile, and some pride in what they do. Those 75% are also the ones who struggle each day to make ends meet, and will continue to do so as the economy around them changes. If they can break even, all the better - but its always a slim margin.
Now I don't know if Roanoke County fails to see that, or just looks at the basic facts of more houses, more people, more jobs. Its a dangerous equation to play the numbers game with. I can personally tell you a good percentage of the landscapers, launderers, and housekeepers in the ritziest areas of NY live in some of the worst areas. All I can say is at least Roanoke City has a somewhat balanced plan for new housing development and retail development. Or they seem to have.
Roanoke County would do well to take stock of what it has, what it needs, and how to balance the two. I understand you want a better return on unused land to build the property tax coffers, but you won't need funding for schools if there are no students to use them.
Google Talk
Google Talk
Forgotten Roanoke is now on Google Talk! Its free, its a better Im system, plus you get better-than-cellphone quality calls on it. FREE! ANYWHERE!
Get it - get yourself a gmail, or a plain google account, and you too can harass your friends. And if you ever see me online, feel free to harass me.
AND if you dont have a Gmail account, drop me a line - I've got about 100 to toss around.
Although I might ask you a question to make sure your legit, so be prepared.
Forgotten Roanoke is now on Google Talk! Its free, its a better Im system, plus you get better-than-cellphone quality calls on it. FREE! ANYWHERE!
Get it - get yourself a gmail, or a plain google account, and you too can harass your friends. And if you ever see me online, feel free to harass me.
AND if you dont have a Gmail account, drop me a line - I've got about 100 to toss around.
Although I might ask you a question to make sure your legit, so be prepared.
8/24/05
News from The Roanoke Times -Lake's south side draws attention
not thrilled with this at all. Will have more to say after breakfast.
8/23/05
Its coming....
Summer is almost over. *Halleliula Chorus*
Kids in the County went back today. Poor things, I don't envy them. And to have to start back on the best day in weeks here. Sheesh.
It was 64 last night. The official low. It was only 66 when I woke up this morning. The air was a touch drier, the sky a touch bluer. The air was cleaner.
Im working 12-8 for the concieveable future, so updates will be almost exclusively morning. Of course, that all depends - we keep having days like this, I might be audioblogging - because I'll be out at the Roanoke River Greenway taking in life.
Although maybe I should hire that guy who does the Home Shows on cable to do my audioblogging. Just write the script and boom, let him do it. Nice speaking voice and all.
Anyway - there might be an update later, however if this day continues as nice as it is - dont expect it. Sorry, Ive been too pent up this summer to sit here and pound the keys. However, if the situation warrants - I'll be here every morning anyway, so you all be on your best behavior.
Kids in the County went back today. Poor things, I don't envy them. And to have to start back on the best day in weeks here. Sheesh.
It was 64 last night. The official low. It was only 66 when I woke up this morning. The air was a touch drier, the sky a touch bluer. The air was cleaner.
Im working 12-8 for the concieveable future, so updates will be almost exclusively morning. Of course, that all depends - we keep having days like this, I might be audioblogging - because I'll be out at the Roanoke River Greenway taking in life.
Although maybe I should hire that guy who does the Home Shows on cable to do my audioblogging. Just write the script and boom, let him do it. Nice speaking voice and all.
Anyway - there might be an update later, however if this day continues as nice as it is - dont expect it. Sorry, Ive been too pent up this summer to sit here and pound the keys. However, if the situation warrants - I'll be here every morning anyway, so you all be on your best behavior.
8/22/05
roanoke.com - Weather Index - Death toll still low from tornadoes
Interesting read by one of the best writers the Times has.
Only Kevin could make a rather bloodless tornado season seem worrying and fascinating all at once.
Only Kevin could make a rather bloodless tornado season seem worrying and fascinating all at once.
8/21/05
deep thought
deep thought: " GRAHAM
(whispers)
... There are all different ways
you can tell that there's someone
really there watching out for us.
You see signs. Sometimes they're
little ones. You think of someone.
The phone rings. They're on the
phone... Sometimes they're big,
like fourteen lights hovering over
Mexico City.
(beat)
Sure, there are a lot of people
watching this who think this could
be a bad thing. But there are a
lot of people watching this, who
think it's a miracle. A sign of
God's existence. It's all in how
you look at things Merrill.
(beat)
What you have to decide is what
kind of person you are? Are you
the type who believes in miracles
and looks for signs or are you the
kind who believes, things just
happen by chance?"
(whispers)
... There are all different ways
you can tell that there's someone
really there watching out for us.
You see signs. Sometimes they're
little ones. You think of someone.
The phone rings. They're on the
phone... Sometimes they're big,
like fourteen lights hovering over
Mexico City.
(beat)
Sure, there are a lot of people
watching this who think this could
be a bad thing. But there are a
lot of people watching this, who
think it's a miracle. A sign of
God's existence. It's all in how
you look at things Merrill.
(beat)
What you have to decide is what
kind of person you are? Are you
the type who believes in miracles
and looks for signs or are you the
kind who believes, things just
happen by chance?"
Attention Citizens!
There is a new page up at forgotten-roanoke.com
Yes its a rehash of an old page, but now with more pics and information.
Have fun.
Yes its a rehash of an old page, but now with more pics and information.
Have fun.
8/20/05
"What do you want?" "Information."
"who are you?"
"I am number 2."
"Who is number 1?"
"You are Number 5."
"I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN!"
Anyway, that aside - I do need information.
There is a severe shortage of interior photos from Roanoke's old hotels. What did the interior of the Ponce look like? Not the postcard view either - Im talking about the everyday view. People had events there, some came to stay just for a visit - there has to be photos somewhere.
The Hotel Shenendoah, same deal. We all know how it looked towards the end, but what about when it was in its prime? Anyone?
So thats what Im looking for, interior photos from Roanokes Grand Ol' Dames. If you or anyone you know has some, please contact me and I will be more than happy to take them, scan them and return the original to you with a digital copy that will forever be archived. Plus, you get credit if/when I use the photo on the website.
So let me know, if you please.
Thanks.
"I am number 2."
"Who is number 1?"
"You are Number 5."
"I AM NOT A NUMBER, I AM A FREE MAN!"
Anyway, that aside - I do need information.
There is a severe shortage of interior photos from Roanoke's old hotels. What did the interior of the Ponce look like? Not the postcard view either - Im talking about the everyday view. People had events there, some came to stay just for a visit - there has to be photos somewhere.
The Hotel Shenendoah, same deal. We all know how it looked towards the end, but what about when it was in its prime? Anyone?
So thats what Im looking for, interior photos from Roanokes Grand Ol' Dames. If you or anyone you know has some, please contact me and I will be more than happy to take them, scan them and return the original to you with a digital copy that will forever be archived. Plus, you get credit if/when I use the photo on the website.
So let me know, if you please.
Thanks.
Visitor log for RoanokeFound
Visitor log for RoanokeFound
So now not only can I track your IP, I can see where you are.
evil? Who me?
So now not only can I track your IP, I can see where you are.
evil? Who me?
8/19/05
Editorials from The Roanoke Times -Victory Stadium as directional signal
One has to wonder how many editorials the Times has written like this over the past years.
"Aunt Mabel used to come a'visitin' every Thanksgiving, and greet us as we came through the door after the big game with the smell of her pecan pie."
Boy, what a high opinion they have of their readership.
And might I mention the dripping irony this op/ed has? Sad, really. It is the very definition of "a good talking-down to."
Oh yes, and by the by - take a look at Florida. U of Miami Hurricanes vs. FSU Seminoles vs. U of Florida Gators. 3 big teams, 3 huge rivalrys. So I guess a college football rivalry is still a major event in someones life.
Me thinks the Times needs to realize for as much griping about how people "want Roanoke back the way it used to be," they too are secretly hoping for things back the way it used to be - when their circulation was high, readership was widespread, and while you would always have your Bill McClure's, the majority of people generally agreed with them.
Ahh the halcyon days of journalisim. When people rarely questioned the validity of a newspapers opinions.
Editorial board of the Times: I am fairly certain most people allready have an opinion on Victory Stadium, be it white-water rafting area when it floods, or landfill when its torn down. Write the article explaining both sides, do not opine and condescend to tell us what we should think.
"The pitched political battle over the stadium reflects two very different visions of what the city and its place in the region should be: competitive, insular, wedded to the past; or collaborative, open, ready for change. And change will happen, guaranteed."
Umm.. yeah, ok. If thats what you believe. Or it could be that the vision that you term competitive, insular, and wedded to the past might be competitive with, say... Greensboro for concerts and whatnot. Insular in that we are not recieving funding for the rebuild from Salem or any other local municipality. And wedded to the past could be mistaken for actually appreciating the past, and what it can bring forth to the future.
Times, I have a feeling your clock is nearing midnight.
"Aunt Mabel used to come a'visitin' every Thanksgiving, and greet us as we came through the door after the big game with the smell of her pecan pie."
Boy, what a high opinion they have of their readership.
And might I mention the dripping irony this op/ed has? Sad, really. It is the very definition of "a good talking-down to."
Oh yes, and by the by - take a look at Florida. U of Miami Hurricanes vs. FSU Seminoles vs. U of Florida Gators. 3 big teams, 3 huge rivalrys. So I guess a college football rivalry is still a major event in someones life.
Me thinks the Times needs to realize for as much griping about how people "want Roanoke back the way it used to be," they too are secretly hoping for things back the way it used to be - when their circulation was high, readership was widespread, and while you would always have your Bill McClure's, the majority of people generally agreed with them.
Ahh the halcyon days of journalisim. When people rarely questioned the validity of a newspapers opinions.
Editorial board of the Times: I am fairly certain most people allready have an opinion on Victory Stadium, be it white-water rafting area when it floods, or landfill when its torn down. Write the article explaining both sides, do not opine and condescend to tell us what we should think.
"The pitched political battle over the stadium reflects two very different visions of what the city and its place in the region should be: competitive, insular, wedded to the past; or collaborative, open, ready for change. And change will happen, guaranteed."
Umm.. yeah, ok. If thats what you believe. Or it could be that the vision that you term competitive, insular, and wedded to the past might be competitive with, say... Greensboro for concerts and whatnot. Insular in that we are not recieving funding for the rebuild from Salem or any other local municipality. And wedded to the past could be mistaken for actually appreciating the past, and what it can bring forth to the future.
Times, I have a feeling your clock is nearing midnight.
8/18/05
Shanna Flowers -The poor are always with you, Roanoke County
Shanna Flowers -The poor are always with you, Roanoke County
I've been quiet too long. And Im not picking on you Shanna, but this whole San Souci/Mews low income apartment deal is asinine.
First off, for those who can't meet the guidlines for income, I say - look around. I can tell you for a fact that the apartments which Im living in are cheaper than the new prices in the Villages at Garst Creek. Im not in a low income housing development. Actually Im in a prime location, probably far better than that of the Villages.
Between the convient location to everything, and I mean - it just does not get any more convienient, the wonderful buildings, the pool, the view from the pool. And Im not paying what they will be at the Villages.
Well, actually I might be paying close to it, but I have 2 dogs, and I opted for the Washer-Dryer in the apartment. So it adds a little. Still not what the Villages allegedly will charge.
This hubbub over the Villages tho comes down to 2 words that have the locals up in arms. "Low Income"
Granted, the government of Roanoke County really can do nothing about it - so stop pestering them. The citizens cannot do anything either. Such is the way of private property.
But Shanna, please. Show some understanding of this issue. Find me where Roanoke County has legislated the non-development of affordable housing? And Roanoke County itself, not being a landlord, has no responsibility towards those with lower incomes. Just like Roanoke County does not see the validity in having a public transit system, or funding one.
There is no requirement for them to have one, its just an nice thing to have.
But seriously Shanna, you found some numbers to back up your point about Roanoke City's housing situation, but still revert to baseless critisims of the residents of the county. You will not change a mindset by pointing out the fears that cause it.
The neighbors are giving voice to their worst fears, and what else could you think when you hear of the crime and drug hotspots in Roanoke. Now I understand that it is not solely attributable to low income housing, but they do seem to be a hotspot for it. There are several reasons for this, of course.
Similar arguments are tried in NYC, with crime rates in housing projects being double what they are in similar income neighborhoods, and people say there is no correlation. Well there is, sad to say, and for whatever reasons there continues to be.
Shanna, I think you need to realize the story from all angles, and stop attempting to portray the residents of Roanoke County as elitist. Maybe some of them are, but they don't have an option - so let them vent, ignore them, and wait for them to quiet down.
But remember that the perception will not change until change occurs within the community itself. And no opinion piece will change that.
I've been quiet too long. And Im not picking on you Shanna, but this whole San Souci/Mews low income apartment deal is asinine.
First off, for those who can't meet the guidlines for income, I say - look around. I can tell you for a fact that the apartments which Im living in are cheaper than the new prices in the Villages at Garst Creek. Im not in a low income housing development. Actually Im in a prime location, probably far better than that of the Villages.
Between the convient location to everything, and I mean - it just does not get any more convienient, the wonderful buildings, the pool, the view from the pool. And Im not paying what they will be at the Villages.
Well, actually I might be paying close to it, but I have 2 dogs, and I opted for the Washer-Dryer in the apartment. So it adds a little. Still not what the Villages allegedly will charge.
This hubbub over the Villages tho comes down to 2 words that have the locals up in arms. "Low Income"
Granted, the government of Roanoke County really can do nothing about it - so stop pestering them. The citizens cannot do anything either. Such is the way of private property.
But Shanna, please. Show some understanding of this issue. Find me where Roanoke County has legislated the non-development of affordable housing? And Roanoke County itself, not being a landlord, has no responsibility towards those with lower incomes. Just like Roanoke County does not see the validity in having a public transit system, or funding one.
There is no requirement for them to have one, its just an nice thing to have.
But seriously Shanna, you found some numbers to back up your point about Roanoke City's housing situation, but still revert to baseless critisims of the residents of the county. You will not change a mindset by pointing out the fears that cause it.
The neighbors are giving voice to their worst fears, and what else could you think when you hear of the crime and drug hotspots in Roanoke. Now I understand that it is not solely attributable to low income housing, but they do seem to be a hotspot for it. There are several reasons for this, of course.
Similar arguments are tried in NYC, with crime rates in housing projects being double what they are in similar income neighborhoods, and people say there is no correlation. Well there is, sad to say, and for whatever reasons there continues to be.
Shanna, I think you need to realize the story from all angles, and stop attempting to portray the residents of Roanoke County as elitist. Maybe some of them are, but they don't have an option - so let them vent, ignore them, and wait for them to quiet down.
But remember that the perception will not change until change occurs within the community itself. And no opinion piece will change that.
8/17/05
pbwiki - wikiroanoke: FrontPage
pbwiki - wikiroanoke: FrontPage
Hey, I tried to warn yall that this was coming. Now - the true WikiRoanoke is born. you can find the password over at WikiRoanoke.
Join in, lock in, and rip the knob off.
Its easy, simple, and fun. So shaddup and do it...
Hey, I tried to warn yall that this was coming. Now - the true WikiRoanoke is born. you can find the password over at WikiRoanoke.
Join in, lock in, and rip the knob off.
Its easy, simple, and fun. So shaddup and do it...
BST24: Summations and Closing Arguements
So 24 days from smacking my head in Atlantic City, to sleeping in bed in Moneta. With a side trip to Charlottesville in the middle somewhere.
I was home, recovering, relaxing. Retired? Well, thats debateable.
August 17th, I was officially discharged, I was officially free. And as for meds out of the hospital, I had 2 perscriptions. One for 2 days worth of "take once daily" steroids, as they weaned me off. Expensive buggers, that 2 days worth was one split in half, and still cost $30 for one pill. And the other perscription was for Potassium in the form of a salt pill. Those were cheap, and I had a 15 day supply. To this day I still take potassium supplements, my body just sucks the stuff up.
But if you have never taken a Salt pill, a quick word on its unintended and unmentioned side effect. Ever get salt on your finger, and suck it off? You know how your mouth begins to water? Well taking a salt pill - your mouth begins to water to the point of nearly being drool. A lovely feature I bet you did not know you had.
And thats it, those are the sum total of my perscription needs. To this day nurses and doctors still look at me funny when I tell them I take no medications, although why - I do not know.
On August 19th it was back to UVA to have my staples removed (which I did not totally realize I still had in), more bloodwork, and a general checkup.
The pronouncement was 98% normal. 2% looney. And 5% clinically nuts.
"But thats 105%!"
Right you are sir, if your going to do something - give it all you've got and then some.
That was my last trip to UVA for a while. Next one was for a follow up MRI at the 1 month mark.
In the weeks following, I made a few (and I do mean few) trips to Rocky Mount. Carilion Franklin Memorial's outpatient rehab department. I had a total of 1 physical rehab visit, which was more just to see if I needed it than anything else. And 3 occupational visits. My fine fine motor skills are shot, so no scrimshaw for me. Other than that, Im alive. Fairly healthy. Put back on the 100lbs I lost thanks to moms cookin. Yes, life looks different now - and not in the "It's a Wonderful Life" kind of way.
Subtle things. But too few to mention.
So now my thank youse:
Thank Youse to my parents, family, and friends - who put up with my silly ass while I kept hemming and hawing about going to a doctor, who did the prayin' and praisin' while I was in the hospital, and who took the time to not only sit by my bedside - but actually sleep in the same room on a cot while I was down.
Thank Youse: to Dr. Steven Lewis of Moneta, who had more of a clue than an entire hospital in NY did. The man is a miracle worker, and Im not the only one who says that.
Thank Youse: to the Staff of the UVA Neurosurgery Department, including all those nurses and nursing students who had to put up with me. Dr. Shaffrey and his surgical team. Drs. Farace and Irons from the Neuropsychology crew. The Doctor me and my folks referred to as the Iron Surgeon, whose name we dont remember - but whose skills we cant forget.
And most of all Thank Youse to all you people reading this. I have had days where I recorded more hits than I had in a week of writing normally. I know its hard to leave a comment when you dont know what to say, but I'd like to hear it anyway. Especially from you fine folks at Carilion, who seem to enjoy reading this. You can put it in my comments section below, or e-mail me at forgotten.roanoke@gmail.com.
There is one final chapter to this whole story, but that does not come till December. And it will wait till then to be told.
We now resume our regular broadcasting... Which means all my usual targets better be wary. Im back.
I was home, recovering, relaxing. Retired? Well, thats debateable.
August 17th, I was officially discharged, I was officially free. And as for meds out of the hospital, I had 2 perscriptions. One for 2 days worth of "take once daily" steroids, as they weaned me off. Expensive buggers, that 2 days worth was one split in half, and still cost $30 for one pill. And the other perscription was for Potassium in the form of a salt pill. Those were cheap, and I had a 15 day supply. To this day I still take potassium supplements, my body just sucks the stuff up.
But if you have never taken a Salt pill, a quick word on its unintended and unmentioned side effect. Ever get salt on your finger, and suck it off? You know how your mouth begins to water? Well taking a salt pill - your mouth begins to water to the point of nearly being drool. A lovely feature I bet you did not know you had.
And thats it, those are the sum total of my perscription needs. To this day nurses and doctors still look at me funny when I tell them I take no medications, although why - I do not know.
On August 19th it was back to UVA to have my staples removed (which I did not totally realize I still had in), more bloodwork, and a general checkup.
The pronouncement was 98% normal. 2% looney. And 5% clinically nuts.
"But thats 105%!"
Right you are sir, if your going to do something - give it all you've got and then some.
That was my last trip to UVA for a while. Next one was for a follow up MRI at the 1 month mark.
In the weeks following, I made a few (and I do mean few) trips to Rocky Mount. Carilion Franklin Memorial's outpatient rehab department. I had a total of 1 physical rehab visit, which was more just to see if I needed it than anything else. And 3 occupational visits. My fine fine motor skills are shot, so no scrimshaw for me. Other than that, Im alive. Fairly healthy. Put back on the 100lbs I lost thanks to moms cookin. Yes, life looks different now - and not in the "It's a Wonderful Life" kind of way.
Subtle things. But too few to mention.
So now my thank youse:
Thank Youse to my parents, family, and friends - who put up with my silly ass while I kept hemming and hawing about going to a doctor, who did the prayin' and praisin' while I was in the hospital, and who took the time to not only sit by my bedside - but actually sleep in the same room on a cot while I was down.
Thank Youse: to Dr. Steven Lewis of Moneta, who had more of a clue than an entire hospital in NY did. The man is a miracle worker, and Im not the only one who says that.
Thank Youse: to the Staff of the UVA Neurosurgery Department, including all those nurses and nursing students who had to put up with me. Dr. Shaffrey and his surgical team. Drs. Farace and Irons from the Neuropsychology crew. The Doctor me and my folks referred to as the Iron Surgeon, whose name we dont remember - but whose skills we cant forget.
And most of all Thank Youse to all you people reading this. I have had days where I recorded more hits than I had in a week of writing normally. I know its hard to leave a comment when you dont know what to say, but I'd like to hear it anyway. Especially from you fine folks at Carilion, who seem to enjoy reading this. You can put it in my comments section below, or e-mail me at forgotten.roanoke@gmail.com.
There is one final chapter to this whole story, but that does not come till December. And it will wait till then to be told.
We now resume our regular broadcasting... Which means all my usual targets better be wary. Im back.
8/16/05
BST23: A visit from an old friend.
Now had I know ahead of time that this would be my 200th post, I would have made a cake. As it is, I have a twinkie and a lighter. I'd be wise not to light the twinkie - as I have heard they are explosive.
So the day dawns clear and nice, and the usual habits ensue in the morning. Blood, Nurse (for vitals), Doc, Food. Although today, between the blood and the nurse, something unusual happened.
I developed a low grade fever.
Heads were slapped around the room, as everyone was waiting for those magic words: "Get the hell out, go home, your not wanted anymore, get!"
We were so close to the end, yet so far. This fever was seen as a Code Red Crisis.
Why the hell is this kid running a fever again? What the hell could be wrong now?
Well, this meant more testing, and testing and whatnot, and testing.
Finally, when the situation seemed most impossible - they called in the heavy hitters.
The Infectious Disease Team. *dum da dum-dum*
Well, obviously this did not apply to me, as I did not have ebola, nor was I in the general area of monkeys. So what did I have to worry about?
Well - they could keep me another few days, that cause worry?
Hmm.. so in walks this doctor-ly lookin guy, surrounded by student-ly lookin people. Great, now Im a class project. They ask me to sit up, cough, and all that stuff. He asks the class if there is anything outstanding which could be indicative of anything.
One girl pipes up, "Well, he has a rash on his back."
My mother, on cue and tired of hospital food: "Of course he has a rash on his back, he has been laying in bed for days now. Plus he did have a reaction to the dilantin, which caused fevers. And Dr. Shaffrey said it would take time for it to leave his body."
I think in her mind she finished the last line with "..., asshat."
Suddenly a ray of light opened in the room and shone on the Infectious Disease Doc. Ahhh yes, that must be it. Ok folks - we shall move along, nothing to see here.
So we were left to wait it out, till Shaffrey got the Docs word. A couple of hours later, it came. I was going home.
The next day, August 17th, at 8:45am I was discharged from UVA Medical Center after that one last visit from Dilantin. It was a quiet discharge, not much to say. Everyone wishing me well, and gathering my goodies for the trip home. And in the interest of brevity, and allowing me to get back to current issues, I am finishing it now.
After the paperwork was handled, the final days meds were administered, prescriptions were passed out, and follow up appointments were filed, I was waiting for the chair to come take me down to the car home. Dad had gone to get it. The woman who wheeled me down was the same woman who had wheeled me up to my room that Friday 2 weeks ago. She was nearly in tears talking about how she had prayed and prayed for me. All I could say was thank you.
Its nearly impossible to think of how just my very entry into that hospital touched people, and to see me heading out - nearly 95% better, was a miracle in their eyes. I found out in the ensuing days that I had near legions of people praying for me, special masses for me... insane the amount of backing that I had at that point.
And here I was, going home - not a vegetable. Plus, I had a head with a commodity in it. Always a bonus.
But wait, there was still the challenge of actually getting in the car. Anxious to get home, I jumped out of the chair and stood. Standing, outside. Breathing the hot, humid air. I was ready to get in the car... blech - heat.
I leaned forward to get in, and smacked my head right into the frame of the door.
DOH!
So off we go, back to 29 south. Well, if you know anything about 29 and UVA - you know there are a few lights before you get to the actual open road part. Well, at each light, as we came to a stop my head rolled forward. Now remember, I had not used my neck all that much in the hospital. Well, light goes green.... head goes back, and back, and bumps the back of the seat.
This happened a few times on the trip. There was no way I could possibly keep it from happening either, aside from laying down - which at 6'3" was not going to happen in the backseat of a Chevy Blazer. 29S to 460W to 122 to Moneta. I remember thinking of how deafening the rumble was, how bizzare the trip itself seemed.
Sensory overload for someone who has not seen much lately. It was only 2 weeks for god's sake.
Pulling into the driveway, my grandmother threw the door open wide. I came in, went right to the bathroom to do the thing UVA could not get me to do, and made the trip upstairs - right to bed.
I slept long and deep, peaceful under blankets which seemed to weigh a ton. Home again home again, jiggity jig.
Tomorrow: BST24:Summation and Observations.
So the day dawns clear and nice, and the usual habits ensue in the morning. Blood, Nurse (for vitals), Doc, Food. Although today, between the blood and the nurse, something unusual happened.
I developed a low grade fever.
Heads were slapped around the room, as everyone was waiting for those magic words: "Get the hell out, go home, your not wanted anymore, get!"
We were so close to the end, yet so far. This fever was seen as a Code Red Crisis.
Why the hell is this kid running a fever again? What the hell could be wrong now?
Well, this meant more testing, and testing and whatnot, and testing.
Finally, when the situation seemed most impossible - they called in the heavy hitters.
The Infectious Disease Team. *dum da dum-dum*
Well, obviously this did not apply to me, as I did not have ebola, nor was I in the general area of monkeys. So what did I have to worry about?
Well - they could keep me another few days, that cause worry?
Hmm.. so in walks this doctor-ly lookin guy, surrounded by student-ly lookin people. Great, now Im a class project. They ask me to sit up, cough, and all that stuff. He asks the class if there is anything outstanding which could be indicative of anything.
One girl pipes up, "Well, he has a rash on his back."
My mother, on cue and tired of hospital food: "Of course he has a rash on his back, he has been laying in bed for days now. Plus he did have a reaction to the dilantin, which caused fevers. And Dr. Shaffrey said it would take time for it to leave his body."
I think in her mind she finished the last line with "..., asshat."
Suddenly a ray of light opened in the room and shone on the Infectious Disease Doc. Ahhh yes, that must be it. Ok folks - we shall move along, nothing to see here.
So we were left to wait it out, till Shaffrey got the Docs word. A couple of hours later, it came. I was going home.
The next day, August 17th, at 8:45am I was discharged from UVA Medical Center after that one last visit from Dilantin. It was a quiet discharge, not much to say. Everyone wishing me well, and gathering my goodies for the trip home. And in the interest of brevity, and allowing me to get back to current issues, I am finishing it now.
After the paperwork was handled, the final days meds were administered, prescriptions were passed out, and follow up appointments were filed, I was waiting for the chair to come take me down to the car home. Dad had gone to get it. The woman who wheeled me down was the same woman who had wheeled me up to my room that Friday 2 weeks ago. She was nearly in tears talking about how she had prayed and prayed for me. All I could say was thank you.
Its nearly impossible to think of how just my very entry into that hospital touched people, and to see me heading out - nearly 95% better, was a miracle in their eyes. I found out in the ensuing days that I had near legions of people praying for me, special masses for me... insane the amount of backing that I had at that point.
And here I was, going home - not a vegetable. Plus, I had a head with a commodity in it. Always a bonus.
But wait, there was still the challenge of actually getting in the car. Anxious to get home, I jumped out of the chair and stood. Standing, outside. Breathing the hot, humid air. I was ready to get in the car... blech - heat.
I leaned forward to get in, and smacked my head right into the frame of the door.
DOH!
So off we go, back to 29 south. Well, if you know anything about 29 and UVA - you know there are a few lights before you get to the actual open road part. Well, at each light, as we came to a stop my head rolled forward. Now remember, I had not used my neck all that much in the hospital. Well, light goes green.... head goes back, and back, and bumps the back of the seat.
This happened a few times on the trip. There was no way I could possibly keep it from happening either, aside from laying down - which at 6'3" was not going to happen in the backseat of a Chevy Blazer. 29S to 460W to 122 to Moneta. I remember thinking of how deafening the rumble was, how bizzare the trip itself seemed.
Sensory overload for someone who has not seen much lately. It was only 2 weeks for god's sake.
Pulling into the driveway, my grandmother threw the door open wide. I came in, went right to the bathroom to do the thing UVA could not get me to do, and made the trip upstairs - right to bed.
I slept long and deep, peaceful under blankets which seemed to weigh a ton. Home again home again, jiggity jig.
Tomorrow: BST24:Summation and Observations.
8/14/05
BST22: So close, so close yet so far...
Allright - seeing as how officially as of tomorrow morning, Forgotten Roanoke is re-launched, (feel free to poke around, things look different - but the old pages arent back up yet. But the new ones are pretty cool, I think) Im going to do some time compression here.
So the 14th passes with my making leaps and bounds improvements, being up and moving around - being ravenously hungry. Making my phone calls for the first time in days, answering tons of questions for the docs. STILL getting bloodwork at 5am.
Which leads to this tragic passage in the story. How to make a Phlebotomy tech cry unintentionally.
I had achieved a level of sleep which is precise, and dangerous. Military snipers sleep like this. Ever watchful while resting. I was programmed with the 4:45am wakeup call for the 5am-ish blood check. And the 6am doc visit. And the 7:30am breakfast call.
Well, I had some of the nicest blood-suckers one could ask for. Including this girl. She really could not have been more than 20, and she had been in a few times. We yapped casually as she sucked another few ounces of blood out of me.
Well, on the morning of either the 14th or 15th (that early its nearly impossible to remember), she had come in as usual. Started locking in her target vein for the day, began to slide the needle in, and the vein quickly ran the other way. She tried to coax it back, but it was not having any of it.
No, not in the least. And apparently it had joined a rebellion amogst my veins. She tried 3 times to tap in, and 3 times they just scooted out of the way at the last minute.
She started apologizing, like it was her fault I had union veins.
She was very upset, thinking that she was hurting me. As much as I tried to tell her she was not, she kept on with that thought. She left the room, fighting back tears, saying she would get her supervisor to come in.
About a half hour later, in comes the Head Vampire. A shortish, swarthy, no-nonsense looking fellow. We shall call him Vlad.
He walks up to me, takes a look at my arm, swabs it, preps the needle and bottles, and with nary a word - he pops me.
My veins, rigid with fear, don't move. Vlad has what he came for, and again - no words. He packs up and leaves, taking with him a deep shadow, and my veins relax.
Even the walls seemed to sigh in relief. I had to agree.
The next day, she did not return. She did stop in once before I left, last minute tests I believe. Again she apologized, and again I tried to tell her that it was not her fault. But this time she struck gold, straight into the vein of her choice. No problems.
It was a sort of closure, which I am thankful is not the typical everyday closure. My veins have a "strike-ready" stance. Waiting for that next moment they are called upon by the union leader, the Aorta, to rise up against sticking oppression.
So anyway, anecdotes are all I have left for these last few days. Well, except for the fact that we are not quite done with Dilantin just yet.
So the 14th passes with my making leaps and bounds improvements, being up and moving around - being ravenously hungry. Making my phone calls for the first time in days, answering tons of questions for the docs. STILL getting bloodwork at 5am.
Which leads to this tragic passage in the story. How to make a Phlebotomy tech cry unintentionally.
I had achieved a level of sleep which is precise, and dangerous. Military snipers sleep like this. Ever watchful while resting. I was programmed with the 4:45am wakeup call for the 5am-ish blood check. And the 6am doc visit. And the 7:30am breakfast call.
Well, I had some of the nicest blood-suckers one could ask for. Including this girl. She really could not have been more than 20, and she had been in a few times. We yapped casually as she sucked another few ounces of blood out of me.
Well, on the morning of either the 14th or 15th (that early its nearly impossible to remember), she had come in as usual. Started locking in her target vein for the day, began to slide the needle in, and the vein quickly ran the other way. She tried to coax it back, but it was not having any of it.
No, not in the least. And apparently it had joined a rebellion amogst my veins. She tried 3 times to tap in, and 3 times they just scooted out of the way at the last minute.
She started apologizing, like it was her fault I had union veins.
She was very upset, thinking that she was hurting me. As much as I tried to tell her she was not, she kept on with that thought. She left the room, fighting back tears, saying she would get her supervisor to come in.
About a half hour later, in comes the Head Vampire. A shortish, swarthy, no-nonsense looking fellow. We shall call him Vlad.
He walks up to me, takes a look at my arm, swabs it, preps the needle and bottles, and with nary a word - he pops me.
My veins, rigid with fear, don't move. Vlad has what he came for, and again - no words. He packs up and leaves, taking with him a deep shadow, and my veins relax.
Even the walls seemed to sigh in relief. I had to agree.
The next day, she did not return. She did stop in once before I left, last minute tests I believe. Again she apologized, and again I tried to tell her that it was not her fault. But this time she struck gold, straight into the vein of her choice. No problems.
It was a sort of closure, which I am thankful is not the typical everyday closure. My veins have a "strike-ready" stance. Waiting for that next moment they are called upon by the union leader, the Aorta, to rise up against sticking oppression.
So anyway, anecdotes are all I have left for these last few days. Well, except for the fact that we are not quite done with Dilantin just yet.
BST21: Whaddaya mean I gotta get outa bed??
the 13th/14th of August, 3 years ago. Marked by one thing - the light at the end of the tunnel.
We could see the end of the road ahead, just had to get there. Through the occupational therapists, the physical therapists. The Neuro-psychs - who wanted to make sure I was not going to drool out of my left side and kill people with my right. The doctors had stated on several occasions that they had never seen a recovery quite like this one. Such a fast recovery, such a clean recovery. Such a nice boy....
Plans for my escape began. After all this time, my mother - father - and I really just wanted to get the hell out of there. I was eating like a pig, and sucking down grapes like there was no tomorrow. The shunt surgery had left me with gas pains like you would not believe, and for some reason - the grapes helped. Maybe something I could patent?
I was beginning to see more of the outside world. I had been to the mirror in the room a few times to get a good look at myself. Boy, was I a mess. And rather upset that I did not get the nice mohawk I wanted. I still was not sleeping much - and I still had not been to the bathroom for more than 2 minutes. But as I told them, its not easy to go on a bowl thats a good foot higher than the one you are used to. And it had handles like an easy chair. That was weird.
One of the therapists, don't remember which one, actually took me downstairs to the cafeteria. Now my parents had told me about the cafeteria, how big it was and how busy. I truly had no idea though exactly how insane the place was.
I took 2 bucks, and went down. Instantly I was inundated with the scenes and sounds of life. Lines snaking this way and that - but I saw my target. A cinnamon-rasin bagel with cream cheese, and a cup of coffee. Got it, paid for it, then I learned of the real task at hand. Not could I handle the cafeteria - Hell, I'd been on subways more crowded than that. Nope - getting back to the room with no help from the therapist.
Good one. In retrospect, it was a great idea. At the time, I was not happy. As I said - I probably could not tell you today where my room was, much less at the time. But he told me, 6th floor, and gave me the room number - then stood back as I went for the elevators. UVA only had about 5 different elevator banks, so I had to backtrack through the cafeteria to find the right ones, then up - then I got lost on the 6th floor.
Boy was I red when I found out that my room was basically right across from the elevators, around the corner.
Sheesh.
Otherwise, it was mainly monitoring - making sure everything was going well.
Tomorrow: BST22: Return of the Overly-Warm Boy.
PS - the updated Forgotten-Roanoke.com is nearly complete. I'm putting pages up as I have time, which is not much. But bear with me. It's all coming together.
We could see the end of the road ahead, just had to get there. Through the occupational therapists, the physical therapists. The Neuro-psychs - who wanted to make sure I was not going to drool out of my left side and kill people with my right. The doctors had stated on several occasions that they had never seen a recovery quite like this one. Such a fast recovery, such a clean recovery. Such a nice boy....
Plans for my escape began. After all this time, my mother - father - and I really just wanted to get the hell out of there. I was eating like a pig, and sucking down grapes like there was no tomorrow. The shunt surgery had left me with gas pains like you would not believe, and for some reason - the grapes helped. Maybe something I could patent?
I was beginning to see more of the outside world. I had been to the mirror in the room a few times to get a good look at myself. Boy, was I a mess. And rather upset that I did not get the nice mohawk I wanted. I still was not sleeping much - and I still had not been to the bathroom for more than 2 minutes. But as I told them, its not easy to go on a bowl thats a good foot higher than the one you are used to. And it had handles like an easy chair. That was weird.
One of the therapists, don't remember which one, actually took me downstairs to the cafeteria. Now my parents had told me about the cafeteria, how big it was and how busy. I truly had no idea though exactly how insane the place was.
I took 2 bucks, and went down. Instantly I was inundated with the scenes and sounds of life. Lines snaking this way and that - but I saw my target. A cinnamon-rasin bagel with cream cheese, and a cup of coffee. Got it, paid for it, then I learned of the real task at hand. Not could I handle the cafeteria - Hell, I'd been on subways more crowded than that. Nope - getting back to the room with no help from the therapist.
Good one. In retrospect, it was a great idea. At the time, I was not happy. As I said - I probably could not tell you today where my room was, much less at the time. But he told me, 6th floor, and gave me the room number - then stood back as I went for the elevators. UVA only had about 5 different elevator banks, so I had to backtrack through the cafeteria to find the right ones, then up - then I got lost on the 6th floor.
Boy was I red when I found out that my room was basically right across from the elevators, around the corner.
Sheesh.
Otherwise, it was mainly monitoring - making sure everything was going well.
Tomorrow: BST22: Return of the Overly-Warm Boy.
PS - the updated Forgotten-Roanoke.com is nearly complete. I'm putting pages up as I have time, which is not much. But bear with me. It's all coming together.
8/13/05
BST20: Wow, I did not know it could multiply that fast.
Hi.
I've got a problem. Now no one knew I had this problem before the shunt surgery. They all figured that the fevers and whatnot were because of the pressure on my brain. Ask my mother, she will tell you like she told the doctors, "His brain can't handle any pressure."
S'true too.
The shunt valve was wide open. The widest setting they have for maximum flow. And yet the fevers did not end.
At this point I was on my 11th day in the hospital, and I had no infection.
Bloodwork, bloodwork, poking and prodding by the In.Fectio.us disease team. More on them in a few days, fun group. Hey, guess what - I was not discharging the Dilantin. It had just continued to build in my body till the levels were off the charts. And as if that was not enough, I was having an allergic-type reaction to it. Apparently my body had decided to go storing it for the winter. It was as if the first dose was all that was needed to keep my body going for the time I was there, and the rest was just being stored for later. But in quantity, I was having a problem with the stuff. One pill I probably would have been fine, its when its one pill a day for 11 days you get worry.
Oh - and my left side was still shot beyond belief. Like a whale missing one fin, I felt like I was constantly rolling over.
But wait - it would not last long, could not last long. The therapists were due any day now.
Although I did have one guilty pleasure. I had a massage therapist.
more later....
I've got a problem. Now no one knew I had this problem before the shunt surgery. They all figured that the fevers and whatnot were because of the pressure on my brain. Ask my mother, she will tell you like she told the doctors, "His brain can't handle any pressure."
S'true too.
The shunt valve was wide open. The widest setting they have for maximum flow. And yet the fevers did not end.
At this point I was on my 11th day in the hospital, and I had no infection.
Bloodwork, bloodwork, poking and prodding by the In.Fectio.us disease team. More on them in a few days, fun group. Hey, guess what - I was not discharging the Dilantin. It had just continued to build in my body till the levels were off the charts. And as if that was not enough, I was having an allergic-type reaction to it. Apparently my body had decided to go storing it for the winter. It was as if the first dose was all that was needed to keep my body going for the time I was there, and the rest was just being stored for later. But in quantity, I was having a problem with the stuff. One pill I probably would have been fine, its when its one pill a day for 11 days you get worry.
Oh - and my left side was still shot beyond belief. Like a whale missing one fin, I felt like I was constantly rolling over.
But wait - it would not last long, could not last long. The therapists were due any day now.
Although I did have one guilty pleasure. I had a massage therapist.
more later....
8/11/05
BST19: Whose room is this anyway?
Allright, sorry about that folks - just needed some more coffee.
To catch the story up, here are some plot points that will be condensed for the sake of brevity:
To catch the story up, here are some plot points that will be condensed for the sake of brevity:
- The drain in my brain was making me insane: Well no not technically, the drain had to be kept level with my ears to work properly. Easy to do with me being in bed all the time, but then there comes those ineveitible times when I have to actually get out of the bed to use the restroom. Yep, my strength came back in my left side with a vengance, mostly. The feeling of the whole side was still of near non-existence, but the strength was there. Anyway, when I had to use the facilities - a nurse would come in, clamp off the valve on the drain, help me out with the whole getting in the bathroom thing, then unclamp the drain when I was back in bed. One nurse did not do this last crucial part. I remember sitting there listening to my parents talk and watching the tv, when suddenly - I felt like I was sinking backwards into my body. I was barely able to actually talk, but managed to tell my mother what I was feeling. She went and got a nurse, who checked the valve and opened it. That nurse went and found my neurosurgeon who was doing his rounds, and the next thing I know - I hear his voice booming out over the halls. I dont remember what he said (which is probably a good thing), but I do remember the sound of his doom-filled footsteps as he made his way to the nurses station, and found the nurse responsible. What followed was not pretty, but showed that the man gave a damn, loudly. He then came in an apologized, checked me out, and noted the event in his records. When the valve had been reopened, quite a bit of brainjuice came out. This was to be an important fact.
- I had began taking nightly walks. Well, once or twice anyway. Ripping out my IV's and wandering the halls with the brain drain in tow, knowing it had to be kept high. Like walking with a helium baloon. I remember the nurses finding me, and gently shoving me back into bed. Of course, it stopped when the words "one more time and they will have to restrain you to the bed" were heard.
- the room I was in, was not the room I was in. I woke up one night swearing and angry about being moved into the basement. Another night, another room entirely. Something was affecting me, but no one knew what yet.
- I was getting fevers. To the point where I had to be iced down a bit to cool off. Showing no signs of infection, but fevers none the less. This launched a Spanish Inquisition. Shaffrey had decided that I needed a shunt. The docs did not want to install said shunt due to fevers. Shunt being issue #1, fevers #2.
- Issue #1 won out. I had the shunt installed. Although not as nicely as I would have liked to remember it. When it comes to the surgery for the tumor, I do not remember even leaving the room. For the shunt - I was wide awake the whole ride down. I remember lying outside the OR, on my bed talking with the nurse who was accompanying me. I remember telling her that I once heard that shunts can gurgle. Yeah, you heard me. I was doing just fine. I can still sort of remember the conversation the docs were having as they were waiting for me to drop out in the OR itself. I was not happy, I wanted to be gone before I saw an elevator.
- SPVP Magnetically Programmable Shunt installed. $5k worth of titanium stuck into my skull, for my own well being. The brain started improving instantly. The Fevers? Well that was another story. Oh, and by the by - as a quick fix to get the fevers down enough so they could operate, I had a Motrin IB, suppository style. What fun.
BST20: Attack of the Infectious Disease Team
BST update
will take place eventually tonight. Possibly early tomorrow morning. Im too tired and worn down to type much now.
But I'll finish this, I swear.
But I'll finish this, I swear.
8/10/05
BST18a: Not Eddie Murphy in The Golden Child
Allright, yes I am tired.
I just wanted to add one more thing tonight.
Sometimes people get a brain drain. Theyre tired, can't think straight, basically braindead - and admitting it.
I literally had a brain drain. A long piece of tubing, which now leads to a kind of reverse iv bag. Capturing the wonderful thought fluid in my head. So it could be measured.
Now I really hope none of you have to go through this, but incase you do - after they have taken the measurements of how much fluid your kicking out - they dump it.
In the toilet.
Thus the sum total of your lifes thoughts, dreams, and spinal lubricants - it all equates to toilet water.
I found it amusing - but I find many things amusing.
I read somewhere the market value of a human body is roughly $80 bucks if broken down into its base parts. Well, for the next two days we are going to deal with my personal significant increase in bodily value.
And my best efforts to find the nurses station in a hospital built as a test to patients. I think there are still patients wandering around the floors, trying to find the elevators. Well, the right elevators anyway.
Tomorrow: Zen and the art of wandering hospital corridors with your brain drain in tow.
I just wanted to add one more thing tonight.
Sometimes people get a brain drain. Theyre tired, can't think straight, basically braindead - and admitting it.
I literally had a brain drain. A long piece of tubing, which now leads to a kind of reverse iv bag. Capturing the wonderful thought fluid in my head. So it could be measured.
Now I really hope none of you have to go through this, but incase you do - after they have taken the measurements of how much fluid your kicking out - they dump it.
In the toilet.
Thus the sum total of your lifes thoughts, dreams, and spinal lubricants - it all equates to toilet water.
I found it amusing - but I find many things amusing.
I read somewhere the market value of a human body is roughly $80 bucks if broken down into its base parts. Well, for the next two days we are going to deal with my personal significant increase in bodily value.
And my best efforts to find the nurses station in a hospital built as a test to patients. I think there are still patients wandering around the floors, trying to find the elevators. Well, the right elevators anyway.
Tomorrow: Zen and the art of wandering hospital corridors with your brain drain in tow.
BST18: Why can't I wear my glasses properly?
What? It's an honest question.
I was just happy to have my damn glasses at this point. I could see with clarity again! What junk on TV.. sad.
Ok, lets see where I stand at this point. Having had the surgery, having spent 18-20 hours in NeuroICU (yeah, that really threw me for a loop.), having a pretty speedy time so far, at least the docs said so.
So round about this time is when I noticed I had no use for my left arm. Well, I should not put it that way, what I should say is my left arm was about 75% less effective than it was before the surgery. Come to think of it, my entire left side was pretty odd.
I slept funny, I had to hold onto the railing on the hospital bed while I slept. Right hand gripping left rail as Im sleeping. To try and keep from feeling like, boy - this one is a hard one to describe.
Ok - so they retracted the right side of my brain during surgery. And as we all know, the right and left sides of the brain cross paths in the body. Right controls the left, and vice versa.
Well it seemed as if my right side of the brain was taking a few days off, to recover from the trauma. Which left my left-side nearly useless.
Plus I'm a side-sleeper. Now they had come in the first morning in my room to check up on me, and remove something. Well, I could not see it as it was out my view, but I could feel it as the doctor cut it off of me.
Apparently I had a plastic tube running out of my head on the left side. And on the right. And no, I was not flossing my brain again.
These were to allow for overflow in the brain fluid as it equalized itself again.
So I had to let my glasses perch on my head, no where near the tubes. If I was not careful about which way I leaned in bed, I could feel the remaining tube on my right side pulling. Ever feel something being pulled from your head?
Eww.
Anyway, time for me to go get ready for work. I will finish this days story off later.
I was just happy to have my damn glasses at this point. I could see with clarity again! What junk on TV.. sad.
Ok, lets see where I stand at this point. Having had the surgery, having spent 18-20 hours in NeuroICU (yeah, that really threw me for a loop.), having a pretty speedy time so far, at least the docs said so.
So round about this time is when I noticed I had no use for my left arm. Well, I should not put it that way, what I should say is my left arm was about 75% less effective than it was before the surgery. Come to think of it, my entire left side was pretty odd.
I slept funny, I had to hold onto the railing on the hospital bed while I slept. Right hand gripping left rail as Im sleeping. To try and keep from feeling like, boy - this one is a hard one to describe.
Ok - so they retracted the right side of my brain during surgery. And as we all know, the right and left sides of the brain cross paths in the body. Right controls the left, and vice versa.
Well it seemed as if my right side of the brain was taking a few days off, to recover from the trauma. Which left my left-side nearly useless.
Plus I'm a side-sleeper. Now they had come in the first morning in my room to check up on me, and remove something. Well, I could not see it as it was out my view, but I could feel it as the doctor cut it off of me.
Apparently I had a plastic tube running out of my head on the left side. And on the right. And no, I was not flossing my brain again.
These were to allow for overflow in the brain fluid as it equalized itself again.
So I had to let my glasses perch on my head, no where near the tubes. If I was not careful about which way I leaned in bed, I could feel the remaining tube on my right side pulling. Ever feel something being pulled from your head?
Eww.
Anyway, time for me to go get ready for work. I will finish this days story off later.
8/8/05
BST17c: Boy did I wrecktify that last title.
Yes, I admit it - I was shot tired when I wrote the last entry. And Im even worse now, so Im going to attempt to be clear and concise when I finish the story of my 3 days/ 24 hours in NeuroICU. Well, again - less than 24 hours.
I have to stress that point, because it leads to one of the most important facts about this whole journey. But that comes in a little while.
So where was I? Ahh yes, the catheter. Boy was that fun. Let me fade back a few days in history to set this whole thing up.
I was, ahem, backed up. The plumbing had stopped working. Had been out of service for at least a week if not longer. That had the docs worried. I can't blame them.
Aside from the fact that the toilet I had in the room was higher, thicker, wider, and more uncomfortable than any toilet I had ever seen, I had no idea why I could not go.
My nurse at the time found this very troubling, echoing what the doctors said.
But she had a solution. I was not for taking any kind of laxative when I was essentially bound to this hospital bed. I told her, a strong cup of coffee will get me going - as it had about twice a month in the past.
Well, she had other designs, unbeknownst to me. Now before I tell you this, understand that this was my favorite nurse. She was the nicest person, kindest soul. You could not want a better nurse than this one. Sad though, I do not remember her name. But I hope she recognizes herself, or at least her cup of "coffee."
Ok - so heres the recipie for (pardon) Whistling Intestines:
1 part apple juice
1 part prune juice
1 part milk of magnesia
Warm in microwave, mix thoroughly.
Well, she handed me a warm cup, full of mostly dark liquid. So what was I supposed to think? Coffee, here it comes! I chugged that cup and asked for another.
I never said I was in my right mind.
Well, you would have thought that would have worked or something, but no. 1 hour later, all I got was a whistle.
Well, more like a screetching howl, but you get the idea.
So I was still backed up. Amazing no?
So when I was in NeuroICU, yes I was confined to my bed. But they were still expecting some movement of some sort.
I fell asleep again, and woke up to bright lights, a new day. They told me I was being sent to my own room again! WOO HOO.. or something like it. My voice was shot, I could not speak. They brought me food. Well, something approximating food.
Apparently, according to the little menu sheet I was able to read, I was on a soft-warm diet. Warm jello, lukewarm tea, stuff like that. No solids. Well, a fascinating meal to say the least.
A large man came into view. He was a nurse, charged with removing the catheter. Poor guy, what a job to have. He jostled me out of bed, somehow had me standing. Did a little thing, talking to me the whole time. Then he says, "Hold on..."
In my memory, it was quick and painless, but odd. Somehow he stomped on the tube, and it popped out.
Enough detail - I know I know.
So back into bed to wait. Then these 2 pixies in nurses assitants clothing sparkled into view. They were going to transport me back to my room. WOO HOO..
They were chatty little sprites, yapping my ears off. Nice to hear after 3 days in the long dark.
They gave me a roll of toilet paper.
Interesting gift for one just out of surgery. Apparently every patient has certain items assigned them. A cup for water, box of tissues, roll of Tp. And what is not used goes with the patient to the next room.
So off with my roll of Tp. Back to the room, where they got me out of bed (again!) so they could change the sheets and all that stuff. I asked to be sat on the edge of the bed so I could look out the window. The pixies left, happily chattering as they went. It would be a few minutes before my mother got to the room to join me. I remember rising up just enough to see out the window and down those 6 stories. I could faintly make out the train tracks below.
I still did not have my glasses, and I was still pissed about it. But I could see, I was still alive. I survived major brain surgery. I cried a little, happy kind of tears. Glad to be alive.
Then my mother came in the room and I was laid back down in the bed. I was not totally sure why I needed all this assistance, as I did not feel much different. Aside from having almost no voice, and extremely clear sinus', there was no major change I could see, aside from the string of christmas lights attached to my arm. Well, that was what I called all the IV lines and monitor lines attached to me.
Little did I know what I looked like. Or what had been done to me.
Tomorrow: BST19: What spaghetti this way comes...
(yes, Im skipping 18, due to the size and complexity of 17. Deal with it - if its important, it will show up later.)
I have to stress that point, because it leads to one of the most important facts about this whole journey. But that comes in a little while.
So where was I? Ahh yes, the catheter. Boy was that fun. Let me fade back a few days in history to set this whole thing up.
I was, ahem, backed up. The plumbing had stopped working. Had been out of service for at least a week if not longer. That had the docs worried. I can't blame them.
Aside from the fact that the toilet I had in the room was higher, thicker, wider, and more uncomfortable than any toilet I had ever seen, I had no idea why I could not go.
My nurse at the time found this very troubling, echoing what the doctors said.
But she had a solution. I was not for taking any kind of laxative when I was essentially bound to this hospital bed. I told her, a strong cup of coffee will get me going - as it had about twice a month in the past.
Well, she had other designs, unbeknownst to me. Now before I tell you this, understand that this was my favorite nurse. She was the nicest person, kindest soul. You could not want a better nurse than this one. Sad though, I do not remember her name. But I hope she recognizes herself, or at least her cup of "coffee."
Ok - so heres the recipie for (pardon) Whistling Intestines:
1 part apple juice
1 part prune juice
1 part milk of magnesia
Warm in microwave, mix thoroughly.
Well, she handed me a warm cup, full of mostly dark liquid. So what was I supposed to think? Coffee, here it comes! I chugged that cup and asked for another.
I never said I was in my right mind.
Well, you would have thought that would have worked or something, but no. 1 hour later, all I got was a whistle.
Well, more like a screetching howl, but you get the idea.
So I was still backed up. Amazing no?
So when I was in NeuroICU, yes I was confined to my bed. But they were still expecting some movement of some sort.
I fell asleep again, and woke up to bright lights, a new day. They told me I was being sent to my own room again! WOO HOO.. or something like it. My voice was shot, I could not speak. They brought me food. Well, something approximating food.
Apparently, according to the little menu sheet I was able to read, I was on a soft-warm diet. Warm jello, lukewarm tea, stuff like that. No solids. Well, a fascinating meal to say the least.
A large man came into view. He was a nurse, charged with removing the catheter. Poor guy, what a job to have. He jostled me out of bed, somehow had me standing. Did a little thing, talking to me the whole time. Then he says, "Hold on..."
In my memory, it was quick and painless, but odd. Somehow he stomped on the tube, and it popped out.
Enough detail - I know I know.
So back into bed to wait. Then these 2 pixies in nurses assitants clothing sparkled into view. They were going to transport me back to my room. WOO HOO..
They were chatty little sprites, yapping my ears off. Nice to hear after 3 days in the long dark.
They gave me a roll of toilet paper.
Interesting gift for one just out of surgery. Apparently every patient has certain items assigned them. A cup for water, box of tissues, roll of Tp. And what is not used goes with the patient to the next room.
So off with my roll of Tp. Back to the room, where they got me out of bed (again!) so they could change the sheets and all that stuff. I asked to be sat on the edge of the bed so I could look out the window. The pixies left, happily chattering as they went. It would be a few minutes before my mother got to the room to join me. I remember rising up just enough to see out the window and down those 6 stories. I could faintly make out the train tracks below.
I still did not have my glasses, and I was still pissed about it. But I could see, I was still alive. I survived major brain surgery. I cried a little, happy kind of tears. Glad to be alive.
Then my mother came in the room and I was laid back down in the bed. I was not totally sure why I needed all this assistance, as I did not feel much different. Aside from having almost no voice, and extremely clear sinus', there was no major change I could see, aside from the string of christmas lights attached to my arm. Well, that was what I called all the IV lines and monitor lines attached to me.
Little did I know what I looked like. Or what had been done to me.
Tomorrow: BST19: What spaghetti this way comes...
(yes, Im skipping 18, due to the size and complexity of 17. Deal with it - if its important, it will show up later.)
BST17b: Due to the graphic nature of this program, listener discretions has been advised.
Meanwhile... back in NeuroICU... things were beginning to get really strange.
Now I partially recognized the fact that I was in the middle of a full on fantasy. I figured this out when I saw members of my extended family line up out in the hallway, just past the room, and go in through a back door.
About 200 members of my extended family.
I knew something was afoot when I saw my aunt and uncle wave at me, and my grandmother admonish them for being seen. Then, for some reason I noticed for the first time the large curtain-covered wall about 20 feet from the end of my bed. I could hear feet shuffling and whispering from behind the curtain.
Then, suddenly the lights dimmed. The curtain rose. And the music started. A production number, my family was giving me a production number. One that wasn't all that different from the opening to the Muppet Show, a nice touch considering my love for all things Muppet.
Then there were 2 simple tableau, sort of one act plays with a core theme of "Congradulations, you made it through!"
Then there was yet another song - after which I thanked them profusely.
The next thing I knew I was awake, staring off into blurry space. Nothing new or different surrounding me, no vaudevillian routines. Apparently I had nodded off during the last act, and everyone had left. But now I can recall the room was dark again, dramatically lit. And I finally could see where my catheter led. Down across the floor, up a curtained wall, back down the other side and into a toilet.
Like Chutes and Ladders.
It was at this point I assumed I was in night 2 of my stay in NeuroICU.
Because this story spans 3 days in my head, and 1 day in reality - Im going to continue BST17 through tonight.
There will be one more update to it, and then we will move on.
Still so much left to talk about.
Now I partially recognized the fact that I was in the middle of a full on fantasy. I figured this out when I saw members of my extended family line up out in the hallway, just past the room, and go in through a back door.
About 200 members of my extended family.
I knew something was afoot when I saw my aunt and uncle wave at me, and my grandmother admonish them for being seen. Then, for some reason I noticed for the first time the large curtain-covered wall about 20 feet from the end of my bed. I could hear feet shuffling and whispering from behind the curtain.
Then, suddenly the lights dimmed. The curtain rose. And the music started. A production number, my family was giving me a production number. One that wasn't all that different from the opening to the Muppet Show, a nice touch considering my love for all things Muppet.
Then there were 2 simple tableau, sort of one act plays with a core theme of "Congradulations, you made it through!"
Then there was yet another song - after which I thanked them profusely.
The next thing I knew I was awake, staring off into blurry space. Nothing new or different surrounding me, no vaudevillian routines. Apparently I had nodded off during the last act, and everyone had left. But now I can recall the room was dark again, dramatically lit. And I finally could see where my catheter led. Down across the floor, up a curtained wall, back down the other side and into a toilet.
Like Chutes and Ladders.
It was at this point I assumed I was in night 2 of my stay in NeuroICU.
Because this story spans 3 days in my head, and 1 day in reality - Im going to continue BST17 through tonight.
There will be one more update to it, and then we will move on.
Still so much left to talk about.
8/7/05
BST17a: The long dark night/day/night/day/night of the soul.
So as I was saying, I was not quite right. 1968? Yeah, and I had just found the best way to dodge the draft.
So I partially come to in NeuroICU, when I come to the sudden realization that Im not wearing my glasses. And not only am I not wearing them, they are no where to be found. I was nearly in a panic. Then I found out that my mother had my glasses, and I would not be getting them back till I was out of NeuroICU. Hey, guess what? I was not happy.
What good is it to be in a new place, with all this high tech equipment, a TV, and I can't see a thing? Besides the fact that I could not see too straight as it was, the blur was really annoying.
Then I passed back out again.
/begin weirdness
There was a nurse (of course there was) in the NeuroICU, charged with monitoring and caring for me. She was nice, from what I remember. I hold no grudge against her. But my mind devised a little special insanity for her, well - not directed at her, but she played a key role in it.
Heres what I thought happened: My bed had a little computer attached (it did), which she would occasionally come and check something on. I thought nothing of it. At one point, she came over and told me she was going to be doing something.. I have no idea what, but something. I think I mumbled, or grunted. Whatever. Then the bed began moving. And not as in "I was being taken somewhere" moving, I mean Craftmatic Adjustable bed moving. Then my legs started vibrating, churning. Like the magic moving bed was sucking them in and rolling them around in its mouth.
And the nurse was no where to be found, as far as my horrible vision could see.
This seemed to last roughly 2 hours, and I laid there in a strange kind of horror. Trying to make sense of all this. At some point it occured to me that I must have those leg-massaging sock thingys on, to keep the blood circulating properly. And the bed itself might move slightly to make sure the blood is moving around properly. This calmed me a bit, but then I got angry. Angry because what was happening to me had not been explained in the slightest. And because I could not see.
Fast forward a few hours, and I woke up - the room was dark with the exception of the monitoring equipment. The nurse was in there, or one of the nurses anyway. In my blurred vision I could see the computer they were working on, and to me - it looked like a mock-up of the LCARS system from Star Trek. Yes, you heard me - it looked like the computer screens on the Next Generation Enterprise.
Yes, I have always liked Star Trek, why do you ask?
I remember asking who had designed that system, and was it infact based on the LCARS.
Lets see, I think around this time I had also been told I was catheterized. As my mind searched for a meaning to such a word, it suddenly dawned on me that there was a reason why I did not need to get out of the bed to go to the bathroom. Umm, yeah - never again I tell you.
So the night continued, and I noticed there was a stack of what looked like DVD cases next to the computer, which lit in sequences. Each seemed to have a title. Which I could not read, of course - due to not having my glasses. (my anger has faded over the years, but not the memory)
It seemed at some point that the nurse on duty began playing some video game on the system, through those lit colored boxes. Yeah, I was sane...
So I must have passed out again, because when I woke up - it was the next day. The room was well lit, everyone seemed fairly perky. Must be morning right?
So in scanning my memory, I came to determine that it had been approximately 2 days since the surgery.
Remember now, my surgery only took 6 hours, and I was only in NeuroICU for about 18 hours.
But 2 days had passed, and I still had time to go.
So I partially come to in NeuroICU, when I come to the sudden realization that Im not wearing my glasses. And not only am I not wearing them, they are no where to be found. I was nearly in a panic. Then I found out that my mother had my glasses, and I would not be getting them back till I was out of NeuroICU. Hey, guess what? I was not happy.
What good is it to be in a new place, with all this high tech equipment, a TV, and I can't see a thing? Besides the fact that I could not see too straight as it was, the blur was really annoying.
Then I passed back out again.
/begin weirdness
There was a nurse (of course there was) in the NeuroICU, charged with monitoring and caring for me. She was nice, from what I remember. I hold no grudge against her. But my mind devised a little special insanity for her, well - not directed at her, but she played a key role in it.
Heres what I thought happened: My bed had a little computer attached (it did), which she would occasionally come and check something on. I thought nothing of it. At one point, she came over and told me she was going to be doing something.. I have no idea what, but something. I think I mumbled, or grunted. Whatever. Then the bed began moving. And not as in "I was being taken somewhere" moving, I mean Craftmatic Adjustable bed moving. Then my legs started vibrating, churning. Like the magic moving bed was sucking them in and rolling them around in its mouth.
And the nurse was no where to be found, as far as my horrible vision could see.
This seemed to last roughly 2 hours, and I laid there in a strange kind of horror. Trying to make sense of all this. At some point it occured to me that I must have those leg-massaging sock thingys on, to keep the blood circulating properly. And the bed itself might move slightly to make sure the blood is moving around properly. This calmed me a bit, but then I got angry. Angry because what was happening to me had not been explained in the slightest. And because I could not see.
Fast forward a few hours, and I woke up - the room was dark with the exception of the monitoring equipment. The nurse was in there, or one of the nurses anyway. In my blurred vision I could see the computer they were working on, and to me - it looked like a mock-up of the LCARS system from Star Trek. Yes, you heard me - it looked like the computer screens on the Next Generation Enterprise.
Yes, I have always liked Star Trek, why do you ask?
I remember asking who had designed that system, and was it infact based on the LCARS.
Lets see, I think around this time I had also been told I was catheterized. As my mind searched for a meaning to such a word, it suddenly dawned on me that there was a reason why I did not need to get out of the bed to go to the bathroom. Umm, yeah - never again I tell you.
So the night continued, and I noticed there was a stack of what looked like DVD cases next to the computer, which lit in sequences. Each seemed to have a title. Which I could not read, of course - due to not having my glasses. (my anger has faded over the years, but not the memory)
It seemed at some point that the nurse on duty began playing some video game on the system, through those lit colored boxes. Yeah, I was sane...
So I must have passed out again, because when I woke up - it was the next day. The room was well lit, everyone seemed fairly perky. Must be morning right?
So in scanning my memory, I came to determine that it had been approximately 2 days since the surgery.
Remember now, my surgery only took 6 hours, and I was only in NeuroICU for about 18 hours.
But 2 days had passed, and I still had time to go.
BST17: A misguided attempt to convey the entirety of 24 hours in 3-4 parts.
Yes, that is possibly the most obtuse title I could come up with. And confusing!
What I was basically trying to say is that this is not going to be a one post story.
This is a multiple. One of several posts I will make in the next 24 hours to attempt to tell the story of my 20+ hours in NICU (Neuro-ICU for those playing along at home).
Yes, I know I said I would add more to the previous post, and I will - theres a repetitive theme to that days story which will reappear later.
So lets start from the beginning.
Today is August 7th. It is just past midnight. 3 years ago I was in a hospital room at the University of Virginia Medical Center waiting on my surgery, scheduled for 8am (I think). It is now 17 days post-birthday seizure blowout. In that time I had fallen, threw up, fallen again, went to a hospital where I had an x-ray taken of the space between my chin and my chest.
Pause.
Got on a train, rode 398 miles from NYC to LYH, got in a car, went to WalMart, fell down, went home to my parents, had a haircut, ate chinese, threw up.
Pause.
Went to the Good Doctor, went for a CT, went home, went to UVA, went to admissions, went to my room. Blur.....
And now this moment. The waiting, the watching the clock. It all boiled down to this moment. And I don't remember any of it.
For a moment here the dates will seem skewed. Understand please, I had massive surgery, 6 hours worth. They retracted the right lobe of my brain so they could get at the tumor. Which as we came to find out - was stuck right down the middle. Septum Pellucidum if I recall correctly. It was big, about the size of a bab's fist. And we are not talking newborn either. Combine that with the massive amounts of anesthetics I must have been under, and the dilantin effect - and you have one massive time warp.
They used a Dremel on my head!
Easily one of my favorite tools, and they used it on my head! Gave me whats known in the industry as a "burr hole," or as we commoners call it - a dent.
From what I've been told, it was a high-tech affair. Computers, 3D models, lazer sighting line ups with the lifesavers they had previously stuck to my head.
There was me, on the table. Above me was a MRI image on a screen that aligned with my head. That image was 3D, which enabled them to figure out where they needed to be to eradicate the damned thing.
There was very little drama. Just the Good Surgeons careful manuvering around these tiny filaments that connect the left and right side of the brain, for to sever one could lead to something unwanted. What or how bad I do not know, but not good from what I understand.
There is a breif glimmer of rememberance from the time when I left the OR, when the doctors all crowded around me to stir me back to life. They meant well, they really did - but you don't ask a wiseass like me "Do you know where you are?"
I responded, "I should hope so, you have UVA written on EVERYTHING!"
According to my mother, I was not so lucid when they asked me the year. I was born in 1975, in July. For some reason - I told them it was 1968.
Peace, love and brain surgery I guess.
Anyway - theres a ton more to come. Most of it complete fantasy, all of it real.
At least it seemed to be.
More to come, stay tuned...
What I was basically trying to say is that this is not going to be a one post story.
This is a multiple. One of several posts I will make in the next 24 hours to attempt to tell the story of my 20+ hours in NICU (Neuro-ICU for those playing along at home).
Yes, I know I said I would add more to the previous post, and I will - theres a repetitive theme to that days story which will reappear later.
So lets start from the beginning.
Today is August 7th. It is just past midnight. 3 years ago I was in a hospital room at the University of Virginia Medical Center waiting on my surgery, scheduled for 8am (I think). It is now 17 days post-birthday seizure blowout. In that time I had fallen, threw up, fallen again, went to a hospital where I had an x-ray taken of the space between my chin and my chest.
Pause.
Got on a train, rode 398 miles from NYC to LYH, got in a car, went to WalMart, fell down, went home to my parents, had a haircut, ate chinese, threw up.
Pause.
Went to the Good Doctor, went for a CT, went home, went to UVA, went to admissions, went to my room. Blur.....
And now this moment. The waiting, the watching the clock. It all boiled down to this moment. And I don't remember any of it.
For a moment here the dates will seem skewed. Understand please, I had massive surgery, 6 hours worth. They retracted the right lobe of my brain so they could get at the tumor. Which as we came to find out - was stuck right down the middle. Septum Pellucidum if I recall correctly. It was big, about the size of a bab's fist. And we are not talking newborn either. Combine that with the massive amounts of anesthetics I must have been under, and the dilantin effect - and you have one massive time warp.
They used a Dremel on my head!
Easily one of my favorite tools, and they used it on my head! Gave me whats known in the industry as a "burr hole," or as we commoners call it - a dent.
From what I've been told, it was a high-tech affair. Computers, 3D models, lazer sighting line ups with the lifesavers they had previously stuck to my head.
There was me, on the table. Above me was a MRI image on a screen that aligned with my head. That image was 3D, which enabled them to figure out where they needed to be to eradicate the damned thing.
There was very little drama. Just the Good Surgeons careful manuvering around these tiny filaments that connect the left and right side of the brain, for to sever one could lead to something unwanted. What or how bad I do not know, but not good from what I understand.
There is a breif glimmer of rememberance from the time when I left the OR, when the doctors all crowded around me to stir me back to life. They meant well, they really did - but you don't ask a wiseass like me "Do you know where you are?"
I responded, "I should hope so, you have UVA written on EVERYTHING!"
According to my mother, I was not so lucid when they asked me the year. I was born in 1975, in July. For some reason - I told them it was 1968.
Peace, love and brain surgery I guess.
Anyway - theres a ton more to come. Most of it complete fantasy, all of it real.
At least it seemed to be.
More to come, stay tuned...
8/6/05
BST16: well, not really - but close enough
Things are a bit muddled in my memory about the timeline of events today and tomorrow. For some reason they are melded into one in my head.
I know there were issues with my calling my wife at midnight one night, and 5am one morning. I know that the midnight call and the 5am call were the same night.
TO run down what I am positive of: This was the day before surgery. I was wired, tired, and on edge. I had developed a headache (more of the brain pain thing), and found out that the list of pain meds I could recieve was virtually no holds barred. I went the safe route and chose vicodan, which I knew how I reacted to having had them when my teeth were pulled. They did the trick.
Today I had no choice in meals, as they restricted me for the surgery in the morning. It was a lockdown kind of day. Docs in and out, constant monitoring of my vitals.
I was somewhat calm, or so I thought. But I did know that I was going to have a very hard time getting some sleep that night. I asked for some sort of sleep aid. Like Tylenol PM.
My likey Tylenol PM
I got one of those ones you see on TV. The ones the docs have to prescribe. I don't remember the name of it, or wether or not it worked. But lord, it did not mix well with the vicodan and the dilantin in my system. It was not a good night at all.
If Im right about this, then this was the night my room started changing on me. It no longer seemed like the stable, sanitary room that it was by day. At night, the shadows and lightpools seemed to define the room more than the walls. Almost as if the very shape of the room itself twisted at night. I had alot of rooms while I was at the hospital. Or at least I thought I did. My mother had a cot put in the room so she could stay the night rather than try and get back to the hospital before sunrise when I went into surgery.
As I said, the whole night is kinda fuzzy. I will have a clearer picture later when I have questioned my wife about what went on. But from my end - it was not a good night to be me. Or my nurses. Or one the phone with me.
I know there were issues with my calling my wife at midnight one night, and 5am one morning. I know that the midnight call and the 5am call were the same night.
TO run down what I am positive of: This was the day before surgery. I was wired, tired, and on edge. I had developed a headache (more of the brain pain thing), and found out that the list of pain meds I could recieve was virtually no holds barred. I went the safe route and chose vicodan, which I knew how I reacted to having had them when my teeth were pulled. They did the trick.
Today I had no choice in meals, as they restricted me for the surgery in the morning. It was a lockdown kind of day. Docs in and out, constant monitoring of my vitals.
I was somewhat calm, or so I thought. But I did know that I was going to have a very hard time getting some sleep that night. I asked for some sort of sleep aid. Like Tylenol PM.
My likey Tylenol PM
I got one of those ones you see on TV. The ones the docs have to prescribe. I don't remember the name of it, or wether or not it worked. But lord, it did not mix well with the vicodan and the dilantin in my system. It was not a good night at all.
If Im right about this, then this was the night my room started changing on me. It no longer seemed like the stable, sanitary room that it was by day. At night, the shadows and lightpools seemed to define the room more than the walls. Almost as if the very shape of the room itself twisted at night. I had alot of rooms while I was at the hospital. Or at least I thought I did. My mother had a cot put in the room so she could stay the night rather than try and get back to the hospital before sunrise when I went into surgery.
As I said, the whole night is kinda fuzzy. I will have a clearer picture later when I have questioned my wife about what went on. But from my end - it was not a good night to be me. Or my nurses. Or one the phone with me.
8/5/05
To all you Health Care people out there who are reading this:
And I know your reading it, you folks at Carilion. The folks over at the VDH, and Trigon Blue Cross....
Read it, and take it to heart. This is more insight into a patient than most doctors ever receive, especially a patient going through something like this.
I was at CRMH today, having my PPD test checked. I get a funny feeling when I go into a hospital now. I get the feeling that Im sure hundreds of doctors get, thousands of nurses, millions of support staff: when they first walk through the doors in the morning. I can do some good here.
And thats kinda why Im writing this, as much for you as for me. I am writing it to illustrate the POV of a patient, what we go through. And how you help us. Well, all except the Vampire Squad.
This is as much of a thank you to the fine people at UVA, as it is a recounting of my life 3 years ago.
Many times patients don't get a chance to thank those who do so much for them, even rarer the nursing staff, after the fact. When they are healthy and as back to normal as possible, they never get a chance to thank the ones who dealt with them hour after hour. Who sat with them, listened and talked. Brought them a cup of what appeared to be coffee. (more on that later)
It's rare to ever see those faces again.
This is for them, this is for me, and most of all - this is for you.
Read it, and take it to heart. This is more insight into a patient than most doctors ever receive, especially a patient going through something like this.
I was at CRMH today, having my PPD test checked. I get a funny feeling when I go into a hospital now. I get the feeling that Im sure hundreds of doctors get, thousands of nurses, millions of support staff: when they first walk through the doors in the morning. I can do some good here.
And thats kinda why Im writing this, as much for you as for me. I am writing it to illustrate the POV of a patient, what we go through. And how you help us. Well, all except the Vampire Squad.
This is as much of a thank you to the fine people at UVA, as it is a recounting of my life 3 years ago.
Many times patients don't get a chance to thank those who do so much for them, even rarer the nursing staff, after the fact. When they are healthy and as back to normal as possible, they never get a chance to thank the ones who dealt with them hour after hour. Who sat with them, listened and talked. Brought them a cup of what appeared to be coffee. (more on that later)
It's rare to ever see those faces again.
This is for them, this is for me, and most of all - this is for you.
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