Invitation To An Imagination

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog: www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsgXA83p9qc

Over the past several years I have been dreaming up inventions, and ways in general, to make my life better. Although there may still be a few small details, such as financing, physical abilities, and the general know-how,  I do feel that I am right on the cusp of discovery. The following few paragraphs contain several of those ideas. They are thoughts that I feel are ready to be shared, and so I proudly present them to you.


If at first, you don't succeed.....and if you have Ataxia you probably won't. At least that seems to be the case with me. In fact, I was, and have been thinking, that it would be good if I could simply skip the first, second, third, and most likely the fourth attempt and go straight to the final act of accomplishment. You know, cut out the middle man. This is where I would think a time machine would be the most practical. Not like those time travel movies where someone moves back or forward by a couple hundred years. Those are only fantasy, after all, and in no way even close to reality. No, what I am talking about would be a small device, like a watch, with a dial on the face that could be advanced by five to ten minutes into my future. I think it would be very handy to be able to, say, sit down with my shoes, spin the dial on my device, blink open my eyes eight seconds later, and find that my shoes have been put on and tied. There also wouldn't be any kind of those weird space-time vortexes, or light-streaked wormhole scenes either, like the ones you always seem to see in those same movies. Of course, the only problem that I can foresee with this very plausible scenario is that it would most likely take me five minutes, and numerous attempts, to be able to grip my device and twist it to the desired setting. I'd have to come up with a way to shorten the time needed to set the time-saving appliance. Sound thinking would suggest that I wear a second device that could be used for this purpose. Hmm, I will have to give this circular problem more thought.

Although traveling forward in time a few minutes has been thoroughly established as not only perfectly feasible but also useful to me, jumping back a few moments would also come in handy. I could go back just seconds after falling or some other self-inflicted injury and convince myself to change course or to stop attempting to do whatever it is that I am currently doing. The only problem I see in this is that knowing the kind of guy I am, and based on the fact that I usually don't feel like moving quickly after a bad fall, I could see myself playing with my own head. I'd be laying on the ground and thinking," just let the guy fall, I hurt too much to move right now." The result of this kind of thinking, of course, would be that now I would fall twice, and that seems to be a possible glitch that I would need to work out beforehand.  I'm just thinking off the cuff here, but maybe I could use the time travel thing most of the time, and in the instances that I can't make it back in time I could just put out some kind of marker for myself. So, let's say, if I were to approach a stairway and see a flare at the bottom with a large box of band-aids beside it, I could take this as a subtle hint that I should not go this way.

Other very useful items would be the Back-Exploding Parachute, and the Body Airbags. First I will explain the idea behind the Back-Exploding Parachute.  This would be designed to help slow and stop forward propulsion by being ejected out behind myself. It would create air drag and work to slow me down, much in the same way a dragster is slowed after achieving top speed. Only, I would want the parachute to deploy long before I have allowed myself to flounder and dance my way to maximum speed. The body airbags would provide a cushion and save me from the brunt of an impact. In this way, it would be similar to the car airbag, but unlike the automobile airbag, it would not require hard contact to deploy. If I have already made hard contact with the floor or ground when the air bags decide to make an appearance, then they would really be nothing more than glorified balloons. I suppose that they could be used to make balloon animals at that point, to help take my mind off the pain, while I lay there for about an hour, trying to recover my senses and shrinking dignity. To be of any use to me, the airbags would have to be sensitive enough to know when I have lost my balance, extract themselves, and be fully engaged before I make a painful connection with some kind of inanimate solid object, (this ain't no love connection, neither!).  The airbags would be sown into several pockets and would expand instantly.  The problem would be that for every time I have actually fallen, I have stumbled or lost my balance several hundred times without actually falling and it wouldn't do to have the airbags constantly inflating. I would have little children surrounding me all day, thinking that I am a clown and that at any moment I am going to use balloons for something amazing.  Maybe the balloons will lift me off the ground, and I will begin to fly away.  This would not do at all!  The balloons are a serious medical device, not a toy.

In the past, I have mentioned that I have difficulty executing the putting on of my pants from an upright position. I have endeavored to solve that problem by inventing the Standing Pants Put'er'onr. I need to work on the name, I know, but for now that's what I am going with. It would encompass a large pole that I could slide down, comfortably fitting myself into a pair of pants that have been stood up. The only problem I can foresee is how to make the pants stay up while I am zipping down the pole. For obvious reasons I don't want to use a stake of any kind to secure the pants in case, I would miss and turn myself into a human Popsicle,(or other potential injuries that come to mind). And the heavy use of starch to make the pants stand up would only have me lurching around like Frankenstein. However, I do believe that this is an excellent idea and that eventually, I will overcome these potentially painful obstacles.

Another very useful skill would be to have a secondary image of myself that I could send out before me so that it,(which I will refer to as Captain Cool), could point out potential hazards. Whether I decide to use the Doubling Skill, the Time Dial, Back Exploding Parachute, Body Airbags, or the Standing Pants Put'er'onr, I don't believe that I could go wrong. These are all excellent ideas and all seem to have incredible potential and at the same time, be completely within the realm of possibility.

Here I'm showing my Doubling Skill.

The idea behind these imaginations is that I will not let my physical limitations keep me from dreaming, and I would encourage you to do the same!

It's A Mystery, But I Have A Theory.

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tBGOIww-C0

Over the last several years I have noticed some changes to my physical reality. Oh sure, it would be easy to blame my Ataxia for the discrepancies, but instead I have developed and chosen to use some alternative theories to explain these differences. I just can't let my handicap take ALL the credit, or have ALL the fun. So, here are just a few of the more than plausible substitute explanations that I have come up with to explain these varying occurrences.

I'm really not sure how this keeps happening, but my working theory is that something, or somebody, is adding minute amounts of weight to my shoes every night. I have been noticing over the course of the last year or so that it is becoming more and more difficult to lift my feet when walking, and this causes a shuffling, which brings about a falling. If only my balance were slightly better I could simply strap full sheets of plywood to the bottoms of my shoes and cross country ski my way through life. And whoever is multiplying the weight of my shoes is also very skilled, masterful even. Upon a very critical and close inspection, I have not been able to detect any tampering or structural changes to my footwear. It remains a great mystery to me how this is being done, like I said earlier, but the physical evidence of my stumbling could only, it seems to me, be logically explained by this hypothesis.....that someone is adding weight to my shoes.

I also have a strong inkling, or suspicion, that one out of every thirty million or so beverage containers manufactured worldwide with a screw-top lid is defective, or otherwise crooked, is shipped that way, and sold at the grocery store where I buy my groceries.  My current theory is that somehow I always seem to be the one to purchase these flawed containers. I really don't see any other plausible conclusion. How else would you explain that the lids that I always wind up with never seem to go on right. Actually, I am the only one who struggles, as they seem to function just fine for every other member of my household, and I am still working on coming up with solid reasoning for this little detail.

Don't get me started on the subject of clothing. I mean, I can distinctly remember a time a few years back when I could put my pants on from a standing position. I know you think that I am probably making this up, but I give you my word that this is true. I would balance on one leg while inserting the other, and then I would reverse the process and put the other leg in. Again IT WAS ALL ACCOMPLISHED WHILE STANDING. Nowadays I have to sit to put my pants on, and I used to think it was just me. The lack of balance needed to pull off the standing pant maneuver used to really bother me. That is until I came up with the alternate theory that the material used to make the pants is no longer the same as it used to be. It is now some kind of weird-hybrid cotton/denim/polyester blend. I am really not sure how I could state this to make it any clearer. The pants are to blame, not me, OR my brain.

I have also noticed that I have begun to have a little more difficulty when swallowing. Both food and liquids will cause me to choke. Mostly it is fluids, and you are probably assuming that I may have a theory as to why. Actually yes, yes I do, and do you want to know what is is? It's basically because all of our food nowadays is grown, or made, to expand in your mouth and throat through the careful injection of air. This is actually kind of clever, and in the wake of a possible food shortage will allow us to successfully double the food supply, by cutting in half the food amount needed to fill a person up. It's clever, but I don't like it... I don't like it because it is making me choke.

Now you know what kind of things I struggle with, and am up against. In spite of all of these though, I will continue to enjoy every minute, and all of my family and friends. I strive to lead as normal of a life as possible, and am including a few of my recent snapshots to prove this theory:-).

Standing by a Japanese buoy that washed up on the Oregon Beach. 

Making Clam Chowder while on vacation at the Oregon Beach.

Walking through a display of Christmas lights with my daughter Jessica.

Discrepancies And Time Displacements

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog:www.youtube.com/watch?v=B06DfQXOHf8

There is a phenomenon that happens to all of us as we get older.  We discover that the giants of this world and the things that we perceived, when we were younger, to be larger than life were in fact of normal size or even a little on the small side. Remember the hamburger when you were seven that was of epic proportions, the one that you could never finish, and that has now reached legendary status? Present day? You can easily eat that exact same hamburger in two or three bites, during which you are contemplating ordering another. That huge dessert at that one famous restaurant you went to as a kid,  you know....the one that you would always brag about to all of your friends? You go back to that very restaurant years later only to discover that what you thought was the mega-sized ultimate chocolate dessert was really just a 2 ounce dish of ice cream off the kid's menu. This situation also happens in the realm of my Ataxia, only in reverse. As a kid there were things that I could easily do....things that have now grown to epic proportions. I could, with assurance, step off a four inch curb without the aid of some major mountain climbing equipment or the need for repelling rope. I could run up and down stairs, sometimes even taking two or three at a time, without the need to reassure myself that I have a life insurance policy in case the whole thing goes south on me.

There is, however, also a second way this whole time displacement, or size discrepancy thing works in my life. In 2012 I was let go from my full time job because of the advancement of my condition. The job was physically demanding on me and took a toll, but it kept me active and the concern became that I would degenerate faster if I didn't find a way to exercise my muscles and keep them engaged. Sitting around all day and watching television just wasn't going to cut it, even if I was repetitively lifting a fork from a plate of cake to my mouth, (I even tried a second piece of cake, but it still was not enough, if you can believe that)!  So, I decided to begin a walking routine and started out by walking a distance of 5 to 7 miles a day. That was just two summers ago, and currently I'm lucky to walk 3 miles a day.  Oh, I know that it's good that I'm still moving, but it really doesn't work very well to remember the good ol' days when really the good ol' days were just 2 years ago! The older I get and the longer I walk with Ataxia,(the pun  was intended), the shorter, it seems, become the spaces in the time displacements.

I have been faced with the reality of my physical limitations for several years now, and as odd or funny as this may seem, I still have moments when my mind will assess an obstacle or problem in front of me, such as a set of stairs, and thinks that it will be of no consequence. Probably 99.90 percent of the time I am fully aware of my stellar lack of any balance, but it's that .10 percent of my mind that just won't play nice. Just the other day Melissa and I were walking through a park that was surrounded by a golf course, and I found myself thinking that it wouldn't be such a difficult thing to fluidly swing a club again like I did when I was 17. In my fantasy world I could even see it.....the young kid hitting a beautiful shot straight down the fairway. After approximately 2 seconds the .10 percent of fantasy-brain was pushed aside by the other 99.90 percent of my thinking-in-the-real-world-brain, and I now clearly see the 51-year old man who would never make it to even hitting the ball because halfway through the swing he would lose his balance, do a new dance called the S.S.D, or Spastic Salsa Dance, and follow it up by throwing himself in a heap to the ground. Or there have been times when I will get the sudden impression that I can run, or at least jog slowly. I used to be a runner, it shouldn't be to hard, my leg muscles should remember this and know what to do, right? Uh, yeah, there like, "What's this thing called.....running? Nope, sorry, don't believe we've ever heard of it before or ever had the pleasure."

Some of you reading this will understand the phenomenon, or discrepancies that I write about, but I will attempt to describe it another way. About a year before I was officially diagnosed I was working at a large shop that made cabinet doors. I worked on a shaper and in a accident had about half an inch taken off my right middle finger. It was very strange, but my mind kept telling me to use my right hand like I had always done in the past. This was not going to work though because an important part of the finger was now gone. Never before had I realized or even thought about how important the tip of my finger was. I had been relying on it to feel, balance, and help grip things. Just a half inch! That's all, and now I had to re-train my brain to function without it. So it goes with balance, I never really stopped to consider all the things that were possible because of it, until it was gone.

So, it would seem that there will always be discrepancies and struggles with time displacement, but that just means that now I will have to always be on the lookout for new ways to approach life's little challenges.

This and all the pictures that have been a part of the blog, My Life-With Ataxia Along For The Ride have been taken by, and used with compliments, from Melissa Wolfer.

Christmas Statistics That Lead Us.......

It's that time of year again...a time for me to remember the fact that when it comes to sending out cards, that I am a very proficient slacker. This fact becomes abundantly crisper in focus the closer I approach the Holidays. The Christmas card for me has begun to resemble the daydreaming sequence that is seen in movies where the main character is lost in thought while driving at night. He or she will always have drifted into the opposite lane, and fail to notice the semi-truck headlights as they approach and quickly grow brighter and brighter. In my world, there is always a collision at the end of this scene. Mine is not a collision with another vehicle however, but with Christmas, right before I wake up from my fantasy-induced coma. Time seems to be moving so fast that often it seems like I have just rolled into bed with a belly full of Thanksgiving Turkey,and ALL the trimmings,and the next thing I know I am shaking cobwebs out of my head, and palming sleep from my eyes on Christmas morning.

I have noticed over the years that there are five different categories of people when it comes to the subject of the Christmas card.
#1. The Super Early Bird....This is the person who purchases several boxes of cards on sale right after the previous Christmas, and mails them out sometime between The Fourth Of July and Labor Day. On an intensity scale of 1 to 10, this would score about a 12.5,(the only way to gain a higher mark would be to fill out said cards on New Year's Eve, thinking this to be a totally sane way to welcome in the new year).
#2. The Early Bird....These are the people who use the sugar-rush brought on by the Halloween candy mania to motivate themselves to get all two hundred cards hand-written, sealed and addressed, stamped, and mailed just moments after their kids have returned from trick-or-treating. Both the first and second kind of person will also hand deliver cards the week before Thanksgiving. I know they mean well, but whenever I receive one of these cards, it is as if they are saying,"I'm sorry you haven't done your cards yet....poor dear....I wish there were more I could do for you, but you will just have to keep struggling along the best you can".
#3. The, Yeah I've Still Got Time....These people are typically more of the," Eventually I'll get to it", type of people, and I don't want to judge here, but tend also to be a little more balanced. They usually get their cards out within the first or second week of December, and the cards will always arrive to their intended destinations well before all the spiked eggnog is gone.
#4. The Motivated By Guilt....These people are typically very overwhelmed, have multiple fires burning at any one time, and they do not feel that they have any say about sending cards, because the guilt of receiving, and possibly not reciprocating, is just too heavy. There also may, or may not, be a little touch of the Grinch within. Usually it is at about the moment of decision to mail, or not to mail, that the person will hear their mother whispering in their ear about the shamefulness of doing nothing...."It is Christmas after all, and your friends went to so much effort and trouble to send you this nice card! Wouldn't you be embarrassed to NOT send cards?"
#5 The, What, I Missed It Again?....These are the people who will put on a good show, coming up with all sorts of reasons and excuses for their negligence,(shoot, I forgot to buy cards, envelopes, and stamps, again!), but who never really intended to send out ANY cards in the first place. And it very well may be because they have chosen to make other worthy things in their lives a priority. Or, it just simply might be that they are very lazy and struggle with procrastination.

photo taken by and courtesy of Melissa Wolfer

There are also four kinds of greetings that are sent out.
#1. The Card Only....This is a nice greeting card only, or a one sheet post card in an envelope. The idea here is that there is only one item being received. This method is simple, clean, and in many cases, totally sufficient.
#2.The Card AND Picture....This is a well thought out greeting card, which is also accompanied by a nice picture, usually a nice photo that was taken in the Fall when it was dry and there were a lot of nice colors. These kind of greetings take planning and forethought, and will potentially account for about half of the cards that are received.
#3. The Card AND Holiday Newsletter....Again, this is a nice card, but this time it is accompanied by a one to two page newsletter. This seems to be a rather popular choice, and also an opportunity to share with all your friends and loved ones just how many international vacations you went on, and usually a lot of this type is seen as well.
#4. The Perfect Trifecta....This greeting wonder consists of the card, picture, AND a newsletter. Yes, it is a bit of an over-achievement, and although rare, does happen. During the few times that I have received this artful greeting I felt like Charlie Bucket finding the last golden ticket, as I ripped my way eagerly into the envelope.

Anyway, the day always seems to sneak up on me, but not this time.....oh no, not this time. I have included the Wolfer Christmas letter for all of you, my friends, who are reading this.

THIS year, I volunteered to write the Christmas letter ....just moments after Melissa told me that I was. Actually, we discussed what to do and looked at several options. We even thought about recycling last year's letter and sending it out again. I mean, come on.... be honest, would you really have noticed? I can just imagine what some of the people who will be reading this letter will be thinking. You all will be admonishing Melissa and I for ever thinking of doing something as bad, and clearly criminal, as sending out a year old Christmas letter and trying to pass it off as a new one. Well, I must confess, thereby hopefully saving Melissa from any of the controversy surrounding the potential Christmas letter fraud, and admit that I used the word, "we", rather liberally. It was only myself who came up with the letter-recycling idea.  But now that I know that you know what I was thinking, and know that it won't work, I will proceed with a normally, and somewhat brief, letter of our past year.

In January, Melissa and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary by going to Maui, Hawaii for the first time. We loved it, at least I think we did, because we are having a hard time remembering if we actually went or just talked about it. This past year has gone by so fast that most things feel like they happened yesterday. Except for our 7-day vacation. It seems like a distant memory that lies right on the edge of consciousness, but that remains elusive. Thankfully Melissa took a lot of pictures that we can remind ourselves with. A return trip is most definitely called for.

We are in that time of life when there is a movement by our children to begin to abandon us....uh, I mean...stretch themselves and be on their own. The time seems to have come way too quickly, but Melissa and I are excited to see what the future has in store for them:

Kameron moved into an apartment with a friend from High School. He very successfully finished 2 years at Chemeketa, a community College in Salem Oregon, for which he had received a scholarship, and after taking 1 year off, decided to take classes at Western Oregon University. He is determined to not incur debt, and to move slowly by only taking at any one time what he can immediately pay for. He is also working hard at the same time and his Mother and I are very proud to see the kind of man that he is becoming. This year he turned 22.

Megan also started out at Chemeketa after also having received a scholarship. She spent her 1st year taking prerequisites, and then stumbled into what she hopes to be a promising career. She is heavily involved in ASL,(American Sign Language), and transferred to Western Oregon University half way through her sophomore year, is currently in her 3rd year, living in the dorms, and enjoying her time there and doing very well. She continues to work at her job at the Woodburn Outlet Mall one weekend a month so that she keep her standing there which will insure a full-time job in the summer. She stays with us, much to our enjoyment, on those weekends but returns to school in time for Monday classes. She is very active, and her Mother and I are very pleased to see the direction that she has clearly chosen. This year she turned 20.

And then there's Jessica who will be turning 18 in just a few months. She is a High School Senior, and has recently become our favorite teenager. From an early age Jessica established herself as the family entertainer and keeps us laughing with her various antics, impressions, and song parodies. She was chosen by the teachers and faculty at the school she attends to be in a small group of students from her class who will be in the Doernbecher Pageant. It is a annual event that raises money for the Children's Hospital, located in Portland Oregon. Gervais High School is one of the leading schools in Oregon for giving financially to this Institution, and Melissa and I are very excited for her as this is a great opportunity and a very fulfilling experience.

Well, that wraps it up from the Wolfer household, except to say that we wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I hope you all have a very warm, an enjoyable Holiday Season, and that you have all been good this last year!

Soapbox....Preaching To The Choir

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog: www.youtube.com/watch?v=kqBwCzRWmzo

Okay, that's it, I am going to have to climb up onto my soapbox, and anybody with a Neurological condition will understand why. This ranting, or observation...to put it more politely, is for everyone else that we encounter in our everyday lives out there in the general public. And before I go any further, I will point out that it is not a literal soapbox that I am climbing onto. To do that I would have to install grab bars first so that I could pull myself up, and once I got up there, I would need to have railings erected all the way around the soapbox so that I wouldn't fall off. The whole ordeal is really simply just to exhausting to even contemplate, so I am going to have to ask you, my readers, and listeners, (and those who are currently not doing either....figure that one out), to use your imagination and just simply envision that I am standing on a platform, when in reality I am really comfortably, and safely sitting in front of my computer.

The very subject of falling off a soapbox, when others who have a fully functioning Cerebellum and muscular system would be able to step right up without a problem, is the subject of this writing. Because, short of hiring a twelve-piece minstrel ensemble that includes a flute and a tambourine to march before me, announcing me with a little musical ditty, I'm really not sure of what else to do. By the way, that little musical number that I just mentioned? I envision it to go something like this:
                                 Herest doth come an Ataxian man-
                                           you really doth need be as polite ast thou can.......
                                 I know what yer thinkin-
                                           that this boy has been drinkin......
                                 That there's a reason he slurs-
                                           and that his sight doth blurs......
                                 But we are here as his defender-
                                           the lad is not on a bender....
                                 He simply has a condition-
                                           that should not raise your suspicion.....
                                 If you would take care of yourself-
                                           and not always assume the worst...
                                 If you would pay attention-
                                           and mind your affairs first....
                                 you would see no problem-
                                           indeed no need to fret......
                                 you could go on with your day-
                                           there would be no need to sweat!


It is frustrating to me, because most people will see someone miss step, or lose their balance, or act in any way that is outside  the perception of normal and just assume that they are drunk or under the influence of a drug. Since I have begun to struggle physically, I find that I do not immediately assume this to be the explanation when I see someone who is having a difficult time. I also know that probably eighty-five to ninety percent of the time that the cause for erratic behavior IS alcohol or drug related. In fact, public intoxication is a frequent happening, and most of the time people are correct in assuming that someone is behaving under the influence. Just the other night a woman was driving on the wrong side of the freeway close to where I live. She was drunk, and she ended up hitting and killing another driver.  Unfortunately a high percentage of the time, alcohol is a reasonable or feasible explanation, but certainly not in EVERY circumstance.

I know that my little blog is going to do nothing to change the public perception, but for those of us who are affected, or are physically compromised in some way, I would urge you to give people the benefit of the doubt because you know what it's like. Enough said, I am going to step down from my figurative soapbox now. Be safe everyone, and again, thank you to all....your support and friendship is very appreciated.

,

Leftovers, No Matter How They're Reheated.

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog:www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd5LfzyikFM

It was just a little bit over a year ago when I decided to begin writing a blog about my life. I have to say that of all the things that I have tried over the years, writing about my daily walk with Ataxia,(along for the ride.....I just can't seem to give it the slip), has really helped me to change my view of the everyday events in my life. I am forever looking at daily happenings and common,(for me), occurrences and thinking that they could be potential blogs. A lot of writings were started, and a few of those ideas did not make it all the way to a finished product. For one reason or another, I would have a thought or concept spark in my mind, and some initial thoughts were put down, but they were never finished. Either it was because I got distracted, or moved on to something else. Several times it was because I would write something in the development of a particular thought, only to realize that if I kept what I had just written down, that it would completely change where I thought I would go with that blog. I would then start a whole new writing based on what I had just come up with, and I would never get back to the original thought. Anyway, I have dug some of them out, and considered developing them into something more. Instead, I decided to leave them as is and submit several of them to you in much the same way that you would clean out your refrigerator,(I am hoping that you do this more than once a year), and have leftover-night. I am crossing my fingers that I have reheated something that you will like.......

1. But, Then Again......

There are still days when it really doesn't seem that it was that long ago, twelve years, when I was blissfully unaware of what Ataxia was. But, then again, there are still days when I am blissfully unaware, period. There are also still days when I can't believe that I have been able to come as far as I have, but, then again, I can't believe that I eventually passed my driver's exam, or that I can shuffle into a dark bathroom in the middle of the night without doing serious injury to myself or without making so much noise that I wake all up the neighborhood dogs. It seems that in a blink of an eye time has taken a large step forward, and suddenly I find myself standing, (or falling) , in a place that I never saw coming or ever imagined that I would be in. But, then again, if I had, I would have been in possession of insider knowledge, and possibly would have placed, and won, some very large bets.

2. Bent Out Of Shape.

It always happens...it just ALWAYS seems to be the case! I am forever snagging, and/or snaring my pants pockets on cabinet door handles, which results in the knobs being completely bent into shapes that any artist who makes balloon animals would be proud of. I will be standing at the sink or counter and think of something I need to do. I will begin to move, but be snapped back into my original position because I have attached myself to the cabinet via the knob, and my now slightly ripped pants. Or the other thing that I do, thanks to my newly compromised Cerebellum, is totally misjudge the opening that the car door provides. This will usually result in getting my pants pockets hooked by the protruding latch in the door frame and ripping them when I fall into the driver's seat. I have torn several pairs of pants in exactly this manner, and I am still waiting to find any humor in it whatsoever.

3. Left Feeling Ripped Off.

Like with any other event, or traumatic experience that happens in life, my diagnosis and prognosis took awhile for me to process. There were several stages that I went through, and although a lot of the specifics of what I went through were kind of happening at the same time, I do remember some of my thoughts at that time. I remember thinking that it felt like I was being penalized for something that I really have no control over. As if I had chosen this. I was let go from my full-time job in May of 2012, not because I didn't want to work anymore. It wasn't because I wanted to sit at home, collect Social Security, and eat chocolate Bon-Bons all day. It was simply because my body was betraying me and I couldn't do what I had currently been doing. I also remember feeling embarrassed and somewhat awkward when I would meet someone for the first time.  I just knew that the inevitable question of what I did for a living would come up. I never knew exactly what to say, and I certainly did NOT want to launch into an explanation about my condition to just anybody. However, it felt weird to me not to give some kind of explanation as to why I was no longer working. There were occasions when I wanted to say something like, "because of the horrendous nature of my past crimes my parole states that I can have only limited exposure to public and this is the first time that I have been allowed back into the public, and it is on an experimental basis. But I have never actually said this and I still occasionally feel awkward and struggle in these situations.

4. A Life Lived On The Edge.

Well, I'll say one thing about having Ataxia, life is never dull. It means constant vigilance, and always watching out for tripping hazards, such as the flat ground. Or potential choking items, such as the air I breathe. I feel like I am in a constant training session, just like the scene in the first Batman movie starring Christian Bale, where he is told by his instructor to, "Always mind your surroundings".  This is actually pretty good advice, because my enemies are everywhere and are always ready to trip me at a moments notice. One of the problems that I face while walking is that I constantly drift. When I say drift I am not referring to the cool kind, like they do in cars in the movies, but a slow and methodical shuffle towards pending disaster. Usually, as my wife and I are out walking the dogs, she will have to remind me several times to stay away from the curb. When she and I walk side-by-side, I am constantly giving her the shoulder as I continue to slide sideways.

Well, those were just a few of the leftovers that I had in my writer's vault. If you would like to hear more via another reheating of leftovers let me know and I will revisit this format again in the future.

Sometimes, It's Just About The Small Things.

here is a link to the audio version, in case you would rather listen to this blog: www.youtube.com/watch?v=N9c0jYC2i2c


Ever since the official diagnosis of my physical disability, I feel as if I have been engaged in a huge wrestling match. A contest where I face a huge opponent, and I am seriously and woefully ill prepared, out-matched, and generally viewed as the under-dog's under-dog. And it is not like I can avoid this menacing adversary, because as luck sometimes will have it, I will be confronted two or three times a day, randomly, as I go about my own business. Whenever these chance meetings do happen though, I am forced to stop whatever I may be doing at the moment, and grapple for a while. The struggle may take two minutes, or it may take ten, but the point is that I am always engaged in the conflict. At this point, I cannot be sure that I am alone in this battle, but suspect that I am not, and so will call out my opponent so that you can possibly identify with me. He, or she, depending on how you look at it, and also accounting for individual tastes, is of course, the mini-candy bar. Or to be more precise, the wrapper that acts as a bullet and bomb-proof bunker, which hides and protects the sweetness within. I have been fighting in this war for awhile now, and although I haven't found the magic bullet yet, I continue the struggle.

I have found the mini candy bar to be an incredibly frustrating and deceptive creature. They lay in a bowl or sack with that perpetually innocent look about them. Always singing their seductive Siren's song as I walk by, as if to say, "Really, we mean you no harm".  But therein lies the trouble, because if I fall for their wiles,(and let's face it, I do every time because I have a sweet tooth, am a sucker for chocolate, and they just look so inviting), then there will just be another chapter added to the story of the epic battle that has been fought so, so many times in the past. I suppose, though, that I should be looking for a positive in all of this. I would have to say that within the difficulty, and by engaging the struggle to free the candy from it's wrapper, I am able to burn beforehand some of the calories that lay within, patiently waiting to ambush the unsuspecting. These are the same calories that I will soon be giving permission to come aboard, and join the other fat cells that are already in storage and feeling quite at home. Once I am finally able, that is, to tear the wrapper open and claim the prize within.

And it is within those moments of triumph that I resemble the person who has been engaged in a long, grueling game of Capture The Flag. After planning and strategizing for hours, and having finally gotten their hands on their opponent's flag, they wave it around in excitement, and in a showing of complete victory.

I have finally captured and freed the chocolate goodness from the clutches of the wrapper! But then.....the disappointment sets in, and I realize that I've been had. That I have fallen for the same trick, again. You see, these miniature candies are sneaky and they know that if they can get me to eat just one, I will not be satisfied with the postage-stamp sized chocolate. They also know that I will spend the next ten minutes engaged in a skirmish to unwrap enough minis to get a decent mouthful. Sometimes I think that maybe I should just write to the makers of M&Ms and see if they would ship me a fifty pound feed bag. I'm just saying that it sounds like it might be easier. The least that they could do, it would seem to me, is make a handicapped-accessible wrapper.