Almost a Derecho

I woke this morning to what sounded like a giant kicking the side of my home. I had a pretty good idea what it was, since the weather folks stated a line of thunderstorm would arrive near sunrise. They were right. It was 4:00 am, but the storms were much subdued from anticipated. The time was a big factor, since the lack of daytime heating reduced their strength. Still, within minutes, the electricity went off, and the little rechargeable flashlight I keep next to my bed went out before I could reach the larger flashlight I keep in the kitchen. I crept into the kitchen, felt around for the flashlight, and was rewarded with sight once again. It gets real dark in the boonies without electricity.

The wind was howling, and the rain was pounding the side of the house. My dog was panicking, and regardless of my words of consolation, he stared at me with the look I should be doing something to make it stop. Oddly, there was little lightning, and the thunder was low in the distance. 

The heaviest of the showers didn't last but a few minutes, but the radar on my cell-phone indicated it would last for hours. So, I went back to bed. My wife, my dog, and I, soon fell back asleep. 

The sound of my printer self-checking woke me at 9:00 am. My dog soon needed to go outside, so I let him into the yard. Porch furniture was blown over, and there are a multitude of small branches scattered around the trees. My rain gauge showed only two inches of rain fell, so the road out of the neighborhood will still be passable.

Radar is showing another band of shower approaching from the west. It's looking like most of the rain will pass to the south, and with the air still unsettled by the past thunderstorms, it's likely the weather won't be so bad. I'll take that. We've had enough rain, and the grass doesn't wait for the yard to dry.

In Memory Of

Somewhere, there are the bones of thousands of soldiers that were never accounted for. How they died is unknown, and all that is left is the memories of those that lost a family member; and as time goes on, the memories fade. Few remember the bright, promising young man that left in 1943 to Europe, or the Pacific, and never returned. His peers are all gone, and any children are now grandparents, or great-grandparents. 

This is the day we remember all that never came home. For those that encounter someone that doesn't have a clue about his day, educate them. They enjoy their barbeque, or cold beer, and don't know the significance of the day that is for remembering those that died so they could be free.  

After the Procedure

After 40 hours with only little Jell-O in my system, almost a gallon of water mixed with a witches-brew of glycols, with salts, my colonoscopy is over. I was supposed to drink the entire gallon, but I had to quit at around the last sixteen ounces. The stuff is brutal to drink, regardless of what anyone tells you. I did learn from a nurse that there is another way, which uses over the counter laxatives and water. She said it yields the same results, and is approved by the doctor that performed my colonoscopy. That's a good thing. 

The prep was a little different than the last procedure. One week stop on some medications, (blood thinners and such) three days without seeds, vegetables, and anything that is slow leaving the colon; one day clear liquids only; and a start at 4:00 pm with the prep liquid. Eight ounces every thirty minutes until the first half gallon is gone. Repeat the procedure starting at 10:00 pm, which leads to prepping to 1:30 am, and draining over the next few hours. With my 8:00 show up time, that left time for a cat-nap.

The results were good. No polyps, some diverticulosis (an inherited things according to the doctor) and a 7 year respite until the next procedure. That was welcome news, and according to the photos provided by the doctor, my colon is as shiny as a new car. I'm impressed. Then again, it was power washed twice in the last twelve hours before the procedure. As I told my wife before the second half: "The wash is over, but now it's time for the rinse cycle."

So it's over, I'm happy with the results, and with my calcium scan two weeks ago, I'm in good health for now. That test revealed no plaque in my heart, and a zero risk of heart disease. I'll take both, continue my bastardized health regimen, and go on as best as I can. The good lord has taken me this far for a reason, and it's up to me to continue.

Dealing With a Water Pump

We had a large project that took years to complete. We were a subcontractor, but even subcontractors had to list someone with TxDot as the supervisor. That was my job, and it meant more than one crew, and multiple locations. 

During the project, I would shift people to overcome downtime due to rain, and to pump water from an excavation. That's where Bob came in. 

We had a headwall for a box culvert partially completed. The footing was poured, but the walls weren't formed. I took Bob to the locations, with a water pump, which we placed near the excavation, and he connected to hoses already in place. I left a can of gasoline, and some oil, and went to check on another crew. 

After over an hour, I needed to go check on Bob, and see if the water was pumped down below the footing. It usually took about an hour, and if everything was as it was supposed to be, I could place some hands on site to start tying the reinforcing rod for the walls. Everything wasn't as it was supposed to be. 

I found Bob pulling on the pull rope, and trying to start the pump. Exhausted wasn't a good description. It was Summer, his face was red, and his pulls on the rope showed he was out of steam. 

I asked Bob if he ever had the pump running. I pretty well knew he hadn't. The water was still at the same level as when I left over an hour before. He told me it wouldn't start. 

"Does is have gas?"

"Yes. I filled the tank."

"Did you check the oil?"

Bob got that look where you already know the answer.

He immediately checked the oil, and found it was a little low Since he had put a short 2 x 4 under the pump to keep it from sinking, it had placed the pump a little out of level, and the low-oil shut-off had prevented the pump from starting.

Within a minute, we had added a little oil, leveled the pump, made sure the pump was primed, and the water was soon dropping in the excavation.

So, we lost an hour, and after that, Bob pretty well knew to check the oil before attempting to start a small engine. He already knew that, but for some reason, Bob wasn't really there that morning. That would happen every now and then, but usually he was a good hand, and was good to have on a crew.

 

They Moved My Appointment

My new appointment time for my colonoscopy is Monday the 18th at 8:00 am show-up time. It's a new place for me, but the doctor has the same name as a gastroenterologist that treated me during my gall-bladder fiasco in 2009. Maybe it's the same doctor, but I don't think so. He looks too young, so I have the feeling he's following in his father's footsteps to peer into the colons of patients. 

I will have to drink a gallon of a liquid that remarkably tastes like what I envision as the taste of battery acid. Truthfully, at the end of the gallon, I will probably again have the feeling I did drink a gallon of battery acid. I've done this before, and from what I've heard, the pills that do the same thing are not being used any longer due to incomplete cleaning. So, it's a gallon of liquid split over hours of sitting, and cleansing. 

Thinking about this, I remember a Dave Berry column about his procedure. Here it is for you enjoyment. 

Link