Losing What I Never Had

At any point in our lives we may face losing someone dear to us. People die, lives change and we have to deal with the ensuing sense of loss. For me, the emotions that go with this don’t so much diminish with time, but become something with which I learn to cope. I accept the sadness, and very real ache that goes with grief. With time I’m able to keep the sorrows under control. I know that certain memories, will include strong emotions, both happy and sad. Coping means learning when and how much I let those feelings loose. I try to focus on the happy parts of things, but I think that denying the sad parts would be unhealthy. I prefer to know what makes me sad instead of letting something buried cause me trouble. That is how I tend to deal with direct experiences of grief and loss.

I am mostly a pretty happy person. So it seems a little unusual for me to be introspective about what makes me sad. Perhaps its part of aging, but lately I seem to be more aware of the grief of people I know. I’m not turning into some sort of vicarious grief junky, but when someone loses someone I feel completely inadequate to explain my sympathy. A sister-in-law’s father passes, a brother’s friend is suddenly gone, and I feel a loss. I never knew the people who died. Yet I feel sorrow at their passing. Not just the sadness I feel because the people I know are grieving. I feel a loss. How can I feel loss over the demise of someone I didn’t know? This is different than sadness over the passing of some famous person I admire.

When someone I care for is grieving, I know they have lost someone important to them. Because they are gone, I will never have the chance to know for myself how special they were. If I am very lucky, the person close to me might share some of their positive experiences. So part of the loss I feel is the missed opportunity to know a unique person. Mortality means there are so many wonderful people I will never get to know. I don’t lose sleep over missed financial and career opportunities. There have been a few but those are things I never had. But I do feel some sadness over people I might have known.

From time to time I am asked to give a general toast. I first heard my favorite at a gathering of motorcyclists. “Here’s to absent friends,” was meant to include those who were unable to attend, living or dead. For me it has come to include friends I’ve known and those I dearly wish I had.

Ben

Calgary, 4 February 2012

Join the Club

On Halloween this year I became a member of a special group of people. Some of you may have heard of this group but most people don’t discuss them or what goes on with them. It wasn’t something I’d planned on doing until I was made aware of the benefits of joining. This group is not like Toastmasters, you can’t just sign up and pay a small fee and be a member. While the members come from all walks of life, every ethnicity, religion, political party and age group only a specific number of people are allowed to join in a year. I was chosen ahead of a long waiting list of applicants. The cost to join this group can run as high as $5,000. I am very honoured to say I got to join for free. Even so, I would recommend anyone that can qualify should join.

As I mentioned not everyone gets to join. You have to have a referral from a prestigious professional member of society. Then you have to go through a screening process to make sure you are a suitable candidate from among the thousands of applicants. There is no simple voting in a member and a brief induction oath. This initiation was very different.

After passing a qualifying exam, I drank a bucket of slime, went to a special place where some nice young ladies drugged me, then a guy inserted things in me and gave me a tattoo. Finally a young lady asked me to break wind. Furthermore I encourage other people to do this?

I’m pulling your leg a bit. There is no club or secret society. The group I joined was the people who have visited the Forzani MacPhail Colon Cancer Screening Centre for a colonoscopy. The Forzani MacPhail Colon Cancer Screening Centre is a cooperative effort by the University of Calgary and Foothills Hospital. Its purpose as its name suggests is providing cancer screening to people in Southern Alberta. They process approximately 10,000 people per year. A colonoscopy is the best way of detecting possible colon cancer early.

There is a waiting list for colonoscopy in Alberta of about of about 13,000 people. After a referral from my doctor (the prestigious professional) I went for an initial consultation (the qualifying part). Because of my family history and some changes in the way I was “performing” I was placed near the top of the list and given instructions on preparing for the colonoscopy. In Alberta, if you qualify getting scoped is free. In places without government health care it can cost over $5,000 without medical insurance.

The part I described as preparation involved changing to a low fibre diet with some additional restrictions for a few days. The day before the exam, I had to drink two liters of something known as PEG (the bucket of slime). Then I had to drink another two liters on the morning of the exam. PEG (polyethylene glycol) is a powerful purgative. Within minutes it had begun the process of cleaning my system rapidly and completely.

I arrived at the Forzani McPhail Colon Cancer Screening Centre a half hour before my scheduled exam as requested. I changed into one of those weird hospital gowns then some very nice technicians confirmed I had completed my prep and administered a sedative and anesthetic intravenously. After a short wait I was wheeled into the exam room.

Colonoscopy involves inserting a long thin tubular instrument into the rectum and threading it all the way through the colon. The colon is about six feet long. We new we had arrived at the far end when they showed me my appendix, and the opening to the small intestine. I never thought I’d get to wave hello to my own appendix. The colon is inflated with air and examined via a video scope. I was able to watch the whole thing on a large screen TV. During my exam, the doctor found a two centimeter polyp and removed it. This was sent for a biopsy and we are awaiting results. The site was injected with a blue die to facilitate checking it at a later date. So now I have a secret tattoo.

After the exam I was taken to the recovery area and told by one of the nice young ladies that I would not be released until I released some of the air. She even obliged by pulling my finger. I was released after about another half-hour. The next day I felt like I had a tequila and bad chili hangover, without the fiesta. But it was worth the very slight discomfort.

I did this because I am 52 and my father passed away as the result of a massive undetected colon cancer that spread to his liver and his lungs. Apparently he must have been ill without knowing it (or put up with a variety of symptoms) for a long time before he said anything to anyone. In the years since my dad died I’ve learned a bit about colon cancer and its treatment.

First of all, about 15 to 20% of people will develop colon polyps at some point in their life. About 6% of those people will have the polyps turn into cancer. 40% of those people die like my dad because of their undetected cancer. Polyps and colon cancer do not usually present symptoms until advanced stages. So the only way to find them early is to look for them.

Lets look at it this way:

Calgary has about 1,000,000 people.

15% of them will get polyps =150,000.

6% of those people will get cancer = 9000.

40% would die of undetected cancer = 3600

That is the bad news. The good news is that colon cancer is easily cured if it is detected early. Usually all that is required is removing the polyp the way mine was. A colonoscopy will detect 95% of polyps. So early detection could drop the number of colon cancer fatalities to 180 out of 1,000,000.

Many people do not talk to their doctor about this sort of thing because they are embarrassed by it. The really sad thing is my dad might be alive today if he had suffered a little embarrassment. Don’t be shy. Talk to your doctor. Get scoped. Join the club

Seeking Eureka

A naked man ran through the streets shouting “Eureka! Eureka!” It was the third century BC in Syracuse Greece. The frantic streaker was Archimedes a mathematician and engineer. His bizarre behavior was triggered by a sudden insight that provided an answer he was seeking. While sitting in his bath, he noticed that an object immersed in a liquid displaces a volume of liquid equal to the volume of the object. This excited him so much that he leaped from his bath and ran out screaming “Eureka!” Archimedes’ exclamation “Eureka” has become synonymous with moments of inspiration or insight.

Inspiration happens when we have an experience that causes us to think, feel or do something extraordinary. It is most likely to occur in a mind that is open, imaginative, curious. These are all traits of a creative mind.

I believe all of us should develop our creativity and seek our own “eureka” moments. It is also very important to do so.

The arts such as painting, or music, may stimulate us, but inspiration is not limited to artistic expression. Invention and discovery are the practical result of applied imagination.

The airplane is an example of an invention made using inspiration and creative thinking. Orville and Wilbur Wright were bicycle mechanics who decided to build a flying machine. They did not have the money or qualifications of some of their competitors. One of their biggest challenges was control of stability in flight.  Then Wilbur noticed that birds continuously change the shape of their wings to control themselves. This inspired the Wright brothers to create a system of wing warping that allowed their flyer to make the first manned, powered flight. It wasn’t funding that made the difference at Kitty Hawk, or engineering credentials. It was Wilbur’s “eureka” moment while watching birds manipulate their wings.

Albert Einstein said “Imagination is more important than knowledge.”

I have some experience with trying to develop a more active imagination. I have worked for over 20 years as a designer in the printing industry. Early in my career, I began trying to master desk-top publishing.  That by itself is a never ending story. Eventually I realized I had all these fantastic new techniques but I was struggling to find ideas. At times a blank page seemed like a void, vast and intimidating. My modest spark of creative energy flickered desperately to fill the void with an idea.

I couldn’t afford to look at a page that way. I began searching for ways to become more creative.  One of my “eureka” moments came the first time I told myself  “The universe is in a state of continuous creation and I am part of it.  Therefore I am allowed to participate.” Then I started writing whatever came into my head, anything and everything.  This is free writing. I still do it. Sometimes, what comes out is surprising. Occasionally it’s bizarre. Maybe I shouldn’t be free writing in the bathtub. However, practicing this helps me turn that page from an empty void into a window that opens onto a universe filled with wonderful ideas.  

Is it possible for you to become more creative? Yes! Of course, any self-improvement takes some effort. For example, to gain knowledge you have to study. If I want a sculpted body, I have to hit the gym – a lot. Similarly, developing and maintaining a creative mind also requires work, but most of it is fun. Thankfully, there are many resources that will provide you guidance and exercises to develop and flex your creative “muscles”. The effort pays off in enhanced perception and experience, which generate ideas. 

Remember this is not limited to artistic expression. Thomas Edison said, “Genius is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration.” You may find new ways to tweak more horsepower out of a Corvette. You may find a winning approach to handling a tough client.  You – what will you find?

I believe that everyone can participate in creation and experience the joy of inspiration. This is important because the challenges that face humanity require imaginative solutions. There are infinite opportunities to apply your unique perception to “what if?” and find your own “Eureka” experience.  The running about naked – that’s optional.

Rude People

If someone came to your home and was insulting to your family, you would probably ask them to stop, or leave. Insult my wife in my home and you’ll get a flying lesson off my porch. Similarly in a business situation deliberately rude people should not be tolerated. They should be politely told how to modify their behavior and if they don’t comply they should be told to leave. No one should be required to endure abuse.

A few years ago I helped run an annual fundraising event that involved over 1,000 participants with nearly 600 of them camped on site for the weekend. Almost all of them were bikers. On Saturday morning the Security Manager, Mr. H and I arrived at the front gate and found the admission volunteer dealing with an abusive lady. The volunteer (a first timer) was trying to explain the new requirement that everyone had to wear a wristband to be on site. The woman was indignantly, loudly, in very colorful language, expressing that she had attended the event for years and didn’t need to do anything. Anybody that mattered knew her. She was also calling into question the intellect and parentage of the volunteer. Mr. H stepped up and reasonably pointed out that everyone was wearing the bracelets indicating his and mine. This elicited another hissy-fit of profanity.

Mr. H said to the volunteer, “Okay. Don’t giver her a bracelet, give her money back. She’s barred.” The woman shrieked “What? You can’t do that.” Mr. H loomed close to her looking grim, pointed at the sign that read “NO PETS. NO KIDS. NO ATTITUDES.” And growled “Leave!” she vanished.

I guess I should mention that Mr. H was about 6’ tall, around 300 lbs and looked like a tattooed, bearded, Shrek dressed in denim and black leather.

Mr. H knew the woman from various past events. She always acted as if the normal rules of behavior didn’t apply to her. She was rude and disruptive. Mr. H realized that the revenue gained from that person was not going to be worth the disturbance if everyone was exposed to her foul behavior. Mr. H made the correct decision to fire the customer.

Not everyone has Mr. H’s physical gifts for handling rude people. A small average person isn’t going to be able to intimidate with a hard look and a few words. Sometimes a sense of humor is an even better tool.

When I was a young fellow working in a plumbing supply warehouse my duties included restocking returned parts. One client looked at his return slip and said “Hey you didn’t put that pipe on here.” I told him we can’t take returns on cut pipe and pointed to the large sign in the loading area that said this. He blew up. He immediately became abusive, called me all sorts of things and demanded to see the manager. I took him to the order desk and introduced him to the manager Mr. J.

The customer was a large man that looked like John Wayne. Mr. J was small and dapper, dressed in his usual 3-piece suit. The customer immediately began to bluster and cause a disturbance. When the man paused, Mr. J calmly told him we can’t take back cut pipe.

“Well you can take that pipe and stick it up your behind” yelled the customer.

Mr. J looked a bit sad and then very clearly and audibly said, “Unfortunately there is a fellow with a twelve foot farm gate and two rolls of barbed wire ahead of you.”

Silence. Then the 20 other customers burst into spontaneous laughter and applause. The abusive customer departed taking his pipe with him. J not only realized he had to fire the customer, he did it in such a way that he immediately repaired the disruption the outburst had caused.

Dealing with rude people is STRESSFUL. They are often UNCOOPERATIVE and this is UNPLEASANT. Often the CONCEIT that leads them to believe that accepted rules don’t apply to them causes CONFUSION and CHAOS. Really, they ought to KNOW better.

Rude people SUCK.

Riding to Belknap

Margaret switched off her bike, pulled off her helmet and peeled off her jacket. By the time I had my bike on its centre-stand, my wife and riding partner had scampered across the parking lot, and was spinning in a merry jig under a sprinkler. The joyful display was an expression of her delight at her return to Belknap Hot Springs Resort in Oregon. She also might have dashed under the sprinkler because it had been a long, hot ride from our home in Calgary to Belknap – 2000 kilometers in two and a half days.

Margaret had visited Belknap on a solo ride two years previously, and had regaled me with enthusiastic descriptions of the region and the resort’s hot pools and gardens. When I managed to schedule a two-week vacation to coincide with hers, she started planning a long loop through Washington and Oregon. Daily distances were planned to allow for our bikes – Margaret’s Suzuki 650 Burgman and my Suzuki 650 V-Strom. We had to acknowledge that both bikes are capable of more endurance than our physical condition – or in my case lack thereof.

Packing and maintenance got delayed until the last minute. So, we departed Calgary enroute to Creston, British Columbia, late on a Saturday afternoon. Our late start caused us to cross the Crowsnest Pass at dusk. The last few kilometers into Creston were ridden under a quarter moon. Mist drifted out of the forest and it seemed like deer were waiting around every other curve. Thankfully both bikes have excellent headlights, although mine seemed to be aimed high. We made it to our hotel, tired but safe.

Sunday morning I remembered the suspension adjustment on the V-Strom was still at the factory setting. This explained my slightly misaligned headlights and some vague handling. After redialing my suspension to allow for a fat fifty year-old Viking with extra baggage, we were away again.

We crossed the border into the United States at Porthill and rode south past farms and forests. As we traveled through Sandpoint and Spokane we had to pay more attention to traffic than the scenery. However, it was apparent that the forest thinned out as we went west from Spokane. We left the freeway and the trees behind at Ritzville and turned south on Hwy 395, which winds through the low hills of the Columbia Plateau. This is dry-land farm country, with occasional rugged scablands caused by ancient erosion. By mid-afternoon the temperature hovered between 37 and 39 degrees Celsius. We both felt it was country to be crossed rapidly, not a place to linger. Even at 100+ kilometers per hour we could feel the heat radiating off the pavement. I amused myself by watching people’s reactions when they realized what Margaret was riding and how fast she was traveling. Margaret insists the Burgman is really a 650cc sport-touring motorcycle that looks like a scooter.

In our hotel in Kennewick we heard that we were in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave. Temperatures between 37 and 45 degrees Celsius were expected in the Pacific Northwest for the next week. Most of our riding gear was appropriate to the cooler wetter climate of the coastal mountains.

We set out on Monday morning to ride Interstate 84 along the south bank of the Columbia River, then cross the southern part of the Columbia Plateau before heading into the Cascade Mountains. The eastern Columbia River is an impressive body of water, more like a long narrow lake that winds through a, steep sided valley. Along the river, extensive irrigation produces a thriving agricultural valley. Near Boardman we passed an enormous tree farm. We cruised past perfectly spaced rows of tall, mature poplars. The rhythmic interplay of light and space between the trees was like some surreal scene from a science fiction movie. Later we paused for a short break at the John Day Dam and watched a tug and barge enter the locks. Watching the Columbia spill over the dam, gave us a sense of the enormous expense and effort expended to control the river.

At Biggs we detoured north across the Sam Hill Memorial Bridge, to visit a smaller but unusual piece of construction. Above Maryhill, a life size concrete replica of Stonehenge stands on an outcrop. It was constructed between 1918 and 1930 by Sam Hill, a prominent local landowner, as a memorial to several young local men who died in World War One. Standing in the mid-day heat, above irrigated vineyards and the vast river, this Stonehenge seemed about as far from the original on Salisbury Plain as it could be.

After fuel, food and air-conditioning in Biggs, we turned south on Highway 97. The road climbed out of the river gorge on a series of switchbacks, then stretched out through the heat haze across the Columbia Plateau. The arid hills and prairie seemed even more desolate than what we had crossed the day before. I was grateful I was crossing them at 100 kilometers per hour on a motorcycle, not at 20 kilometers per day on a wagon like the settlers on the Oregon Trail. I was also happy I was on a motorcycle, not on one of the road crews that stopped us twice. Still, the unrelieved expanse reminded me that I don’t like semi-desert, and I don’t feel it is improved by record-breaking heat.

With anticipation and relief we turned west at Redmond. We were relieved to be back in country with some vegetation taller than tumbleweeds and we were anticipating cooler temperatures in the Cascades Mountains. At Sisters we stopped for fuel and were informed by a friendly gas station attendant that Hwy 242 between Sisters and McKenzie Bridge is very scenic and a lot of fun on a motorcycle. Unfortunately it was closed for construction.

We had to detour northwest through the Santiam Pass. Highway 126 curved north, then west through open Ponderosa and White Bark Pine forest on the eastern slopes of the Cascades Mountains. As we crossed the pass, occasional piles of black basalt rubble and the surrounding conical peaks of Three Fingered Jack and the Three Sisters reminded us that we were in a volcanic range. When we turned south again the forest gradually changed to tall Douglas Firs and Western Hemlock as we wound south along the Mackenzie River Valley. After the long hot day on the open plain it was a joy to ride curve after curve through shady forest. However, the heat had not abated even in the mountains. When we rolled up the driveway into Belknap Hot Springs, Margaret found that sprinkler to good to resist.