Thoughts

Have you ever heard the expression "burning the candle from both ends"? It was always used in my presence in the context of doing too much; staying up too late and getting up too early in the morning. I am often told that I burn the candle from both ends when I try to fit too many activities into too little time. Unlike many people my age, I do not work 60-80-100 hours each week, but I do fill my dance card pretty well. I manage to get 4-6 hours of sleep each night during the week, though every once and awhile I will pick a day to sacrifice. I will go to sleep at roughly 6PM and sleep through the night and recharge my batteries. I think I may need to do that tonight.

I had planned to go to bed relatively early last night. After my exams ended on Sunday afternoon I have been wishing for a day of rest, though I am too stubborn to take a day off from work. The most I can hope for is a chance to be at home, in bed, ready for sleep at a decent hour. That was planned last night, though it never came through. In no way, however, am I disappointed.

Friends and family joined me for dinner last night at one of my favorite restaurants. We had a great meal, some relatively interesting conversation and one or more laughs. My plan was to enjoy dinner out and then go straight home and try to settle in for the evening. It was a great idea in theory, all until Josh had to ask where we were going after dinner.

What is nice is that when something happens, rest assured one of two people will either be blamed for the event itself or having some bizarre influence over causing the effect. You can always know, if not me, then Josh. I will need heavy doses of caffeine today, and I blame Josh. It was his idea to go out, so I point the finger at him, but the stories are great and he gets the credit.

It is not a secret that I have a hard time saying "no" when invited to go out. Most opportunities to do so excite me. There was no surprise, to me anyway, that I abandoned my plan for sleep in favor of going out after dinner. And you know why? No good stories ever come from being in bed early. You do not always get good stories from the bar, but at least the potential is there. Sometimes you have to roll the dice. Last night, my horse came in.

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I drink what is safely my daily requirement for water. I have a bottle that I refill at various strategic times throughout the day. When I go to restaurants, maybe you should just leave the pitcher. It will save you a good deal of effort.

I have never worked in the food service industry, maybe therein lies the source of my confusion. If you do not leave me the pitcher and then refill my water glass when you see it empty, would you not prefer to minimize the amount of trips? Do you honestly enjoy noticing that yet again my glass is empty so that you may fill it once more? I'm not much of a betting man, but I would wager you do not. Your time would probably be more enjoyed if you were sitting on a stool in the kitchen watching time pass than refilling my water.

Here is a tip. This one is on the house. When you are now refilling my water for the umpteenth time and 85% of the space inside the glass is occupied by ice cubes, that is ridiculous. Stop giving me more ice each time you refill my water. Just stop. I know you want to make sure my water is ice cold so I might enjoy it more thoroughly, but truth be told I do not let it last that long in most instances. All you are doing is creating more work for yourself because I am able to drain the glass more quickly because there is less water in it to begin with as less fits in between all of those lovely ice cubes.

Yes, I honestly get worked up over this.

I have lived with it and not said a word. I have stood idly by and held my tongue. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. Or even that someone else would come forward. It may be my guilt for not stepping up to the plate before, or perhaps I just can't take it anymore. I have lived with this bottled up inside for so long. I need to say something. And the time is now.

There is a lot of emotion swirling around in my head surrounding this topic. If my thoughts come out too sporadically, I apologize in advance. For you see, I have these flashbacks. There are images burnt into my mind that I am not sure, even with therapy, could ever go away.

There is a place you go, where you are not alone. People are watching. Whether they want to admit it or not, their eyes fall upon you. You need to be mindful of that. You need to always respect the fact that though not everyone can get to where you are, enough people can. They...we...have feelings, too. Please keep that in mind.

I don't mean to single you out. You may not think it's fair. It may even be considered discrimination for me to make one post about no one else but naked old men in the locker room at the gym. If that is the case, let the consequences be what they may.

If you are walking from the shower to your locker, I can deal with that. You're in the men's locker room. It is relatively acceptable for you to walk your bare wrinkled old man body around when you have reason to be au natural. What I cannot take anymore is the other things you do.

You sit on the bench. Naked. With no towel underneath you. Sure, in 15 minutes no one will ever know. You'll be dressed and on your way home by then. But for a few minutes after you get up, you've left your mark. There it is. The pressed ham. Maybe we can plead with the gym to not use such a shiny finish on the benches. Then perhaps we won't see the autograph your butt has signed in steam for the world to see.

You stand at the mirror. Shaving. Naked. Really naked. It gets even worse when you lean up against the counter to get a closer look at your whiskers.

Dude...

I was debating whether or not to share this one with you. In the end I thought it was best. You should know. You have the right to know. My disclaimer here is that I take no responsibility for any infliction of emotional distress. If you have a weak stomach, stop reading. If you take heart medication or are a pregnant female, turn away now.

I went to the gym last week to play basketball. That is the little exercise I get these days and I don't make it up there as often as I would like. If this is what I can expect, maybe I will have to take up inline skating...

After a few hours on the court (mostly breathing heavy and/or waiting for my turn to play) I shower at the gym. Not uncommon by any means. Have you ever had a pain that starts in your eyes and then scatters throughout your brain? Well I hadn't, not until I left the shower that day. On the day in question as I was walking from shower back to my locker I froze like a deer in headlights...

At the first bench there was an old man sitting. I see more out of the corner of my eye as I turn. At first I have an overwhelming feeling of exuberance flood my body. This man is sitting on his towel! You sir, are an example for others to follow. Good show. The feeling did not last. After that initial moment my eyes focus.

Here he sits. This old man. Naked. On his towel, sure. His leg is propped up on the locker and he is, I kid you not, oscillating a blow dryer between his legs. Maybe this man's grapes are insured by Lloyd's of London and are too delicate for the industry standard towel treatment. I don't want to have the conversation with you, sir, as to why your huevos rancheros are deserving of such pampered treatment. I just want you to not do that out in public.

I hate to imagine this as epidemic, but I am not so foolish as to think this happens only at my gym. Old men everywhere are rubbing their naked naughty parts on things. And we can do nothing but sit and watch while it goes on.

Wow that sounded gross.

Just please remember to be mindful of others around you. You are not alone. We can see you. And nobody wants to do that.

August 13, 2005.

On that Saturday, Richard and three close friends were body surfing in Manasquan, NJ. Richard was a strong, experienced swimmer, but on this day, he was unable to successfully pull up and out of a very powerful wave, which drove him headfirst into the bottom of the sea floor, breaking his neck.

His longtime friend, Scott, who was swimming nearby, saw him face down in the water and motionless. Knowing something was wrong; Scott quickly swam over to him and rolled him over. Richard then tried to explain that he couldn't move his body. His other friends swam over to help also and fought the pounding waves to get Richard to shore, which was no easy task.

He was taken to the trauma unit at Jersey Shore Medical Center. Richard received his first operation within six hours of the injury in order to stabilize his spine. The surgeon explained that Richard sustained a spinal cord injury to his C4 and C5 vertebrae. In fact, Richard's C5 vertebrae had been shattered. Two days later, Richard received his second surgery, which replaced his C5 by inserting a metal cage in his spinal cord to support the C4 and C6 vertebrae.

Richard was admitted to Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in West Orange, NJ four days following the second surgery. After only one week at Kessler, Richard was rushed to St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, NJ, because his oxygen level and pulse rate were dangerously low. He then battled serious respiratory issues including a collapsed right lung. Ever the fighter, Richard bounced back quickly and was re-admitted to Kessler the next week. He is still currently recovering at Kessler, where he receives physical and occupational therapy anywhere from four to six hours a day, six days a week.

Richard has strong shoulder, bicep and wrist movement. He is able to feed himself, brush his teeth, use a cell phone, and turn pages while reading a book, among other things. He has sensation everywhere in his body and remains optimistic that new pathways will be found in order to recover the rest of his mobility.

I met Rich in college. We've been friends since our Freshman year. I cannot say enough about who he is, but I will say a few things. He is truly the most good natured person I have ever met. Never too shy to entertain an entire room, he kept us in good spirits for our four years of school. Always there with a kind word, he's the kind of guy you would want to date your daughter. He has given so much to everyone he has met and never asked for a thing in return.

Tragic is the only word I can think to use to describe the accident at the beach this summer. My demons surrounding the lack of attempts I have made to contact him directly since the accident are my own, but he has had close friends by his side at all times and they have kept me apprised of his rehabilitation. I cannot and will not try to imagine how difficult this has been not only on Rich, but also his friends and family. I know how hard it has been for me so many miles away from New Jersey; each day wanting to ask someone how he is. I do not want to be a bother to anyone or pester them for information and I have actually hid behind that, using it more as an excuse than a reason. Thankfully another of Rich's friends has set up a website for everyone to watch Rich get better.

http://www.richardtravia.org/

Keep him in your thoughts, or prayers if you are so inclined. He's in mine. And Rich, I hope to see you soon, buddy.