Freedom!

Not much time to blog today as I'm just back from a doctor's visit and soon to be off for my son's piano concert, but I just HAD to get a short one in to share in my jubilation.

Remember the doctor's visit I was just telling you about? If not, reread the first sentence (paragraph?) Well, it was no ordinary visit. It was a follow-up visit with my infectious disease doctor, which not only means it was "free" but also a day I've been eagerly anticipating for 6 weeks now.

Just 15 minutes ago, I got my PICC line removed, which means I am a free man, liberated from the the antibiotic tether that has been part of me for too, too long. Unfettered from the medicine canister that resembles a baby bottle for 24 hours a day, I will no longer wince in pain at night as I roll over on top of it. No longer do I have to take a shower with cellophane wrapped around my arm. No longer do I have to worry about getting the tubing hooked on doorknobs and doorstrikes as I move about. No longer do I have to wear a fanny pack. No longer will people have to wonder if that is a "Dossifuser" in pocket or if I am just happy to see them.

I currently don't have the words or the time to fully express my happiness, especially in an entertaining, humorous way. The ONLY negative part of the whole experience is that the PICC line installers never gave me the "card" that has the PICC line length on it, nor did anyone in Radiology have a record of it when the doctor called over. She pulled it out any way (an impressive 44 units) but had no way to know if the extraction length was the same as the insertion length. I assured her I didn't stretch it while I had it, but that wasn't the issue. Apparently, there's a risk of a piece of the tip breaking off and plugging something downstream from my heart.

YIKES!

I asked her what the procedure was if something WAS still in there. She wasn't sure, but she thought it would involve a cardiac surgeon. We agreed that it was very unlikely mine had broken off since I was such a good patient and since I would probably feel some sort of discomfort, pain, or other traumatic side effect. Nonetheless, she was professionally obligated to order a chest X-ray to make sure.

What the heck. I was looking for an excuse to go visit all my friends in Radiology again. I think I'm going to ask them why I never got the "card." Besides, all my deductibles and Max out-of-pocket expenses have been met, so a "free" chest X-ray is like a "bonus" gift.

Right now, there's nothing that can dampen my spirit!!!!!!!

Even water.

Excuse me now why I go take care of the copper pipe leak in the wall behind my shower before I go listen to a bunch of kids play their slow, broken versions of "Up on the Housetop."

Oh, it feels so good to be free!

Christmas Spirit

We are in the midst of the holiday season, but are you in the holiday spirit? If so, at what point did you "get" there? If not, when, if ever, will you "be" there? Don't tell me you're the "Bah Humbug" type.

At my house, Halloween usually marks the beginning the holiday season as we enter into the final two months of the year and unpredictably cooler temperatures. We know that after the costumes are taken off, it is time not only to empty last year's Halloween candy from the candy jar to make room for the new candy, but it means that Thanksgiving and Christmas are on the near horizon. At this point, my holiday spirit crescendos from "pianissimo" to "mezzo-piano." But still, with no Thanksgiving carols to sing, I've still a long way to go to fully get into the spirit.

But this year, my holiday spirit was jump started by the local hospital. If you've been reading my blogs, (start the entire story here) you know I recently spent a lot of time (and money) there. With the last of my of 6 surgeries on October 31, I was released on Tuesday, November 4th. As I was being wheeled out by the nurse, we passed by the gift shop which was festooned with the usual Christmas decor: trees lights, Nutcracker dolls, and fragile, overpriced ceramic snowmen. Being in the hospital for 11 consecutive days, I thought I might have gone through a time warp or slipped into a coma for a while. I glanced at my watch to verify what time, day, and month it actually was. Sure enough, Thanksgiving was still three weeks away, but Thanksgiving doesn't sell as well as Christmas, so I guess it DID make sense. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard "Jingle Bells" accompanied by the sounds of cash registers. Suddenly I emerged into the bright, hot sunlight and I knew that it was November in Texas. More importantly, I knew I was finally getting the heck out of there for good. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays." I felt my spirit elevate to straight "piano" level.

Back at home, the holiday spirit took a back seat to pure, unadulterated joy of just sleeping in my own bed (thicker than the 4 inch, plastic mattress of the hospital), taking in the familiar smells of home, and navigating on crutches through the maze of toys and shoes sprinkled throughout the house. Once I got settled in, the spirit rose to "mezzo-forte," a level that was almost noticeable, as we began decorating the house with the colors of Autumn (you can tell a lot about a person by whether he uses the word "Autumn" or "Fall." What it tells you, I don't really know . . ., but I know with a bad knee, I didn't want to think about the word "Fall.") The entire family enjoyed my homecoming, and we celebrated by putting out our Thanksgiving decorations: the ceramic turkey on the fireplace mantle and the colored pictures of the cornucopias my kids made at school on the refrigerator.

Then, wouldnt' you know, a cool front blew through for a half day and the weather outside turned a bit chilly, not "I need a coat" chilly, but rather, "oooh, I'm not sweating" chilly. Walking outside in this type of weather in the early morning on the crunchy brown, dead grass with a warm cup of coffee in one hand and a cane in the other brings me closer to feeling the spirit with each new labored step.

Then came Thanksgiving, a day I really look forward too, not only because of all the delicious food, but because by that time of year, I'm practically BURSTING on the inside from all my pent-up thanks. It's nice to have a day that provides an outlet for all that gratitude. With the food still digesting in my satiated, distended stomach, the holiday spirit hit me hard as I saw the Dallas Cowboys' football game got underway. As the game went to its first commercial, Joe Buck and Troy Aikman, the game's commentators explicitly wished me "Happy Holidays." Their unselfish thoughtfulness sent my heart into sappy, sentimental palpitations. Those are the same two guys I had spent many a Sunday with in the hospital. Now here we were together on the outside. Somewhere in the back of my head I heard "Joy to the World" as my spirit reached "forte."

Since then, as my health has improved, so has my holiday spirit. Listening to Christmas music, attending the kids' Christmas programs, doing some Christmas shopping, Christmas decorating, Christmas Egg Nog drinking, watching a little Christmas television programming on the tube, and the exciting prospect of Christmas bonuses never to come has my spirit rapidly ascending to a fevered pitch. Going through the blow-in fliers of the newspapers with the kids is an inexpensive, fun activity too. As we look through the pages of the Target, Wal-Mart, Toys R Us, and Victoria's Secret catalogs, my son circles nice practical gifts like socks, video games we BOTH enjoy, and the models in the Lingerie catalog. My daughter on the other hand circles everything that is pink, purple, pertains to Hannah Montana, and everything that is NOT pink, purple, or pertains to Hannah Montana.

But being an astute dad with tons of hospital bills to pay and a limited budget for Christmas gifts this year, I have more insightful ways to learn what my kids REALLY want for Christmas by listening very carefully to what they sing about. My son has discovered Mariah Carey's "All I Want For Christmas Is You," and my daughter can't get enough of Gayla Peevey's "I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas." As they sing them over and over and over and over again in the car and at home and in stores and in my sleep, my spirit rises to the same "fortissimo" level at which the kids are singing the songs, but then decrescendos a bit after hearing each song for the 10th consecutive time.

If there is any veracity in their lyrical wishes, I am comforted by how easy it will be to fulfill my son's Christmas wish. In fact, just by being home and out of the hospital, his gift came early. I'd almost prefer, though, to buy the entire Toys R Us catalog for my daughter than try to find and purchase a Hippo, not to mention getting that animal wrapped and under the tree.

And so my Christmas spirit will continue to escalate all the way through Christmas and into New Year's day. With a little luck, the weather will turn colder and the credit card bill will get lost in the mail on its way to me. That would be the ultimate pinnacle of holiday jubilance.

Merry Christmas From the Korpis

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

I've been to Office Max before, and I've watched several videos on JibJab.com, I've even celebrated a few Christmases through the years, but never did I imagine that the three of these perennial powerhouses of pleasure, presents, and pencils would join forces to make sharing holiday cheer so fun and easy.

After reading the Sunday paper checking out all blow-ins for the Black Sunday deals, I came across the Office Max flier. Not only were they having a great deal on office furniture (which I didn't need) and external terabyte storage drives (which I could use), but they advertised a chance to "Elf Yourself." After checking out the deals on their DVD-R+ and CD-R blank media solutions, I retreated to my computer before the blessed loved ones awoke from their peaceful slumber in MY bed (that's why I was up early) to "Elf" myself and my sleeping beauties.

As they quietly awoke from THEIR peaceful slumber, we gathered around the computer to criticize how well (or unwell) I was able to crop photos around a green elf hat, but mostly to laugh out loud as we enjoyed watching miniature caricatured versions of ourselves dance the disco, Charleston, and country two-step. As we watched and rewatched ourselves doing dips with each other and our new dog "Hannah," (our OTHER dog "Cookie" is very shy) we clicked through the digital "gift shop" where we were enticed with mouse pads, coffee cups, T-shirts, auto decals, hats, ornaments, and photos of our alter egos in very suggestive poses, poses that suggested that we actually knew how to dance, were 2 feet tall with giant heads, and dressed like Peter Pan. We couldn't resist. The question wasn't what NOT to buy, but rather, how much of EACH to buy. We settled on an ornament for the grandparents and a photo for our Christmas cards (which some of you may have received--the secrets out now: the photo was NOT take in our back yard.)

It was with the most unselfish motive that we overpaid for the photo images as my tech-savvyess to capture high-res images of ourselves was was outdone by their tech-savvyness to hook me and force me to pay for them. So much for the holiday spirit of "giving" on their part. But it was money well spent. It sure made our new dog feel like "one of the family."

So enjoy the goofy video from the Korpi family. Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and happy belated Thanksgiving.

My your holiday season be filled with as many memorable happy, goofy moments as ours.

The Gift of Plastic

There has been a lot of talk recently, or at least a lot of unsolicited exaggerated e-mails, about which gift card to buy and which not to buy this year because of the potential for retailers selling the gift cards to go belly up before the lucky recipient of the card gets around to using it. Whether or not this is exaggerated rumor or whether there is any veracity in the hullabaloo I don't know. Could it really be that if I buy a gift card for a friend to, let's say, Wal-Mart, is it likely that the mega-chain will fold soon? Likely not. If, however, I buy a gift card to the newly opened "All You Can Eat Buffet To Go" restaurant, it's likely that my friend will be unable to use it before the restaurant owner is eaten out of house and home.

Could it be that these claims are just deleterious and nefarious aspersions of competitors vying for a bigger piece of the gift card pie? I could easily see the owner of "Joe's Auto Massage" spreading a rumor that his competitor, "Ken's Kar Karessing" is going out of business. In such a narrow, limited market consisting of the small percentage of insane people who think automobiles benefit from an oiled rubdown, one might resort to such dubious business practices to increase customers, or to get a single one.

For the most part, the claims have been falsified. Stores like Talbot's Kids, Talbot's Mens, Talbot's Womens, and Talbot's Pets have no plan to close; however, company spokespersons have admitted that Talbot's Zombies is closing it's doors. Other companies on the list like Eddie Bauer, Ann Taylor, Lane Bryant, The Gap, Zales, Home Depot, and CompUSA are in fact closing down some stores, but mainly at night when the mall closes. Look for them to rebound the following day around 10:00am.

Stores like The Sharper Image and Wilson's Leather are already out of business, so if you buy a gift card from them, you must have purchased it from a charlatan who was likely standing outside the deserted building that used to be the actual store. Either that or you bought in on online on ebay for pennies on the dollar, so the fact that you won't get to use it is nullified by the fact that you got a great steal and have already realized real savings. Call your useless card a "bargain book mark."

There is one gift card that is currently available whose provider will never go out of business--a Planned Parenthood gift card!! The perfect gift for those who have everything the want, and maybe something they don't. I'm not sure how many $25 dollar cards are flying off the shelf, but I imagine that amount won't get you much, but at least there's no "onerous" exchange or real money, just a swipe of the card at the counter.

Not that I don't appreciate the charitable considerate gift card to Starbucks every now and the, but aren't gift cards just cop out gifts given by the uncreatively lazy? First of all, giving a gift card is like giving cash, except with the limitation of having to spend it only a facility of the giver's choosing. It's like telling the person, "Hey, I didn't know what to get you 'cause I didn't think about it all that hard or cleverly 'cause I don't really know you well enough to do that anyway, but I DO know that Super Wal Mart has everything, so here's a thoughtful gift card of $10. Get yourself something nice, and remember it's from me . . . " Or "I forgot to get you something until the last minute. I suddenly rembered at the checkout while I was buying a new bulb for my broken tail light, so enjoy this gift card of $20 to Auto Zone. Remember, they'll INSTALL wiper blades if you buy them there."

AND

Gift cards are really a scam by the issuing business anyway. Not only is it money in their pocket today for goods and services purchased tomorrow, it is very often money in their pocket today for goods and services purchased next year or never. If you're like me and have a lot of hoplessly lazy friends who don't really know me very well, you've gotton your share of gift cards. I have to confess that unless I use them the day I get them, they get filed in my wife's accordian file under the correct alphabetical tab where they sit and mature and depreciate until the expiration date passes or the plastic decomposes. When I think of shopping somewhere or grabbing a bite to eat, I do not first say, "To where do I possess a gift card?" Instead I say, "What do I need and where can I get it?" and "For what am I hungry?" (I actually put prepositions first when I talk to myself.)

Even when I DO get around to using the things, I've noticed that the recipients, specifically waiters and waitresses, seem put off by having to deal with a card (especially if you try to pay for the meal with an Auto Zone card.) I almost feel like they judge me too, saying things in their head like, "I kind of had a suspicion that you really couldn't afford to eat her. Now I know for sure--your meal was financed by a rich, benevolent benefactor! How on Earth are you going to tip me?"

And then there's always that awkward amount leftover at the end. You're standing at the register saying, "Let's see, what else can I get for 57 cents. Do you sell gum by the stick?" THAT'S where the companies actually make their money, assuming the card gets used at all. It's the small change left unspent that accumulates on a grand scale, just like in "Office Space." Either that, or the customer ends up spending ADDITIONAL money to augment that 57 cents to actually get something decent. "Let's see, 57 cents left . . . . I tell you what. Let's throw in that 50,000 BTU stainless steel gas grill and that basketball hoop. How much extra do I owe you?" I guess cards are a clever way to get us into the stores, where we usually spend more than the value of the card.

That, or we forget we even have the card to begin with, but keep going to that merchant in the hopes of using it, leaving our accordian file at home, filed under "D" for "D'oh!"In all seriousness, all the support and meal cards I received from family and friends during my surgical ordeals were used and were very much appreciated. Thank you all.

It's those two Macaroni Grill cards I still have from almost 10 years ago that I'm now too sentimental to part with that this blog is about.