My formerly favorite breakfast...

Chorizo.

It is delicious, spicy, and great with cheese, sour cream, and taco sauce.

Today was the first time I had ever looked at the ingredients...I almost heaved.

Not that any type of sausage doesn't have some particularly disgusting ingredients...most sausages are actually wrapped in intestines, but I can handle that.

The beef chorizo that I made for breakfast this morning is comprised of salivary glands, lymph nodes, and spices....

I'll say that again: SALIVARY GLANDS AND LYMPH NODES.

Basically I just allowed a cow to spit mucus into my mouth, and enjoyed it because of some paprika and other spices.

GROSS.

I think that's the last time I eat chorizo.

I have apparently been tagged.

I'm not usually one to repost things like this, but my wife sent it to me, so I figured I would humor her.

I would tell you who I tagged, but you really don't care.

So here is what you get, 10 random things about me that you may or may not know.

HERE'S HOW YOU PLAY:
ONCE YOU'VE BEEN TAGGED YOU HAVE TO WRITE A BLOG OF TEN WEIRD, RANDOM THINGS, FACTS OR HABITS ABOUT YOURSELF.
AT THE END, YOU CHOOSE FIVE PEOPLE TO BE TAGGED, LISTING THEIR NAMES (AND IF YOU WANT TO, WHY YOU CHOSE THEM TO BE TAGGED).
DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE THEM A COMMENT "YOU'RE IT" AND TO READ YOUR BLOG.
YOU CAN'T TAG THE PERSON WHO TAGGED YOU.
SINCE YOU CAN'T TAG THAT PERSON BACK, LET HIM OR HER KNOW WHEN YOU'VE POSTED YOUR BLOG SO HE OR SHE CAN READ YOUR ANSWERS.

So, my ten things:

1. I am the biggest MMA fan on earth. I will watch any MMA fight available to me at any time. I watch MMA fights on YouTube daily, and I don't think I will ever stop.

2. I am an accomplished martial artist, holding multiple black belts. I have fought in a massive number of full contact MMA fights, and I have much better than a winning record. ;)

3. I have broken my toes so many times that when I move my big toe on my left foot, the middle toe moves too...but none of the other ones.

4. I have lived in Missouri, California, Nevada, Louisiana, Kansas, and Germany. Soon, I will add a sixth state in which I lived when I spend three months in Arizona for work.

5. I have a son who was born two months premature that defied all odds and required no assistance whatsoever, regardless of his very low birth weight. He is a gift from God....and so are my other three children.

6. I once had a pool stick broken over my head. I still carry the scar. :D

7. I have talked to roughly 500,000 people over the course of my sales career. I did the math, and that is not an exaggerated number.

8. My wife is currently suffering with a disease called Cushing's. It's scary, but God will provide and we both believe that she will be fine.

9. There is a video on YouTube of my youngest daughter farting on me...it has 7,301 views. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YVswlR08ECg

10.

I play guitar and sing.

Touching....

I occasionally browse around major news sites in hopes of finding something interesting, and I rarely succeed.

Today was an exception. I actually read a story full of hope for humankind that demonstrates that some people walking this planet actually care about others. What a wonderful concept.

To make a long story short, a woman who was in need of a kidney transplant mentioned her plight in passing to her local Starbuck's barista and the woman's response was to go get herself tested to see if she was a match. Sure enough, she was, and openly offered what was basically a complete stranger one of her ORGANS.

If this is a Starbuck's ploy to garner the favor of the public because of their wise hiring decisions, I will be absolutely disgusted, but that does not seem to be the case. What it appears is that one human being was willing to offer another human being a functioning part of her BODY and expected nothing in return but friendship. The fact is, I am shocked and amazed...pleasantly.

So nice to see a story like this after a day like I just had.

COOL

Vogue Cover

It seems interesting to me that this cover provokes controversy. People are in an uproar because Mr. James here supposedly looks like King Kong holding on to a damsel in distress. To me (perhaps because I am an undereducated buffoon), this appears to be a picture of an aggressive professional athlete who is showing his personal style, while standing in the presence of a beautiful woman who is exhibiting her personal style.....

Why are people so damned sensitive? Why does every image need to be scrutinized so intensely? Why does there need to be a racial connotation to everything that happens when more than one race is involved? Why do we perpetuate this social concept that white people and black people are so inherently different?

EASY ANSWER: We aren't all that different, and it is media coverage of so-called controversies such as this one that divide us all on racial lines. I don't believe that racial equality and social acceptance of racial equality is something that we are incapable of as a nation. However, I believe it is incredibly difficult to create any kind of that acceptance and loving for one another when people are on national newscasts claiming that this black man looks like a gorilla holding a pretty white woman against her will.

I'm offended at the connotation. I'm offended that these two people couldn't do a photo shoot without people raising their eyebrows. I'm offended that people don't look at this and say "cool picture" instead of "what is that angry black man doing to that happy white woman?".

LeBron and Gisele: Kudos to you for doing something that has never been done before.

Media: Get a life and stop perpetuating outdated and ridiculous stereotypes.

Me: Go to bed, it's freaking late.

One more thing...all I want to know is if LeBron and Gisele are happy with the cover photo. If they are, then will everyone else who has a problem with it please just shut up?

:D

Long days - long nights

I have been spending a copious amount of time at work, and I often come home with an attitude. I wish I didn't, but when I come home to "could you do this?" and "daddy, can we do that?", my responses are pretty curt, and I feel bad for being such an emotional burden to everyone.

I have lived with a sleeping disorder for the whole of my life. Most people are on a sleep schedule of roughly thirty minutes of falling asleep, thirty minutes of REM sleep, and thirty minutes of waking up and then starting over. I, on the other hand, fall asleep instantly, dream persistently, and then wake up feeling exhausted pretty much no matter how long I sleep.

Sometimes I am in such a deep REM state, that I will get up and maneuver about the house in a complete dream state, occasionally waking up to find myself in other rooms of the house and having no idea how I got there. Some people think that REM sleep means restful sleep, but to the contrary, there is so much going on in my dreams that I am getting very little restful sleep.

I also remember most of my dreams.

In the end, when I do not get at least eight hours in, I wake up absolutely exhausted and I suffer most of the day because of it. When I wake up, I have this dog who looks at me like I'm insane for having slept so much, and who taps her tail at me like an impatient nun waiting to rap my knuckles if I do not provide an immediate reconciliation to her displayed desire.

So, I do that...run the dog outside. Sometimes, because I am not awake enough to even venture outdoors, I take a shower first, which only serves to further irritate the dog so much that upon getting her outside, she attempts to rip my arm off bolting through the door.

Then I head off to work...where I talk to roughly 30 people a day who hate my absolute guts and who tell me to bugger off. (The life of a sales guy.) By the time my day ends, it is VERY difficult for me to be in a good mood, although there are hundreds of things for which I should be infinitely more grateful.

The roughest part is that my relationship with my wife has been suffering of late because of my long days at work and my restless sleep, which is compounded by a newborn baby and a particularly rough few weeks of dreams that are so vivid I might as well be awake. She wakes me up to ask me to take the dog out in the middle of the night, and I verbally rip her head off for daring to wake me up when I'm trying to sleep. It's not her, it's exhaustion. I want to recognize her difficulties more effectively, but somehow at 3 am, I have very little in the way of diplomacy or understanding. I am a jerk.

By the time I get home in the evening, I am wiped out both mentally and physically, and any of my wife's attempts to get me to do anything extra serve to do nothing but irritate me. It's as if I am offended that she needs me...and I know that isn't right.

Since I'm sure she'll read this at some point: I am sorry, honey. I know I'm wrong, as usual. lol

It's frustrating having so much going on in our lives and having no means by which to affect the parts of our lives that are driving us crazy...all we can do is wait and pray, and attempt to control our rampant emotions until things start to level off a bit...and by "we" I mean "I". :D

Obama's Pastor

I was just watching CNN, and I see that people seem to be incredibly concerned about some fiery sermons that the pastor of the church that Barack Obama attends (or used to attend) once gave.

It seems interesting to me that the sermons mentioned are not particularly recent, and although they are highly inflammatory, I honestly can not see why that is such an incredible issue in the minds of the media, at least.

I am a church going, Christ following, bible reading individual, but I would be absolutely offended if I was judged based on anything that my pastor said that wasn't popular.

I am irritated with the media for seeming to assign responsibility to Barack Obama for things that another man said.

How desperate are we for news right now?

ISN'T THERE A WAR GOING ON SOMEWHERE?

Dinner buffet

We went to Sunset Station Feast Buffet tonight. My wife typically avoids buffet food at all costs because it is typically disgusting, but my 7 year old managed to talk her into it somehow.

My 7 year old looked like a tiger eying a wounded gazelle as she gazed upon the few dozen food options. I think she made seven or eight trips just so that she could sample everything.

Most interesting, the little one decided to cap her meal not with dessert (although she had that as well), but with a nice bowl of shredded cheese. Not MELTED cheese...just shredded cheese, which she gobbled down with a spoon, all the while laughing about how good her cheese was. Gross.

My wife and I got to talk a lot about the upcoming surgery and some of the feelings we are both having about the situation. Neither one of us are particularly excited about the procedure, but we are hopeful regarding the end result. She'll most likely be "cured" after the surgery, and that would just be awesome. God provides...we both know that.

So, my daughter managed to suck down more food tonight than she probably has in the last seven days, with more variety than she will probably in the next month. That kid can eat like a horse. I think she had ice cream, jello, and mac and cheese squeezing out through her ears and nostrils before she finally decided it was time to lay off.

That child has a lot to say as well. My wife and I could barely get through a sentence without her raising her hand to say random things such as:

1. Those people are having a hard time closing their stroller. I can close up the stroller. I know how. I should go help them. Can I go help them daddy?

2. Can I go look at the different types of food? Is there something I can get for you? Can I eat my refried beans with a spoon?

3. (To Mommy) Do you have anything in your purse that I can play with until I am hungry again?

4. Can I dance to the song that's playing?

5. Can I go find the guy who brings us drinks and ask him to bring me milk?

6. (Loudly) I have to pee REALLY BAD. I know where the bathroom is. CAN I GO PEE BY MYSELF?

7. (Pointing to the bill holder) What is that called?

8. Can I sit in the chair on the other side of the table from me?

9. Can I sit on your lap?

10. What's that on your plate? (Pokes my beef and broccoli with a dirty finger)

The list goes on and on.

I am so glad to be home. I enjoy being out with the kids...but it's absolutely exhausting.

My book

I've had this book idea forming itself in the back of my mind for some time now, and it seems now mentally fleshed out enough for me to sit down and start writing. The problem is, the writing gnome argues regularly with the father, husband, and breadwinner gnomes. Even when he beats those guys out, he is always dispatched rather handily by the lazy gnome. (All of these creatures live somewhere just below my sternum.) The lazy gnome beats the crap out of everyone.

So anyway, I need someone to tell me that they enjoy what I write enough that they would feel compelled to buy said book should the storyline interest them. I would like to know in advance if this endeavor has even a fighting chance of being profitable. The story idea rocks, though...but it's just controversial enough to have me shot by some secret society psychopath.

If anyone would like to purchase my book long in advance...EVEN BEFORE IT IS WRITTEN...please respond in the comments section with your email address, full name and address, as well as your credit card number with expiration date, and I will have your autographed copy out to you some time within the next twelve months. The purchase price, only because I like you, will be only $14.95. I kid, I kid...I think.

Complaining

This is going to sound ironic, but I am going to complain about people complaining.

All day long, all I hear about are the things that piss people off. I hear about who is sick, how sick they are, and what sort of fluid is leaking from their various orifices. I am so glad that people feel as if I am a great shoutbox into which they can funnel all of their aggression, but does the negativity ever end?

At some point, can people just look at the world around them and say, "Well, yeah, it sucks...but that's how it is."? Apparently that would be just too easy.

Everyone has their excuse for why they are in such a bad mood. Their little pet peeves are way more important than allowing me to maintain my sanity without listening to complaining all day every day.

Does anyone ever just wake up and say "Cool, I woke up!" and then carry on with their day with that same attitude?

WHY NOT?

Cushing's Disease

My wife has been through a lot in the last couple of years. On New Year's Eve of 2006, she was about five months pregnant and went to the hospital because she "just didn't feel right", and we were informed that she had experienced something called a "fetal demise", which still sounds extremely cold to say to this day. Essentially she was walking around with a not living baby in her belly for who knows how long.

It was crushing to both of us, because both of us had already accepted that child as a family member. It affected both of us as if it had been one of our other children. I have never cried so hard in my lifetime. In retrospect, however, that event helped mold the child that was born on December 7th of last year, and I frankly would not have him any other way. I still cry for my lost one fairly regularly. I am not sure I will ever fully recover from that blow.

On that fateful New Year's Eve, a CT scan was done on my wife's head, where the doctors saw what they referred to as a "remnant" on her frontal lobe. The doctor said that he would give her a referral to get an MRI to further determine what that "remnant" was, but that he didn't think it was very serious. It seemed so not important to him, in fact, that he did not even give us the referral, and when my wife called the hospital to request the referral a few weeks later, they told her that she would have to come in to the ER once again expressing the same symptoms in order to get the referral. Not willing to return to the hospital which so coldly informed us of our child's "demise" (especially considering that the surgery done to remove the "necrotic fetal tissue" was not properly completed and my wife had to have a SECOND surgery performed at a second hospital) we never got the referral.

Flash forward to my wife's most recent pregnancy with our little one. Because my wife had exhibited problems with the last pregnancy, they paid closer attention to her this time, setting DOZENS of appointments to monitor the baby and my wife. She had very high blood pressure, was gaining weight at a very rapid pace (even for a pregnant woman), and was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. All of those things in combination coupled with high levels of protein in her urine led the doctors to a diagnosis of preeclampsia.

My wife told a couple of doctors at Desert Perinatal (where she was treated) that the doctor who had essentially our last baby dead had informed us that there was something anomalous on her brain...which they ALL disregarded and did not even bother to follow up on. Not wanting to argue with doctors, we left it alone and assumed that the issues that my wife was having were a direct result of this preeclampsia.

Well, as it turns out, that anomalous mass that was seen on the CT scan was a tumor on her pituitary gland, which we found out very recently. My wife has gained weight rapidly, is dealing with muscular and joint discomfort, and is still fighting high blood pressure and diabetes.

My wife's current doctor recently diagnosed my wife with Cushing's Disease, which is apparently what she has been contending with throughout this entire ordeal. The worst part: we diagnosed it before the doctors did. We are not doctors and have no medical training, but we were able to get online, plug in a list of symptoms, and receive the exact same diagnosis as it took doctors about a year and a half to come up with...all because no one would check on the ANOMALOUS MASS IN HER BRAIN even though it was clear that something at least POTENTIALLY was there.

I am absolutely livid, and I intend to spend the better part of the upcoming years becoming a millionaire by exposing the fraud that is the medical system in our state. Reading through a list of symptoms associated with Cushing's Disease, there is NOT ONE of them that does not match my wife's condition to perfection. Would it seem reasonable that out of SIX doctors that have cared for my wife in long term situations would have at least been CURIOUS about this strange little thing in her brain? Apparently not.

My wife needs to get better...and the way she is going to get better is by seeing doctors outside of this state who actually have a clue as to provide treatment to people instead of collecting money from "customers". The medical profession is quite lucrative enough for these people to donate some modicum of time to actually establishing what is wrong with people before treating symptoms instead of diseases. All the blood pressure medication and insulin in the world could not cure what my wife is dealing with right now, but our doctors didn't know that because they didn't pay attention to her long enough to actually establish what the real problem was.

So, at the end of the day, my wife is in the very advanced stages of Cushing's Disease, which is a very life threatening illness if not promptly treated. She will require surgery to remove the tumor, which many in the medical field in my state have stated that NO neurosurgeon here is capable of doing with any level of safety. We'll be in California or Arizona having the procedure done within the next couple of weeks, BECAUSE IT HAS TO BE DONE THAT QUICKLY IN ORDER TO PREVENT MY WIFE FROM DYING.

Had the doctors well over a year ago properly diagnosed her condition, none of this would have been so difficult to manage. However, they were apparently too anxious to get off to their golf game or buy another Prada bag to actually spend any time diagnosing instead of prescribing medication to treat the symptoms.

I am absolutely livid.

Circumcision

Well, I had the displeasure of taking my son to have him circumcised yesterday. It was frankly one of the most horrifying experiences of my life. My wife was going to take the reigns and take care of that, but she is dealing with some medical issues (to be mentioned at a later time) that made it nearly impossible for her to handle it, so I took him.

I have no recollection of my circumcision, and I am eternally grateful for that fact. When we arrived at the doctor's office, I thought I would be cool, and was resolved to stay and provide moral support to my little guy who was about to have a piece of his winky removed. I was infinitely more nervous than he was, I am sure, but he kept looking at me as if to say "Dude...you look queasy...what is going on here?"

The doctor came in to visit the little guy, and when she removed his diaper to examine the soon to be executed, she gasped and took a step back as she marveled at the gift God has given my son. (No proxy suggested) She peeled the appendage from my son's left leg and looked me square in the eye and said "this is going to be EASY".

She then exited to get her "circumcision kit", and I sat and chatted with my little guy while she was gone. I said things like: "Dude, I'm sorry"..."Please don't be mad at me"...and "This is about as bad as it gets." He just laughed and laughed at my tone. Then the doctor returned with her torture...erm...circumcision kit.

She strapped my son's legs down and again exposed his willy. She then took a hypodermic...oh God...and pointed it at my son's penis. I cringed and brought my hands over my face. When I opened my eyes, this woman had a syringe buried in my son's penis. Now, I was present for my wife's C-Section...I have performed CPR on TWO people who did not survive. I even had one of those people VOMIT IN MY MOUTH, but I have NEVER been that queasy.

I took a couple of deep breaths as my son screamed bloody murder with a needle buried in his wang...and then settled in. Again, I thought I was cool.

"He's numb now," the doctor said.

She then pulled out this oversized paper towel with a winky sized hole cut out of the middle and covered up everything but my son's face and willy. When she pulled out this terrifying clamp and deftly approached my son's now bleeding and iodine covered penis, I again cringed. Before I had any clue what was happening, I hopped up with a speed that suggested that someone had just pinched my ample rear and burned out of the room like it was on fire.

"I'm done! Let me know when you're finished!" I shouted at the people behind me as I blasted through the front door of the clinic.

A few minutes later, the nurse came outside and said "He's done!"

I went to see him and he was completely cool. Apparently the anesthetic had worked its charm and he was feeling no pain...but OH MY GOD...I could barely look the little guy in the eye. I felt like I had betrayed him in some way.

I had never felt more relief than when he looked at me and smiled even as the doctor showed me his now circumcised penis which was red, bloated, and covered in blood and iodine...ugh...

Well, the doctor wrapped up and told me I could get him dressed after giving me instructions for caring for the "wound".

The table on which I was dressing my son to leave was about waist level, and in a fit of what I can only imagine was retaliation, my son thrust kicked his foot forward so hard into my crotch that it actually took me to a knee.

I couldn't even be mad at him. I just knelt there holding my crotch for a moment, and in a labored voice said to my son: "Okay, I guess I deserved that."

What a day.