An Ode To The Trucker

My Uncle. Should be retiring but instead bought a new truck to keep bringing you your stuff.

You know that big truck you don't pay any attention to that just gets in your way? That truck is being driven by a human being who has probably been on the road for days, away from their family and friends, to bring you every single thing you use and consume in your life. Take a look around you right now. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. you see has been brought to you by a trucker. From the flooring in your home to the coffee in your cup, to your cup, to the paint on your walls. Every item you consume and use has been brought to you by a trucker.

Next time you get mad because a big truck is "in your way", try to put yourself in their shoes. That truck is probably in your way because some car won't get out of their way. People drive around all day in their little sports cars and pickup trucks whining and pissing and moaning about these truckers and how "rude" they are and how they are constantly in the way. Those trucks have no other choice but to be "in the way".

Those trucks are being driven by people taking time away from their families to be in your "way" so you can put food on the table for your family. They are making a choice to be out on the road, dealing with cars that see them as nothing more than a nuisance, to bring goods to retailers for those very people's consumption, all while being ostracized and blamed for everything. They are on time crunches and deadlines, but only have so many hours they are allowed to even be inside the truck before they must pull over and wait in some rest stop in the middle of nowhere, missing their kids, missing their spouses, with a trailer full of the stuff everyone needs. Truckers are under immense pressure daily. Trucking is only "easy" to the new generation of "aimers" who are only in it for a paycheck and don't have the slightest clue how to be a real trucker. For the true truckers; the skilled drivers and the ones who actually know what they are doing, trucking is one of the most difficult professions out there.

Truckers don't get vacations. They don't get holidays. They spend their days staring at the same grey road for hours on end. Constantly stressing about traffic and arriving at their destination on time. Getting fined for being 10 minutes late because some asshole in a car wouldn't get out of their way. Being told to be at a certain location at a very specific time only to be made to wait, sometimes for hours on end before getting unloaded. "Hurry up and wait" is how trucking goes. They deal with weather, road conditions, traffic and breaking down every single day of their lives. They are the "invisible" heroes of our every day lives and nobody gives a shit.

My entire life has been spent respecting the trucker. I move out of their way. I slow down and let them over when I see their blinker on and fifty cars before me have simply ignored them and kept going. I flash my lights twice saying "go ahead, buddy, I'm in no hurry". Nine times out of ten that trucker flashes his lights back at me and I know he's saying "thank you". I know that he's grateful that someone finally came along who understands what it's like to need to get a big rig over when nobody pays any attention. He's relieved because he was most likely moving over for a reason. He was moving over because someone was entering onto the interstate. He was moving over because someone was on the side of the road and he didn't want to go by too closely at 70 mph. Or, he was moving over to pass a slower moving vehicle because he's on a deadline and would like to get to his destination on time so he doesn't get fined, only to be made to wait.

It's so easy for people to complain about big trucks and the noise they make and the space they take up, but if you just stopped for a minute and thought about why they exist, maybe you wouldn't be so quick to judge. While Jo Blow is typing out his ignorant comment on social media about how much truckers "suck", he's giving zero thought to the fact that he wouldn't have a phone/computer/tablet/laptop to type that comment without the trucker. While Bitch Ass Sally is honking at that big truck trying to back into the retail store he's delivering goods to, she's giving zero thought to the fact that if it weren't for truckers, she wouldn't be sitting in that vehicle that a trucker delivered, in a rush to get to the store to buy stuff that a trucker delivered.

Yes, nowadays trucks are everywhere, but that's because so are people and people consume things. Those "things" need to get there somehow. They don't just magically appear on the shelves in your local Walmart. A trucker brought that. Next time you go shopping, look at everything in that store and try to remind yourself that a trucker brought that. Get out of his way when you see his blinker on.  Give him some room and wait patiently while he backs into that store. You're in a hurry? He is, too. Move over when you see one coming down the on ramp and give him room to enter on to the interstate so he can get where he needs to go and hopefully that week get back to see his family before he has to turn right back around and go out again.

While you are going to your 9-5, the trucker is spending weeks away from his home. While you are sleeping, the trucker is up at 2 am to get back on the road and get where he needs to go, hopefully with a little less stress and less cars that won't move out of his way. While you are at the store filling your cart with items that a trucker brought, that same trucker is stuck at a rest area or truck stop because he's out of hours for the day and can't drive anymore. His trailer might be empty, but he can't make it home without risking a big fine and possibly his livelihood if he chances that 100 miles to get there. While you're complaining about truckers going too fast, going too slow, being loud, being in the way, being rude, etc, that trucker is doing those things for a reason and most likely trying to avoid an accident because you weren't paying attention.

While my son-in-law is out there driving a big truck providing for his family and my daughter and grandson are missing him, you are spending time with yours. Think about that next time you're annoyed by a trucker.

Looking Back At U of M

I was just going through some more older posts and came across this one from my visit to U of M. I titled it "My First Visit To U of M", but it ended being my only visit.

That was a wonderful trip. My daughter, grandson and I had a really pleasant time even considering the stressful circumstances. I can still remember it like it was yesterday. It ended up being my only visit because they had no new information to give me other than a "new" diagnosis of Transverse Myelitis. This was not a "new" diagnosis, but a confirmation of a diagnosis given by a neurologist in 1998. He was rude and crude, but he was right. Unfortunately.

Going back through my older posts has been cathartic for me and has given me a new and fresh perspective. I've been on Facebook a lot lately. Mostly browsing groups about Iceland and the like, but even trying to stick to that, it's nearly impossible to stay away from the negative people, the politics and the trolls who just want to argue with anyone who they can goad into doing so. I made a decision today to try to limit my time online and just focus on working and saving and continuing to enjoy my life as I do in a positive and productive manner.

I do appreciate the Facebook groups and they are full of so much valuable information from people who have actually visited the places I wish to go, so I will still visit them to learn more, but I feel that it's imperative to my mental health to limit these visits and to limit my interactions, especially with those who are hell bent on ruining someone else's day.

Looking Back

I was just looking back at some of my older posts when I was walking using a walker. It reminded me how exhilarating it was and I needed to be reminded of that because all I remember when I look back in my mind is how terrible it was. I struggled so hard for so long and felt so much pain and frustration. I never really progressed past a certain point, so my life was very restricted to what I could do because of lack of endurance and strength. Not many people would think that a wheelchair will give you more freedom, but in my case it does. The difference between struggling to walk with a walker and using a wheelchair are like night and day. For longer trips and all around efficiency of getting around, the wheelchair will always be my best option. Sure, I might get stuck with lack of accessibility in certain places, but nowadays that's not nearly as often and it's much fewer and farther between than walking and losing my strength and not being able to go on any further.

After a few years of dealing with health issues once again; a large tumor that required a full hysterectomy, tight and bent legs that wouldn't go straight restricting my movement and ability to stand or walk and this year I fractured my right ankle, I am finally beginning to stand more. Every time I stand I can feel how tight my muscles have become and it reminds me to stand more often to help loosen them up. I also am going to begin walking as much as I can with my walker while I'm at home to strengthen my bones as much as I can and help strengthen the area of my ankle that was fractured. It's wonderful to finally be in a place in my life where I can accept the fact that I am just unable to walk long distances or climb stairs very well. I have fully accepted my bodies limitations and learned to be thankful for the abilities I do have. Using a wheelchair no longer carries the negative feelings it once did for me. This is simply how I must get around. The only person that needs to care about it is me and I'm fine with it. Anyone else who isn't, well they can just go find some walking friends :/

For years I allowed the stigma of being in a wheelchair to follow me. Even my own so-called father would make horrible comments about the wheelchair and never just accepted that my body is just stuck at a level that makes it a necessary evil. He found it to be an evil, I no longer do. I would never consider something that gives me my freedom to be evil. Yes, it scratches the inside of car. Yes, sometimes I am unable to access things because of the chair. Yes, sitting all the time isn't exactly the best for you and my bones are becoming weaker as the years progress. All of these things (and too many more to list) are the price I pay for my freedom and completely unavoidable. They are also no longer things I stress myself over. I can do as much as I can at home to strengthen my bones and stand as often as possible to keep the circulation moving and keep my muscles as limber as possible. I no longer stress that I am unable to walk very far. I tried to walk. Twice. Both times I hit the same plateau and did not progress any further. Yes, when I first began walking I was getting stronger and making strides, but that will happen after you've been sitting long enough. I still only reached the same point I had right after I became sick and did two years of physical therapy. There's a reason I stopped going to therapy and it is because I stopped progressing and became a waste of my time. I never wanted to accept that, but I have.

Acceptance is the final stage of grief. I feel blessed to have reached this stage after over 20 years of fighting and struggling and not truly enjoying my life. Yes, I enjoy my life! I just enjoy it a little differently than most ;)

Fun Facts About Being Over 40

When you're a kid, you think 40 is old and you can't wait to be a certain age until you reach that age and then you can't wait to be the next age. I can't wait until I'm 16 so I can drive. I can't wait until I'm 18 so I can do what I want, when I want. I can't wait until I'm 21 so I can drink. Nobody ever says "I can't wait until I'm over 40 so I can have all the responsibilities!".

It's a trap. It's all a trap. The only thing that comes with being an adult is adult responsibilities and let me assure you -- they are overrated.

You get the privilege of paying bills, keeping a clean house, doing all the laundry ALL the time, waking up early and going to bed late, never again for the rest of your life getting a full night of sleep without having to wake up to pee at least once, making sure the vehicle is maintained, keeping food in the house, feeding the animals, making the bed, cooking the food, cleaning the dishes, washing windows in Spring and Fall, scrubbing toilets (that's something to REALLY look forward to), mopping floors, vacuuming a fuck ton of carpet, constantly worrying and stressing about money and bills, dealing with hair from every critter in the home including yourself and most fun of all? Cleaning up shit. This is not a joke. Most of your life is going to be spent cleaning up shit. From the time you enter into adulthood and start having babies or adopting animals, you will forever be cleaning up shit. Have a cat? You will forever be cleaning cat shit out of the litter box. Have a dog? You will forever be picking up their shit multiple times a day. Have a cat and a dog? You will forever be cleaning cat shit out of the litter box so the dog doesn't eat it and cleaning up your dog's runny shits because they got into the litter box and ate cat shit. Have a kid? Changing diapers and wiping shit. Have a potty trained kid? You will still forever be cleaning shit, I assure you. Once they are old enough to maintain better personal hygiene, they will have their own kids and you will be occasionally cleaning your grandkids' shit. All this leads up to getting old when you will then be either cleaning your partners shit or sitting in your own shit.

Moral of the story? Life is shit.

I am 43. I woke up this morning at 5:00 am and couldn't go back to sleep to save my life. So, at 5:30 I decided to just get up. The idea of coffee and sitting on the couch with my laptop and pets actually sounded relaxing and appealing. Like the cute pics you see on Instagram of warm jammies, animal cuddles and a cup of coffee. Let's just be clear about one thing right now: INSTAGRAM IS NOT REALITY! What is reality? Putting on warm pants and a warm comfortable shirt AFTER you remove the cat from laying on top of them and they are now covered in cat hair. You emerge from your bedroom to a nice quiet living area and begin to feel like anything is possible and then notice your aging dog has pissed on the carpet. Before even making a pot of coffee, you must clean up dog piss from the carpet. At 5:45 am. Dog piss cleaned, you move into the kitchen and begin making coffee. This is when the cat decides she wants to sit in your lap (for those of you who don't know, I'm in a wheelchair). As you're trying to move around the kitchen and get the damn coffee made which is needed for your survival, the cat is winding its way underneath you, nearly getting run over every time you move, until you finally give in and pick her up. Cat on lap the coffee is finally brewing. Now the cat wants to play. She begins biting your hands and clawing at the drawstrings from the hood on your sweater and while doing so, with her razor sharp claws, slices you right in the boob. Cat is now off your lap and made to go play elsewhere.

FINALLY, the coffee is done and you make yourself a nice comforting cup. It's at this point that the dog, who has already pissed on the carpet which you had to clean before even making the coffee, decides she needs to go outside. You get in one good sip of coffee and then have to saddle up and brave the cold to take the dog out and then pick up her shit. Back inside you can finally sit on the couch and relax with your fresh cup of coffee. You pull out your laptop and begin checking emails and starting your day when the cat decides she wants to cuddle and walks across your laptop, somehow emailing "fuoamdkbiehgebknsolthigihtkensgkhttgeknew" to someone you haven't spoken to in 20 years. Forcing the cat off your lap, she begins to play with her toys on the floor and you can finally breathe a sigh of relief UNTIL, suddenly, like a hunter in the wild, the cat climbs your floor lamp knocking it over and starting a chain reaction of mess that you must now jump off the couch and go clean up. The best part? All of this happens before 6:00 am.

Doesn't becoming an adult sound fun?