MASKED mayhem

I was out tonight, and that's when I got to thinking about the past few months...
While being sick so often as of late, I started wondering how some of the kids I grew up with were doing. I started to think how bad it really sucks, that I only remember them. All I have are distant memories. I currently do not know anyone with CF. I mean, I know of them..I see them in the clinic as I walk to an assigned room. I hear them coughing down the hall when I am a patient. And I see their pictures and profiles on Facebook or CF websites... But there is nothing I can connect with on a personal level. I haven't bonded with any of them. For me it's not the same to read some blog, or message online in some support chat room. It's just not the same. It may work for others. Maybe for families of those with children that have been newly diagnosed. For me it just doesn't work. I have been there when it was so much different.....if that makes sense. The only connection that I seem to truly feel any sense of attachment towards, are the pictures I see in the clinic, or on the bulletin board hanging on 5 tower..Familiar faces of the kids that no longer are with us.

We are forced to wear masks when we are within proximity of one another. We can not shake hands. We can not hug, or console one another. We fight the same battle, but always apart.

The disease is consuming, and during our most fragile hours, overwhelming and discouraging.

It was hard to cope when it was all taken away.

I was in fifth grade when everything changed. I know alienating us from one another wasn't a deliberate act or measure of cruelty. I understand why it was done, and I get the importance of it having been addressed. The result of Cf-er's interacting with one another in close quarters, pose a greater risk of spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa lung infections. We are highly susceptible to the mutations of this bacteria, that are proven deadly to the CF community. So, they did away with all activities. No more CF camp. No holiday parties.
I remember how hard it was to go into the hospital for weeks at a time. And I know that's an obvious statement...As a kid, age 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 whatever years old...being yanked from school for long periods of time. Missing out on relationships, and digging holes academically that were forever overwhelming to dig out of...But the thing that always made it tolerable..The part that made 3 weeks at a time,in the hospital, bearable and not so lonely...

well, that was having "friends" when I was in there.

We knew each other when we went in. When we were sick, we had each other to pass the time. We went to physical therapy together. We were able to eat dinner in the same room. There wasn't anything we felt like hiding. HIPPA didn't exist. Good and bad I suppose, but as kids we could care less about that sort of privacy. We were able to share things. When we had to get an IV, we could ask to hold each others hand. When we were scared to ask, we knew we had each other to turn to. I remember watching the older guys do their treatments.

I remember seeing those who were sicker. It was important for me to see the varying stages of the illness.

Over time it was hard not to notice the physical challenges I saw as my friends grew older. I knew there was a separation there. At an early age, I was made very aware of the kids who showed varying severity of the illness. I was lucky to be healthier then most, though it terrified me to think where I could end up. Some guys took great care of themselves, and it was obvious. While for some it was clear that they were slacking on their regimen. Personally, I've sat on both sides of the glass.

When we were in the "joint", we played all kinds of things to pass the time. I remember running around the hallways playing football. One armed, dragging an IV pole, while hacking up a lung, touch...sometimes even tackle football! We knew how much air we could put on the deep ball so that it didn't hit the information signs hanging along the ceilings. It looked like some kind of screwed up version of Arena Football the way we played down the narrow hallways. The nursing station, and a wheelchair were opposite end zones. It was a blast.

CF camp was something I was fortunate to be apart of. I was lucky enough to attend from age 5 all the way until I was 11. After that, camp was no more. It was one week without parents. And one week with each other. The councilors were great. The week was amazing.

Who's there?

A beam of light shears through creases in the drapes. And rolls from one corner of the room to the other. The television reflects the scurrying light. You could watch all the shadow puppets along the wall return to their places; behind the lampshade, and coat hanger racks. Refocusing to the dark is only momentary. Once we adjust, we are wide eyed with ears pealed back. Our senses are on high alert. I'm scared to breath. That a single breath will reverberate like a drum roll, and break our dark cover. My eyes manage to catch hers, as I strain to make out the curvature of her hips. I can make out cheek bones, and where her lips tremble. I try to tell her with gentle motions that it will be okay, but I know by my pounding heart beat, my fear can't lie. She's scared, and I don't blame her. So was I. She was who they're after. I wasn't there. In fact before tonight, I slept with no fright at all. I slept comfortably with out disruptions day in day out. What if i just yelled? Broke the darkness with cutting rage for everyone within hearing distance? I know any rooms this side of the motel would have to hear, and call for help.
Wouldn't they? Someone would have to...Someone,right?
The car outside came to a stop. The engine then came to a tinkering die. The first door opened, and shut. Once the second door opened and shut, there was a very brief lapse of silence. Then a trunk door slammed shut. Followed by the sound of metal scrapping across blacktop pavement. She had held her breath as long as she could manage, and she released a gasp of air in terror.
We could hear two voices outside the door marked 217. Large men. Stringy hair,and greasy. Two clashing styles. One obeisant figure reaking of tar and nicotine. The other man, chiseled and wearing a tweed coat. The two of them at wits end with the chase...Ready to settle a score past due. A hardened man. A liar and cheat...
"this is their car isn't it?" said the man in tweed
His partner exhaled smmoke from his joint, and paused, showing the face of a man putting serious thought into something.
"slice the tires...and call Mark" he took another hit. "then we go in, and we talk....she can make our next move. It's on her."
"okay, done and done"
The quiet lasted about 5 seconds.....
And then there was a knock. A light rapper on the door.....
The

LANE KIFFIN

January 12, 2011
Said Lane Kiffin at yesterdays press conference "I'm really looking forward to embracing some of the great traditions at the University of Southern, eh I mean, together we share, at the University of Florida, for instance the Gator Walk, running through the tunnel to the theme of jaws, chanting Orange and Blue all night long after we beat the Seminoles next year ... it will be a blast". Kiffin was hired by the University of Florida, after coaching one year as the head coach at USC. His record was (5-7). Former Florida coach, Urban Meyer stepped away from coaching, declaring "he was done." The university has voided the last remaining years of his contract. He has since changed his name to Oscar, and fallen into seclusion.
It is also reported that with him, Kiffin has appointed Offensive guru Norm Chow to head the offense, and as Defensive Coordinator, his father, Monte Kiffin. It is not known the specifics of the deal, but reports from Florida alum claim Kiffin signed a 6 year/7.5million dollar contract with incentives; one of which, to remain coach of the university for more than one season. Many speculate his committment to the university will follow his recent history.


January 20th, 2013

In the aftermath of this countries apocalyptyc election, it was by no surprise that once sworn in, President Kiffin addressed his decision to appoint father, and former USC defensive coordinator, Monte Kiffin Secretary of Defense. The selection left many many shocked and bewildered. Monte Kiffin, is best known for his imitated version of Tampa Cover 2. His "bend -but-not-break" philosophy, though proven to be effective at times on the football field, brings about a concerning uncertainty as to how he will implement it into our nations Foreign Affairs.

Kiffin Sr., when asked how he would execute the US defense strategy, he confidently stated "stress is put on speed, smarts and flawless tackling. […] A quick defensive line is a must, but the middle linebacker position is the straw that stirs the drink."

Political analysts unanimously agree our country is going to suffer more than just economically...

President Kiffin has appointed Norm Chow as Secretary of State. He spent a greater portion of his life at the helm of a bitter state rivalry, otherwise referred to as the "Holly War". While many believe his aggressive West Coast tactics, not only seem to be utterly irrelavant on many, many levels, it may also engage us with an even stronger hatred towards the United States. There are others however, that are confident his football IQ will easily transition over, for effective and efficient military strategy.

Conan O'Brian has been thrown overboard by the executives of NBC with only a life vest.. And I wouldn't trust them for even that. Where are the backers? His support from NBC executives, which have been cashing in on his late night spot fot over a decade-where did they go? out having transgressions along side a guy named Tiger? He CREATED that time slot through witty, and creative monologue and humor. He did everything NBC could have asked of him.

They rewarded him with the Tonight Show at 1130pm. ....But with a few extra tid bits, and stipulations... Jay would continue doing his show at primetime before the late news. Conan at 1135 as expected. now 7months later, the network wants to retract the lineup by pushing Conan to 1205, adn giving Leno 1135. WHo knows where Jimmy Fallon goes, but his opening monologue seemed to give us an idea. That idea being that he is a -not very -funny- nice- guy, who seems happy at any spot, so long as he has a job. Ok "Norway," stay passive, and you'll be liked in your small studio audience.

Leno has to stand up here and say"NBC, you got it wrong..I'm back home to eat some spaghetti standing up, and you can keep Conan at his contratced time slot- 1135pm", and then get on your bike and drive off the production building, where you will be drinking vodka from a

go for it

Scattered showers had left the field a wet, soggy, muddy mess. The sun was lost in a shade of grimacing clouds. Massive collisions, bodies flopping about, made the ground shake. This was football weather; a hard-nosed, hit-em, stomp-em, grappling dog-fight.
The zebras were letting the boys play.
They are weekend warriors. Grown men refusing to listen to their receptors; ignoring the wave of pain. The trenches were a scrum for postion. Ears pinned back, with a tenacious roar, the home side pressed the visitors heals deep into the ground.
Some were electricians. Warehouse workers. A mailman and a school teacher. They gathered together on Sunday to clash like the mighty Titans.
"pu-em in" coach pronounced with a grizzled Southern tongue. His attention never left the field. He spit his chew, and wiped the excess dribble from his chin, as he knelt down to measure the line.
Dotson Riggles looked up in terror from his sandy brown mop of hair.
"who me?"
It was a plastic Cleveland Browns junior helmet, glossed over with black spray paint. It was scratched and worn, and bubbled from the heat of the sun. While others spent two weeks pay on a Riddell, this helmet was pulled from a trash pile set out on the curb.
Dotson Riggles frame resembled a tooth pick with chicken legs and a tiny head. His skin was fair and freckled. His nose sat crooked, while his eyes much to close together. This was the moment he had been waiting for! All those games he watched intently . His school days now but a distant past.
Riggles secured his hockey shoulder pads, and rushed to the field.
The players scratched and shook their heads, as he lined up on the oppositions side of scrimmage.
"who is this guy" chirped through the air. "Wrong side Opey!"a black helmet scowled.
"oh no" he thought, and his head began to spin. He turned his body to face the sideline and his color changed green. His body lurched forward as his lunch poured out. He felt much better.
He faced the right side of the ball. The rest of the field shrugged their shoulders and lined up in postion.
The man under center sprayed cadence into the air. A drizzle of sweat slipping down the flesh.
They were giants in comparison to Riggles. He was outmatched. But still he puffed his chest, and stood strong until the snap.
He shot down the sideline like a bullet. Riggles kept up step for step.
The ball was released and soaring through the air. Cutting the patter of rain drops draping the field. A tight spiral; falling near.
The two leaped to catch the ball at its highest point. Riggles eyes lining up with the ball, with pin point accuracy. His compettitor flaring with the same intensity.
Arms outstrecthed and hands ready to clamp down...

Riggles was given a chance to play ball.

horses climb trees

Carnations smell like a funeral home. I don't like flowers much, but I know by bringing them, it makes her feel good. Her lips were dry and crusted. To keep her jaw shut was no longer worth the exertion. She told me she no longer slept at night. When no one was there to nurse her, she felt so lonely. Her cough was a struggle. Wet, crackily, and drowning all the way to her last twilight breath. The sound she couldn't escape, filling her eardrums, crashing like waves upon rocky shores.. even in her dreams.
She held my hand and said to me "it's the scariest place...being here......the loneliness. It makes my heart hurt. I don't want to go" her eyes swelled, as a few tears rolled down her porcelin cheeks. She looked so pretty.
When it was time for me to go, I looked over my shoulder that last time. My grandma guided me towards the door, as the little girl died. She yearned to be free. Free of that bed. Free of that hospital. Free of being sick. A child again.

She looked so... so old.

A few days later, on the eve of her 16th birthday, Tracy lost her fight with cystic fibrosis.

She and I squeeze into a recliner and watch television until the ball falls. Arguing things..Like where we could go if we had wings. Who is the fastest when the recess bell rings. Was it true that horses climb trees?
She was so worked up with the lack of CF awareness. Her idea was to write a petition to be hand delivered to the doorstep of congress advoccating change as loud as she could, with all of her breath. Sadly her lungs weren't quite strong enough, but damn her heart, and fight composed the meanest, most intimidating 4 foot nothing 15yr old this planet has ever seen! Margret RN, helped Tracy write it. It was imperrative that everyone who was dealt this deadly disease is not alone. Imperrative that state represenatives in congress, and the general public, be aware of the importance of KNOWING. It angered ger soo much that not enough was being done! Why were so many suffering in dark. Where was the compassion? Where was the understanding? Why did it have to be her.....That letter with all the signatures were lost after her death.

New Years, when the ball drops, we bang, and clammor pots and pans up and down the block. Bringing the neighborhood alive in the this very infancy of the new year. Each breath cloaking the midnight air. Memories of Tracy.


Over the years, there were others too. The boy who couldn't leave his room when there were arts and crafts on the other wing. The boy who could not catch his breath while running the cones shaped as a diamond path. I never got it back then. I didn't fully understand.
There was this TV movie I remember watching back then. It was about this little girl that had CF and when she was 8 she coughed blood. That image burned into my head.

I'm 28. It's time to wake up. My alarm was ripping my slumber from limb to limb. This morning felt different. I was just informed that my name was given to not just one, but two childhood friends first sons'. Talk about pressure! Pressure to make it the name they could feel proud of.
I was diagnosed with CF when I was at birth. My mother was a single mom, in school at OSU. She had me in a difficult time of her life. She and I lived under my grandparents roof. I loved it! She on the other hand felt what you'd expect; living with her mom and dad at age 20 with a son was hard. Hard not having anything to call her own. Hard to be a mom, when she had school and low paying job. Managing doctor visits by way of public transportation in temperatures of 30 and below. I remember watching her cry. I didn't understand. She cried because she felt like she was failing at being a mom. That it was too hard to raise a child with a chronic disease all alone. But she always managed to gather composure, and carry on.


Mom always wanted to give me the whole world, but her pocket book couldn't do it. It hurt her that she wanted so badly things for me. And she did everything in her power to give. I know now the stretches she would cross for me. She loves me. I am her son, and I love her too.

"mom, how much do you love me?" i say
"I love you infinity and beyonddd!" she says
"well, I love you more"i say
"you do? how so?"she says
"I love you all day.."i say


Now is not the time for her to worry about me. It's come a time, that time was yesterday, that now in order to "get" what I want, I have to be willing to go get it. Willing to make the sacrafices. willing to make changes. To really want it.








TO BE CONTINUED SOON......

DATING

The three of us were having dinner at the Olive Garden when I was told that cystic fibrosis would be a burden. A heavy weight. That it would be unfair to them.

"you're better off just you."

That rings through. I know it's silly to

getting to know me

Not sure where this will go... I have very limited blogging experience... I'll keep it simple.

25 things about me to get this whole blogging thing under way...... here's the whirl.

1) I have impeccable timing at finding myself in just about any awkward situation. Its remarkable.

2) With as many nightmarish date stories I have been a part of, I know for a fact I am the center core of many more…..sorry.

3) I try real hard, and then some more. Persistence is my “M.O.” …..even when its only to beat a dead horse….and then beat it some more…and then again.

4) oh, that last one reminded me how I have this inability to STOP talking. I like to call it “zach’s -thirty-seconds-too-long” rule. I am enlisting ANYONE that is present at the time of my garble, to take any means necessary to pull the reigns of my awkward inflicting chatter! I’ll thank you later…

5) I am very competitive. I can’t think of much worse than coming in second place. Just the sound of succumbing to the word I “can’t” is hard to swallow…and that sounds contradicting now that I read through, because I used “can’t” twice….well now three.

6) So a mushroom walks into a bar. Asks the bartender for a heavy drink. Bartender says “why the long face Mushroom? Drinking won’t solve things, bud”Mushroom says “Tell me what will!? I mean, I’ve got no friends. No girl…It’s just not fair!..and you know what sucks!? personally I think that at the end of the day I’m a pretty FUNGI”- if you know me, you would know how I enjoy bad jokes….and the incessant need to repeat them, or to use a play of words on gift ideas.

7) I love movies. Like I really love movies….I repeat lines after a movie in the car while I’m driving, and play roles of the different characters. I can get so involved in this, that I miss my exit, or driveway. I’d see movies in a car. I’d see movies in a box with a fox. I’d see movies in a house. I’d see movies with a mouse…

8) I am scared of rodents.

9) I guess while I am omitting such truths about myself….something like 9 years back I “found” some money, and did not return it. It wasn’t more than a few bucks, but I should have returned it. “One of the hardest things in this world is to admit you are wrong. And nothing is more helpful in resolving a situation than its frank admission.”(Disraeli)… Honesty has since then been my ultimate policy. Trust is the hardest to gain, and the easiest to lose.

10) Before I die, I have to go to Australia. I want to start at “Possession Island”, and then backpack along the eastern coastline…. It’s been an infatuation of mine since I was like 6- to go to Australia, and see a platypus in its natural habitat….seriously.

11) I have three awesome brothers. Christopher, Jackie, and Rap-master V ;)

12) I’ve wanted to be a lot of things, and a superhero is one of them. I’m still waiting for that spider bite, or the chance to play submarine in a barrel of toxic goo.

13) Each time I visit this coffee shop (I’m there currently) there is this women …and she scares the “be-geeby’s” out of me! She is sitting catty-corner to me right now, and reaching into the air chanting….and she has 2 cups of coffee, a juice, and a bottled water, and a glass of tap water lined up in a row just for herself… Like always, she’ll fall asleep in her chair soon.

14) I’d do anything in my power to help a person in need. Friend, even foe…Family, or stranger. Every job I’ve shared, has been to “help”. I’ve always wanted to make a difference, and I live to lend a hand to others.

15) My friends are dear to me. I’ve been fortunate enough to have so many close ones… with that, I am the luckiest person I know.

16) I like to paint. Not great at it, but it’s something that I enjoy…

17) ok ….so I’ve always have had this dream to act one day. I want to be in movies! I want to help produce, and direct a movie! It’s going to happen.

18) Zachary. It’s my name. Zach with an “h” is fine, but I really like to be called Zachary.

19) I am very sensitive. I let the small things drag me down..and initially I’ve felt somewhat lost. BUT reflecting on those times, it seems like I’ve managed a way to pick myself up, and move on. It catches me to surprise…it’s that whole persistent thing I guess.

20) I think I should heed my friends advice and stop accepting so many girls as “just friends”.. I have a lot of ‘em… and that’s cool, but SOMETIMES it’s not all that conducive. But I love the “girl-friend-friends” I do have. They are like sisters, and that’s cool as shit! Just don’t need any more than I’ve already got!

21) the New England Patriots are my team. A record of 11-5, and NO playoff spot!? ?! Are you kidding me!??! The league better watch out next year… They are out for blood.

22) words of advice to those who pondered the thought : DO NOT buy cheese for a girl on a first date. DO NOT give a girl an instrument in a means to court her. If you don’t have a car, a job, or a place to call your own, and instead reside on your friends’ parents’ couch …well, it’s probably safe to say, that right now is better than any time, to reassess your priorities – I think dating may not be the most ideal.All of these, plus many more are bad moves. NOTE: a psychotic stripper with an angry fiance` and mother of a small child/ children, that were all unbeknown to you prior to becoming barely clothed on her couch, are not always the smoothest sailing either...i'd avoid that situation if given the chance again. And do not fall into the trap of fixing a broken appliance while on a first date. Its not a porno...you really will be sweating to fix the vacuum cleaner or such,(for example) while she watches television.

23) I am a vulture to fruit. If someone has a bag of grapes, a bowl of strawberries, a Tupperware of melon, I’ll be there.

24) Chicken and rice. Rice and chicken… It’s all good!

25) I cough, but it’s not contagious….at least as far as we know.

Referring to post 25, let me elaborate: this is a bad time to have CF..I mean, it's not that any other day is better then the next or anything...but because this is swine flu season, people automatically assume I've got it and they're going to catch it. I feel bad! I wouldn't want to use the equipment at the gym after some guy was hacking alung all over it! anyhow.....