Lobster Races!

So, I made it.

Exams went quickly, and far easier than I expected. I can only hope that my grades reflect that. For example, that 4 hour economics exam... it took me an hour and ten minutes. I don't know if that is a good, or a bad thing. I do know that it was a while before anyone was out behind me. I guess it is slightly comforting that I am usually out first in those quizzes.

After the exam I had to try and get the lobster I was to bring to Calgary. It was a very windy day and I had been informed that the fisherman did not go out. That seemed to be a bad thing, but then my contact said that she would take me to where you can get lobster for cheap. She drove me out of Saint John to a lobster pound in Idontknowwhere. I asked for the lobster, they tossed 'em in a cooler, put in some ice and I was good to go.

That night I packed everything, and even tried to sleep for a few hours. It did not really work, one, because of my excitement, and two, because my roommate likes to cook supper at 1 in the morning and do dishes at 2. We have to talk to him.

Groggy as hell, I woke up, hauled my suitcase and box o' lobster to the curb where I met my travelling companion and our taxi. Airport. Plane. TO. Plane. Calgary...

I must say. I have never been so excited to get off of a plane. 73 days away, and finally home. She was waiting for me, and I must say, I am glad.

We divvied the lobsters at the airport, and then finally headed home...

It was a long day. That night a few family members managed to come over to enjoy the New Brunswickan lobsters. 16 lobsters left New Brunswick alive, and 16 made it to Calgary... alive. They were a lively bunch, and tasty. It was a night of good times, and leaps and bounds in the science of communication. We will have to consider importing lobster again.

The Races

Lobster + Booze = Interspecies Communication

Gone Swimmin'

The First Piece of Order

So far this program has been a great jumble of chaos. Certainly there is enough order to get us all to class, and to somehow get us to do what they want, but it has been messy. I can remember before I came here waiting and waiting and waiting for my information package. Generally one would expect an information package to come out early, especially when people are moving from around the world, but no... there was nothing.

It was a good thing that I tried to contact the school directly to get some information. It was not everything but it was enough to start figuring out when I would need accommodation by. Actually, even that was hard, as e-mail does not seem to be an effective form of communication and even phone was tricky.

Things have not improved too much in that regard, but at least I am close enough to walk over and ask in person when I have a question. Since that beginning things have still seemed like they are barely holding together. Schedules are mishmashed, groups are in chaos, but somehow it still works. This program seems to be very similar to the Millennium Falcon.

Well, things are still nuts, and I still don't know my schedule for next term, but at least the presentation is alright. A few days ago we got our business cards so that we can pass them out when networking. Sure, things are a little nuts, but it is nice to see some of my tuition coming back my way. So I got 100 business cards at a cost off $18,000 therefore each card costs $180.

Alright! I am off to go networking... Ye-Haw!!!

Eid

One of the interesting things about being in the UNBSJ MBA Program is that the program has students from all over the world. Where some schools accept this fact, UNBSJ embraces it. Not only is the multicultural demographic pushed as a great opportunity and benefit of the program, but the school program celebrates the holidays of every single culture represented.

On Monday we celebrated Eid, which from what I am told, is the celebration that marks the end of Ramadan which is a time of fasting for Muslims. Some of the students organized the event, the school put a little money behind it, and as the fasting ended, we all feasted.

I would like to say that this cuisine reminded me of the Muslim Quarter in Xian. I guess Muslim culture and surpass the borders of countries.

Tree Eater

They are expanding the parking lot at UNBSJ, to do so they need to remove some trees.

Wow.

Craft... uh... Arts... uh... Fair... uh... Thingy...

(p.s. what you can't see on the left is a choir singing Christmas Carols)

Last weekend there was an uh... craft/arts/fair thingy in Saint John. With my trying to gain as much from this experience as possible I of course had to attend. Usually we don't hear about stuff going on as Millidgeville (where I live) is sort of its own little area, but, having friends who are locals sure pays off.

We went down to the arena thing, paid our $5, or $6 if the attendants didn't accept your student card, and started looking around. Before I move on, Saint John is a small city. When you go with a local you stop frequently. Everyone knows everyone. So... we continued, or tried to continue on into the heart of the madness. We did stop a lot, but I just kept on going, wandering from stall to stall.

There were a lot of things there. To be honest, I like obscure handmade things so if I had any more money I could have spent it. Actually, I did spend more than I should. Oh yeah, lots of things... There were things knitted, and sewn, and made of glass, and made of wood, and art, and cakes, and baking, and breads, and antiques, and musical instruments, and nuts... mmm nuts... and paintings, and leatherwork, and repeats of items 1 through 5 and wow. It was huge, and it was crazy.

I would have like to buy more things. I like to support that kind of work, but alas... I am broke. So, we walked around and looked. I did not have much cash on me, but thought I could look and get some if I needed it. My compatriots were looking and shopping on their own, and I walked a bit in front trying to see if anything caught my eye. When we were walking passed the nut merchant he somehow managed to get candy coated nuts into our hands and our hands to our mouths... needless to say, he turned out to be a very good salesman. I did see some things that I liked but my brokity outweighed my desire to shop... almost...

I looked. I saw. I moved on. I looked. I saw. I moved on. I looked. I saw. I froze... and frozen I stayed. I stared. I looked some more... and I fell in love. Those who know me know that I have a thing for art. I'll buy carvings, and paintings, and writings, and whatever, as long at whatever it is speaks to me. As I stood there frozen, it screamed at me.

The artist was from Mexico. She had spend much of her life there and then had moved to Canada. She is now a professional artist, having been one forever. I stood there and looked at a concept. It was one that I had not seen before, but I liked it. I stood there staring for several minutes and then told here that I would return with funds.

I went upstairs, grabbed the money, and then began to shop. I grabbed a little something for a certain someone, I grabbed a whole lot of nuts, and then I returned to the stall with the lonely artist with too many paintings. She did not expect me to come back. When I did return we was noticeably shocked, but pleasantly so. It still took me a long time to decide which piece to buy, but eventually I did. We made the transaction, and I am now a satisfied owner instead of an inquisitive shopper.

The piece fits nicely in my room, and a little art goes a long way to make this a little less a room... and a little more a home.

This is not a flattering picture. But this is it.

This piece did not have a name to my knowledge, but I would call it "Nothing in Something."

Wax.

You have no idea how hard it is to get good sealing wax, I mean, its almost like most people don't seal their letter with wax. Actually, it is almost like most people don't send letters anymore. Well, no one said I was like most people.

I guess since I avoid Facebook, Twitter, and the other social media sites that I just prefer to do things the old fashioned way... that, or I am a luddite. Either way, I do prefer to do things the old fashioned way.

I don't have time to send letters to everyone, or all the time, but when you want to say something important, words and paper are the way to go.

Eventually, after much looking for a reliable source, I have found the wax I needed.

Leadership

They said that in all teams a leader will appear. If no leader does, the team crumbles. If more than one leader does, then the team splits.

The power of the leader is given by the followers. A leader cannot take power.

I am the leader of my group, not because I have taken it, or because anyone said I was the leader, but because they all look to me for direction, approval, and validation.

We have just entered the time where we see if we can be successful.

I am the rudder, let's hope I know where I am going.

The best part?

I do.

57th Saint John Santa Claus Parade

Evidently there was a parade on Saturday. I seem to be somewhat removed from the World as I go to and from school and no where else. Well, that is not quite true... On Friday the 13th I went to Physiotherapy. There I learned about the parade. My Physiotherapist seems to view me like a lost child and seems to be looking out for me. Sure it means that I have to put up with some flack about my not getting a haircut, but, it also means that she lets me know about certain things going on in town, like, for example, the 57th Annual Saint John Santa Claus Parade.

Let's be honest, its not the Stampede, but for the amount of people living in the area they sure do it right. The Parade serpents its way through Uptown, which is really Downtown for the non-locals, giving everyone a chance to see it. It started at 6 pm and ended at well... kinda depends based on where you were standing. For me it ended just before 7. I was told that this Parade was shorter than most years.

I still have not been able to adequately take night photos with my camera, but the one here gives you an idea of the crowds.

As for this movie... well... I saw Santa and his Canada Post helpers coming by and I could not resist. There sure is a certain excitement when all of the little kids are trying to give their letters to the carriers.

Maybe I'll write a letter to Santa sometime... I guess I am too scared he would just send me back some coal...

Even Students can Eat Good...

There are certain benefits to living in the Maritimes. Sure, beef costs a little more, and well, beef byproducts cost a little more, but seafood... seafood is cheaper. We saw in the Sobeys flyer that PEI Mussels were 99 cents/lb and being out here to experience the East I could not resist.

We went to the store, purchased that which we needed and did not have, and then stood waiting to buy mussels. The people in front of us bought ten pounds... for the three of us that might have been a bit excessive... so we thought that five pounds would do...

We got home, cooked up some pasta. I made a cream sauce using a roux then we added in bacon and garlic. We could really have used some pepper, but evidently that is not something I possess. We also cooked up some garlic toast that I had inherited from my roommate, and then we steamed the mussels... uh... not necessarily in that order.

Even if you are a student you can eat well if you have a Cook with you...

Lest we Forget...

The sound of my horn might not have rung through the cool of the mountains this morning but that does not mean I have forgotten.

I never will.

Mid-Term: Resolution

A-

Well within the bounds of my efforts. I did not aim for A+ and I did not aim for D. This is about where I want to be sitting. I have no need to try any harder, there are no scholarships, and employers don't seem to care a whole lot about my grades. All that matters is that I am satisfied with my efforts, and that I am satisfied with my results.

I am satisfied with both.

Any more effort and it is wasted, any less and I will drop into the ranks of average. I'll stay here thank you very much.

Mid-Term.

So far this program is not harder than my last, that is for certain. Group work is still frustrating, and tests are still easy.

We have reached midterms, which means that we have one midterm exam and one take home midterm. Truthfully, this is not all that daunting. I put some time in studying, nothing spectacular, and I fully expect to get a mark within my goals. I did go in more confidant than most seemed to, and coming out, I was definitely more confidant than most.

So much for the challenge promised to us. Perhaps my standards have already been set too high.

Anyways, the Accounting midterm is finished and everything is well in the academic world.

Great.

They said that this first term is the hardest.

What a pity.

Tamest Deer Ever...

I went walking down to the K-Work River tonight, it is a good route, and just a little longer than my walking route at home. On my way there there were three white tailed deer crossing the street. They were all young, but two were grown, and one was just a baby. It was interesting to see how the baby was the only one who even thought that I might be a problem.

One of them was only a few feet away eating, and it did not even care when I stopped to watch them. I spoke to them and the baby got spooked. It ran a few metres off and the other deer, must have been the mother, also got spooked.

Evidently being 5 metres from me instead of 3 was enough and they sat there merrily.

I made to the river and it was nice. Amazing to see how you can be just a little way away from the mini hub of Millidgeville and it gets very quiet. Down by the K-Word Yacht Club there was not a sound. Every once in a while I could hear a car on the road behind me, but in front there was nothing but silence.

It made for a nice moment of calm, and on the way back the deer made for nice companions.

I will walk again soon.

Happy Halloween!

Electroschism

I started physio last week... great... I do 40 minutes of exercises a day and still can't do anything. Still can't run, or lift, or sleep, but at least this is the right path... in theory. My physio is at least considerate in that she knows I am poor, so she is helping me in as few treatments as possible.

Anyways, yesterday I went in for physio and had luckily learned enough exercises for now. She then did some work on my mid-back to deal with a knot I have there. She used the IMF machine which generated high frequency low current impulses on a 10ish second cycle. This is something that I am familiar with, but usually running through my back. The physio put the electrodes on around one of the muscles in my shoulder... it just so happened that the current running through the muscle actually triggered the muscle.

Imagine. I was laying there on my stomach and every 10ish seconds my arm would pull up behind my body and then release... Every 10ish seconds, for 20 minutes... that is like... a bazillion seconds...

God that cracked me up...

Oh physio.

The Invigilator

Doesn't that sound like it should be a movie title? I think it should.

Who is the Invigilator? I am!

Actually, there are a bunch of us. It is a low paying job that is only available to Graduate Students. But, there are some serious perks. For example, getting paid $8.50/hour to do my homework. Yes indeed, that is the arrangement. I sit at a little table and make sure no one goes into the room and no one goes out. I sit at this little table with my homework and with everything I need.

I don't think I have ever been paid to do homework before...

I suppose it is not always all pay and no work. For example, today the student I was helping needed a "Reader" and so I sat there and read her test to her. By the way, it has been a long time since I have done Psych and I have forgotten how many really complicated words it has. It really does...

Either way. For an hour of work I get an hour and a half of pay, and on Monday I will get paid to do my homework.

Ye ha!

Somekindamagical...

Somehow magically my Internet started working again. I got a message from my Landlady and she said that it was fixed. "Great" I thought.

Great did not last. It was not long before my Internet cut out again.

"Great."

So now we are waiting. Still waiting, for the Internet to get fixed. It makes it very hard to work on my homework without Internet, and it is kind of difficult to work at all on the desk that has not yet been acquired. I guess it is fine that I work on the kitchen table, my roommate has been kind enough to not contest me for it, but we are getting another roommate in a few days. If he needs a workspace then things might get a little complicated. Sure we can share... but can we share?

Oh well.

block.opendns.com

And I'm stuck.

I don't know what block.opendns.com is, or where it came from, but it has blocked most of my website access. There is a chance that it is something that my landlords put in to control their children, but more than likely it is a trojan I picked up. I guess I will take a look tomorrow at school to see if it is resolved.

Funny thing is that I was at school all day and that my Internet was working fine... maybe it is just our DNS server and not malware...

Hopefully this is resolved soon. I had some other things to talk about, more about leadership and about my first presentation... but... it will wait. This blocky thingy has got me all disheartened...

I swear!

I have not been in Saint John long, but I swear that in the time I have been here it has rained more times than it had rained the entire time I lived in Calgary!!!

You know, I may not have been able to use the umbrella I bought in China in China, but, I sure get to use it here. Not only that, but every time I open it it is like getting sprinkled with little drops of nostalgia, and I have the pride of seeing every other umbrella of its class being dwarfed. Tonight we could see our shadows as we walked home, and though both of our umbrellas started the same size collapsed, mine is way huger.

Congratulations China on perfecting the umbrella and keeping my bag dry...

Now... about my pants...

Days go By...

The weekend is over and most of what I did was homework. Shocking.

This MBA Program is supposed to be very challenging. We have been warned about the workload, and we have been scared into submission. It only took a week. There is one issue with this whole theory... I'm still not scared.

Yeah, yeah, I get it, five graduate level courses compressed into 8 weeks. Hmm... this seems strikingly like my last year... But, I have tried to have an open mind and to accept that though my tolerance for work is high, this will still be difficult. We have now received all of our course outlines and what I see is very... interesting. I see an enormous workload, but with the exception of Accounting, it all appears to be easy content. This is interesting. It is also interesting that out of five courses there are only three finals.

I guess that means that if I can magically find the money I will be flying to Toronto for my Ikkyu Jo grading. I have looked at the outrageous costs of flying to Toronto for a day, but, this is quite economical when you consider that if I pass this grading my future gradings all line up with my Iaido gradings on the May Long Weekend.

Anyways. MBA workload = Manageable.

And how is Saint John? Still warmer than Calgary. Still no snow. And... still a little scary. The unfortunate reality of living in a high crime city. Its ok, the populace here is largely desensitized to it, but when you compare it to Calgary (with the exception of the NE) Saint John is a little sketch.

Redeeming features? Sunrises. Sunsets.

Calgary has beautiful movements with the sun as well, but this, this is different...

This photo was my walk home today. I would have gotten a better photo for you, but it is hard to see around the lights and wires of the city. This one is still a good representation of that spectacular band of light sneaking out from under the sky.

First Week of School

Not much to say here. Course by course the workload appears to be about the same as what I am used to. Unfortunately there is a little more business stuff involved, especially that concept or forced participation. As some might have guessed I greatly detest forced participation.

Anyways, courses are extremely long, 4 hours a piece, and most have about a bazillion pages of readings. I am not sure how the ESL students are going to keep up, but this whole thing should be very interesting.

I have taken a run at some of the work to get ahead of the game. My group is presenting first of all groups so we can get that out of the way in one class, and I will do all of the readings and reports for one class over the next few days. This way I will have more time to drown in other work. I hope I am busy, to make the time fly, and I think I will be.

Every moment I get off from school I have something else that needs doing. I need to check one thing or another, or complete some small, or large task. There is no break.

I am also stocking up on food so that I don't have to go shopping uh... ever again... I have a series of photos in my Saint John Album titled "Living Like a Student." You can see them here: HERE

Anyways. Saint John is fine. School is fine, except that there is too much business in it, and everything else is fine.

It is going to be a long long winter for me...

The First Saint John Retarded Hiking Adventure

So, as time goes in I am finding it harder and harder to stay away from the woods. When I was in China I was definitely unable to which resulted in a number of extra sketchy hiking adventures, some even bordering on the retarded. There were three instances when we did not know if we would make it out of the woods by nightfall, and on all of those occasions everyone involved was quite relieved when we finally made it.

Since the Shantou Videos are finally online I highly recommend the OMFG series and the

Another Retarded Hiking Adventure series.

Well, the main outlet of my life used to be skiing, then, I injured my back. Then the main outlet in my life was the martial arts, since I had managed a way to somehow continue them with the injury. Right now, since I am still not allowed to carry more then 10 lbs, nor am I allowed to bend my back in any way, my martial arts outlet has been cut off. Don't let this fool anyone, I still have every intention of making it to the Fall Grading in Toronto the weekend before my finals. Take that MBA... Anyways, so that outlet has been removed. I have been writing a great deal, and I have some other tasks that have been occupying my time, but, I need more. I need that fresh air and the natural beauty that I can see, but have not yet touched.

Thus brought about the first Saint John Retarded Hiking Adventure... let's call it SJRHA for short. Heh... try saying that one time fast... SJRHA...

It starts with the people involved. There were two of us to undertake this challenge, myself, and a companion from the MBA Class. It just so happens that this companion is also from

Calgary, and it just so happens that he lives across the street from me here. Since the orientation started we have been closely linked, partly because of the convenience of walking to and from school together, and partly just because of compatible personalities. Had gone to Uptown Saint John the night before with the MBA Class, and now we were up for an adventure. My companion wore his rubber boots, despite the lack of rain, and I wore my runners.

We took off into the woods near his apartment. We did not have a real goal, but in the beginning we were sort of aiming towards the University. The first part of the hike was arduous as we were near the light filled edge of the forest, but soon we broke through to open woods with a lifted canopy. The canopy was not that high, but the trees were beautiful. I could not identify them all, but there was a large number of Maples and Birches. The ground sloped upwards and we followed that path. Outcrops of rock were covered in moss, which can be seen in the photo

album, I will put them in the blog if I can get the internet to cooperate. The leaves littered the ground and made it a most beautiful sight. The sun lit up the leaves and woods, and it was something that could be seen in a movie... uhh... if it were a little darker it would be a horror movie, but we tried not to think of that.

As moved on and in the distance we could see the forest changing. The Maples and Birches were turning into Pines and Cedars. I tried to see everything and to take it in, but there was too much. I have hiked in a number of different woods, but this is different from them all. In trying to make out everything I was well aware of my surroundings, and as my foot was about to strike the ground I noticed a hint of movement. I quickly changed where my foot would fall to avoid standing on the source of the movement. Laying on the bed of leaves rested a small snake. I do not know if he knew I could see him or not, but it was cold and he did not look like he had the strength to move.

We were careful not to step on him and we decided to leave him be. It was now evident that the forest was changing. It did not daunt us. I still had a general idea as to where we were so we carried on.

It was a calm day, and no matter what forest we

were in, it was beautiful. We could slope down another hill, but on the far side of the ravine we could see more trees. If we went down, we would have to go back up. We decided to skirt the ravine. We continued through the easy woods and gradually were faced with harder and harder obstacles. Trees had fallen to block our path, and jagged branches made impassable walls. I was told that the forest in this area was largely impassable, and at that point I was beginning to believe it... but only beginning.

On we went. We noticed more and more moss and the ground becoming wet. Water openly flowed down the hill and as we followed the only available path before us we found the ground becoming squishy. My companion was wearing rubber boots... I was not.

We did not know where we were really, but, I sort of kind of maybe a little bit knew where we were... maybe sorta. We continued on and then with a stroke of luck, we could see a house (note the picture at the beginning of this entry, damn I wish that house was not in that photo... but I am glad we found it.) Seeing the house we at least had a direction. We were going to make for the house when disaster struck. Remember all of that water we saw gently running down the hill under the moss? Well, it was pooling, in a marsh.

For those of you who are wonder... of course I fell in the marsh... as is the ultimate Karma, for the one in the runners. My companion also was in the water, but it turns out that his rain boots were a little more, let's say, waterproof, than my runners. Crap.

Did did make it out of the marsh. It was a long walk around hopping from solid tree to solid tree, with any slip meaning up to your calves in decay, but it was doable. On the other side there was solid ground. We landed there and we hiked up and away. We found some houses, and skirting their backyards, that actually back onto the beautiful ravine from which we came, we found ourselves in the "nice" part of Millidgeville. On the roads now we continued down to the K-Word River.

After we had our fill looking as water and boats we turned homeward bound. It was a long walk, and by the time we made it home my back and leg were furious, but, it was worth if for the First SJRHA.

p.s. I might not talk about Saint John yet, but I have posted a few photos from Uptown where the older buildings are...

Microdiscectomy: Update One

So, on Tuesday it was two weeks since my surgery. That seemed to be a good time to write the Doctor with an update. I sent an e-mail and did not expect any reply. Like most things with our medical system, I thought that no news would be good news.

Two weeks marks two weeks into this sentence of pain in my leg due to inflammation of the nerve. When we went to the hospital because I was still in severe pain the Doctor said to expect 4-6 weeks of pain due to the nerve. Now, since I am 2 weeks in it should be 2-4 weeks left... right?

I got a reply today. The Doctor says to expect the pain to continue for 4-6 weeks, and that I should contact him again in 4-6 weeks. So, does that mean that if I contact him in 4-6 weeks my expected nerve pain should be for another 4-6 weeks at that time? Perhaps.

Either way, my expected sentence has been increased. Please note, I say expected sentence because that is what the Doctor says, my actual sentence is up to my body and no one else.

Anyways, just thought that everyone would like to have the details, especially those wondering how long I will be on the cane, because until I can stand the pain of resting completely on my left leg for extended periods of time it is my very good friend.

Talk to you in 4-6 weeks...

MBA: Orientation

When they say orientation they are not kidding. They do not mean some measly one hour here is the cafeteria and here is the nearest Timmy's, they mean, here is the most valuable resource you have available: each other.

Day Two was largely inside and largely filled with discussion and learning about teamwork and leadership. One thing that we did cover was the Myers-Briggs personality test. Prior to starting this program every student took the test and submitted their answers. The test breaks people into different groups based on their innate preference for certain behaviours, much like the preference of using your right or left hand. Each person is then given a four letter code that represents their personality. For interests sake I am an INTJ, which means a lot of interesting stuff... but... I am not writing about that so if you want to know what that means take a look at the wikipedia article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INTJ

If you do check it out, let me know if you think it reflects me or not.

Day Three comprised of a great deal of physical activity, with appeared fun, but in my current physical state was largely beyond my capacity. I was able however to watch and to take photos of the events. I will post some later if I can. The events were all based on interdependency and teamwork. For example, in one event people were blindfolded and led through a minefield by another person. In another event a group would huddle closely together, grab the hands of their colleagues, and without letting go try to untie the knot until the group was in a single large circle. All of these activities got the idea across that to succeed we will need to work together.

Later we were given the groups that would be ours for the next two months. These groups were based on nationality, experience, and on Myers-Briggs personality type. We were split into our groups and given a task. 7 of 10 groups were given recipes, 1 group was told to help by offering process advice, 1 group was told to inspect the health and safety of the operation, and 1 group was told that they needed to critique the food.

We were given one hour for preparation and two for execution. The goal? Make a meal for 50 people.

Immediately all of the groups set to work about their own tasks. I was on the group to offer advice to improve the process. We spoke to the groups before we went into the kitchen, and then when they went in, we followed. We tried to offer whatever advice we could to make it so that we might stand a chance at passing the heath and safety inspection.

Imagine 40 people in a kitchen meant for 15. I have a video of it that I will hopefully post later. Needless to say, the health and safety inspectors were kicking people out of the kitchen ASAP... including most of my group.

After the time was up, the groups had finished and all appeared well. Critics critiqued, and then we all ate... well... most of us. Turns out that the dishes cooked happened to have a whole lot of vegetables in them so... I didn't eat. After supper the last three groups cleaned while the rest of them debriefed. Then we headed home.

Today was interesting. I ordered some headphones to replace a pair that broke. They were sent to the house, but no one was here to receive them. So... they were sent to Purolator.

Today, was a photo scavenger hunt. The groups were assembled and sent on their way. A few of us were held back because of mobility issues, and some others were held back because of the coordinator of the orientation. We were given another task. That was to get all of the individual groups working together to make a single presentation of their hunt instead of 10 different presentations.

I had spoken with the coordinator, and I asked her where Purolator was. She asked if I needed to get a package and I said yes. She said that it would happen. I didn't think much of it until she said to the group of us that was held behind, that she has another mission for us. We needed to pick up a package. So, my and four of my peers hopped into a car to head to Purolator to get my headphones. This was a good chance for us to discuss strategy, but seemingly funny nonetheless. Well, I did get the headphones, and after seeing where Purolator was I is evident that I would not have found it on my own.

When the groups got back we went though a great deal of chaos to make a presentation. The missed two deadlines, and lunch was delayed, but, it worked out in the end.

Tomorrow we are meeting the business leaders in Saint John, and then the orientation is over. At that point we are ready for classes.

MBA: Day One

Today was the first day of the UNBSJ MBA Program. The first day, and in fact every day of this first week, is part of the MBA Orientation. If I can use today as a baseline, this week should be very... special. The days are long, but many of the meals are provided, somewhat making up for it.

Before we got started the Dean welcomed us and then the Director spoke with us for a good long while. It was an amusing speech, but I need not repeat much of it. The only thing I will repeat is that he said that this year is to make us better. This year is for all of us a chance to invest in ourselves. He compared it to climbing a mountain without training. The Professors and Staff are our Guides and Sherpas, but it is the skills we develop on the way up that will foster who we become.

This lasted until lunch. After said meager lunch we had in some business coaches whose focus is leadership, more specifically, vision. I have heard about vision related exercises from many people and had some idea of what to expect. Having taken a Masters level Human Resources class I was prepared for many of the activities that we undertook today. They asked about vision. I knew at the start a basis for where my vision might stem. I have thought about it and through finding ideas that I can relate to, thank you Ayn Rand, I was able to take a gander that my vision would be to produce at the best of my ability, knowing full well that it is not so important what I produce, as to how. This is where I started. It seemed like many people started with blank slates, in not being familiar with these exercises.

So, I did learn some about vision, and about other people's vision, but I took some other things away from today's class. The coaches said that all people can become leaders. This was later refined in pushing that in general, not all people can be leaders, but that all people can exhibit qualities of leadership. They also said, in reference to the MBA class, that "we" are all leaders.

I find this interesting. They cannot very tell us that some of us are leaders and some of us are not! I would guess that almost everyone in that room today believes that they are a leader. As for myself? I would certainly love to fall into that category, but there is not way to know. Not yet at least...

I would like to amend that statement from above:

All people can be leaders, but some people are leaders.

Another thing that came out of today is that managers are not necessarily leaders. This is something that I think many people know intuitively but that should be brought to mind every once in a while... especially the minds of some of those managers out there...

Please do not read this too critically. I enjoyed the seminar today, but those things stuck out for me.

Actually, something did come of today's activities. Well... two things.

The first is the following diagram. This will make a little more sense to mathematically inclined people in the concept, but I can explain it. There are two types of quantities in general. Scalars, and vectors. A scalar is a quantity without direction, like money, or like speed, and a vector requires both a magnitude and a direction, like velocity, or acceleration.

Effective Leaders are a vector. The direction is the vision. Without vision the leader shoots off aimlessly into space, ne'er to be seen or heard from again. The length of the vector, or the magnitude, is the leader themselves. A better leader would be a greater magnitude, being able to accomplish more. Together the two components make up an effective leader and demonstrate the relationship between leadership and vision. I will probably refine this idea later, but this is what had popped into my head.

The second thing I took from today's session was what I saw during our attempt at Guided Imagery. I say attempt, because I do not think that everyone accepted the concept. I must be honest, I thought it was quite ridiculous when I heard of it the first time too...

Guided Imagery is intended for the participant to be in a meditative like state where their mind is free of conscious thought. A guide then gives you instructions for you to follow in this state. Your eyes are closed and your mind/sub-conscious is free to do whatever it wants. The idea is to steer your mind in a general direction and for your body to pull on whatever it has available to fill in the Imagery where the Guide does not.

In this case we were told to leave the room and to leave the planet. We were then told to fall back to the planet in five years time. We were told to fall to find ourselves in that future. We were told to look at the house we were living in, and when going to the door, we were told that it would be our future selves to greet us. We were told to enter, and to ask our future selves what were the most important events of the past five years, and what did I need to do to get to that place. We were then able to ask our future selves any questions we wished. Following that we were asked to leave the planet again, and then return back to this very room. For many people they saw interesting things, for some people they saw nothing. I do understand that it is a hard thing to give an honest try but I believe that those who did benefited. It is a quick way into the subconscious at the very least.

Like the first time I tried the exercise I was able see something that I believe to be important to me. I would surely like to share what I saw, but it is too near to me, and being that it is near, it will remain near.

Coming out of the seminar I did find that my vision changed. True, my initial vision will still hold true for my career, but the vision of my life is different. It is once again quite clear that in all things I seek one of the only things that I truly believe to have eluded me: happiness. Many would argue that I have found happiness in one adventure or another, but those nearest to me know that I battle for it still.

We did one more thing. We were to cut pictures from magazines and glue them onto big pieces of poster paper. The images were meant to represent our visions. My paper is quite clear. You will not find the clutter of rolexes, or cars, or pictures of money, or faraway places, but instead a simple scene that is truly what I seek.

It appears on the surface that I could have that scene now, but, there is something that my pictures do not show; there is a man who is capable of smiling with his eyes... I am not yet that man.

Not yet.

K-Word River

Yesterday I managed to complete the walk that I had intended for Friday, but had been unable to complete due to the limitations still held on my body from surgery. I did not go for a long walk, but still, I was out for a few hours.

To get to the University you turn left at the end of my street... I turned right. I continued down University Avenue to Millidge Avenue. Took a right and walked to the convenience store. That was my first stop, and an important one. There I bought a map, that without I would not have been able to complete the map.

Looking at the map I found a clear route to water, which was my goal. This actually ended up being surprisingly easy since Millidge Avenue goes straight to the water. So...

I went straight.

I walked/hobbled for however long until I reached the water. I think that I was standing on a very large boat launch but I cannot be sure. I do know that I was standing right beside the K-Word Yacht Club, and that there were some very decent sized boats inside.

The K-Word river is very large and very beautiful. Actually most of the area is very beautiful.

I turned back and came home. Out for a few hours, and then in for the rest of the day. No matter how much water I put on it, I cannot put out the fire in my leg.

The End of the Rabbit Hole (Part 1)

Looks like I tumbled all night and all day, and when I woke I was at the bottom of the rabbit hole. I guess... that's here.

I woke with a deep chill that was sunk in through my skin and into my bones. The apartment was freezing and with the humidity the cold was far colder than I was expecting. I was wearing a hat for breakfast, and when we were finally ready to go I was wearing a jacket with a hoodie underneath. That kind of outerwear would take me to -20 in Calgary. Crap...

I asked my roomate from Saudi Arabia if he thought that it was cold. He said it was a little cold, but not bad. Let me note that on our way to the University the sleeves of his hoodie were rolled up. It was lucky that we met last night, and would make plans to go to the University together, for the path we took, which was the fastest route to campus on foot, was twisted and complicated and I could never have found it alone. It started out easy as we walked along University Avenue, then, we made a detour through the lot that the hospital rests on. The detour saved us a great deal of time but was confusing to say the least. Up a hill, across a street, up another hill, through a parking lot, around the hospital, up a set of stairs... up a hill. Then through a parking lot and to the campus. Really it is not that bad, but the description I have given you is all true, but not enough to find it on your own.

It was nice though, the walk is often bordered by forest on one side. We cross a creek on the way to school, and the abundant forests leaves no lack of natural beauty around. The colours are something that I would have expected to see in a painting, or on Planet Earth.

Wait wait wait. I am getting ahead of myself. This is all about the End of the Rabbit Hole. What about the Fall down it?

The Fall Down the Rabbit Hole (Part 1)

And what a fall. I packed all day. I double checked everything, and for you cynics out there, know that I have only found one item that I should have packed but didn't... in my defence... it was not on my list.

Anyways. Everything packed. Mom and Dad came home and Dad cooked a final feast that was fit for a King. I'm no King, but I can recognize a feast when I see one. Beef does not grow in the ocean. As obtuse as that may sound that last sentence is a great woe on the year ahead. Beef does not grow in the ocean, it grows in the prairies. Knowing that the prairies would soon be behind me, and the ocean soon in front, the feast was steaks that were large enough to be labelled as small countries, with potatoes as mountains, and well... for me... that was it. Those vegetable eating heathens enjoyed asparagus trees felled from the potato mountains and salad from the fields of the steak nations.

I will keep that meal in my head as a fond memory until I find my way back to Alberta for some real beef. Here, my sirloin hamburgers will have to do. Honestly, with Montreal Steak Spice, they are not half bad.

Supper was at its usual time, which meant that we had to leave immediately after for me to get to the airport in time for my 12:25 am flight. I was delivered to the airport by two lovely ladies who acted as my porters. It truly was the departure of a King, too bad it was wasted on a squire. I did get a kick out of the Air Canada guy watching me hobble towards the baggage drop off on my cane, with the ladies dragging all of my worldly possessions behind. I did however feel badly about it at the same time.

One of my underpaid and overqualified porters choose her own path and left just two of us to walk to security.

The walk was slow, as my cane-ed steps are. Too much walking and a fear of the next few moments further slowed our pace. It was not long until we reached the security before the gate. It was a great door to a new chapter of my life. It was a door that meant growth probably beyond the limits I have experienced before. It was a door that for the life of my I did not want to enter.

At that moment I was faced with the choice: get on the plane, or don't.

I will tell you the truth. I did not want to go through that door, I did not want to get on that plane, and I certainly did not want to go to New Brunswick. At that moment forfeiting my deposit, my work on this venture, and the amazing opportunity almost seemed like a good idea.

Almost.

I thought about it like that, in those words, and saw that path before me. I said before, there are paths and choices everywhere, but some paths are the calling that is the right path. Hell, I cursed hard in my mind when I saw my path running through those doors. When I could see that I had to go there was no turning back.

Leaving then, there, was one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do, if not the hardest.

I turned away from her, and took my hobbled steps down my path.

No one but her saw my tears...

The Fall Down the Rabbit Hole (Part 2)

I hobbled through the great gates before me and filed into line. The line was short as the hour was late. When I came up I had the very helpful security employee lift my bag onto the table. I pulled the laptop out, took off my jacked, emptied my pockets, and took off my belt. My cane was whisked from my hands and run through the machine. It must not have been a bomb, because very soon it was back in my hands. All of my swag passed through the x-ray machine as I hobbled through the scanner.

Of course, when I went through it went off. Wait wait. Of course it would go off as the cane is metal... but... I mean in the ironic sense of how I travel... of course the metal detector would find something. When the lady waved it around... it did. My pants beeped at the button... the metal button... as did both of my ankles... don't ask me why. She continually waved the rod over my crotch area, and it continued to beep...

She called over a "male" member of the security team to investigate further. He was a kind looking East Indian man and I will say only this. He and his latex gloves were very gentle.

Finished with security's hand's down my pants I hobbled along. I was soon to be halted by a very nice woman who wanted to search my bag. I was allowed to put my belt back on and refill my pockets, but she wanted to see what was in the bag. Actually, I have never seen so thorough a search of a bag... she took out every item out. For those of you who were not part of my packing process this may not seem significant, however, inside that carry-on was every piece of electronics that I was taking to New Brunswick, every cord to plug everything in, 5 DVD's, 7 Video Games, one favourite book, one journal, one umbrella, one water bottle, and one package of Grandma's Beef Jerky. The woman pulled out every item and put every item back in. I asked her what gets something flagged, and she told me that it was all of the electronics and books. Evidently reading is bad. Also... she did not like that there was a light inside my bag... yep... that was my wireless mouse that got turned on accidentally... real dangerous. She did however find great enjoyment in the bag of Beef Jerky, followed by her telling me that her Grandma only ever makes her Pork Rinds.

I honestly believe that she felt bad about searching me, as she saw my obvious discomfort with standing, but she had to do her job. On the bright side, she prided herself on packing, and where most security agents can unpack a bag but cannot get all of the stuff back in, this one was able to get it in better than I had.

After my longest security clearance ever I was on my way to the gate. It was not far.

Thank God.

There I waited. And paced. And waited.

When the pre-boarding call rang through the waiting area I was on my feet and in line. So were many others who did not need extra time and who were not in first class... huh... well... I hobbled down the ramp getting lapped several times and then I made it to the plane. I told the head flight attendant that I could not lift my own bag and she told me that help would be waiting at my seat.

Help was waiting. The attendant hoisted my bag into the overhead bin... well... tried... then she brought it down, we took the wheels off and she tried to lift my carry-on in as a two piece ensemble. Done and done. My cane was to follow and I was in my seat.

The rest of the plane filled. When I say the rest... I mean it. Every remaining seat was filled. I sat in the middle. I asked the Newfy beside me if he would trade seats since I would have to get up often, but he would not trade. He just told me to wake him up when I needed to stand. When the seatbelt light went off and I woke him to stand he immediately changed seats with me, finding that I was calling his bluff.

Most people tried to sleep through this midnight soar, but I did not. I watched Star Trek, and then I just waited.

We hit Toronto and I somehow managed to depart the plane. I made it to my gate and I waited.

My getting on the plane and most of the flight to Saint John were uneventful. It was on our final descent when we broke through the clouds that we finally saw something of note. Like I said before, it was something that you would expect to see on Planet Earth. For as far as you could see there were forests of many colours. There were reds, oranges, yellows, and greens. Fall in the West is not quite that bright... there is the yellow of the initial poplars for what seems like a day, and then the brown and green of winter. In the East it is something to see.

Amazing.

We landed and I hobbled to the terminal. As was planned my landlady picked me up, and with her was her daughter. We drove from the airport to the house. I was given the quick tour, and then an hour to putter about. When the hour was up my landlady returned to give me a tour of the area and to drive me to the grocery story.

I must thank her for all of this. The ride from the airport would have been at least $30, not to mention the tour of the area, and the priceless assistance of her carrying my bags and groceries. She is a bargain hunter and she told me what was on sale and where. After hitting both Superstore and Sobeys (where I bought four large boxes of honeycombs for $1.97 a piece) we returned home.

I forget that I have just had surgery. The incision is mostly healed, so I forget that just because the surface is healed it does not mean that the insides have. I am weak. When we made it back, I put away the groceries and crashed.

I spent the rest of the day in to rest and sort out my life.

I got Internet in the late evening, spoke with a few people from home, and went to bed.

The End of the Rabbit Hole (Part 2)

The campus is small. No one I've spoken with can tell me how many people attend, but it cannot be more than a few thousand. My goal was to go to the University to get my Student ID, sort out my e-mail, sort out my fees, buy my books, and maybe meet the MBA staff. In a few hours I did just that. I hobbled in with my roomate passed Timmy Ho's and then was shown the bookstore and the ID Place. He left me there. I got my ID, and hobbled on.

It was a strange feeling as I wandered through a tunnel and then outside of a building. I kept looking North to see the building I was looking for, but could not see anything but forest. I turned around and saw that I had just come out of the building I was looking for. Wow. UNBSJ is a small University.

I made it to the top where the MBA's hang out and was able to look into our classroom. I thought that Haskayne was a good school, and for certain it gets better ratings than UNBSJ, but its classroom is nothing compared to this. Our class is theatre style with each row of desks on its own tier. Each space for a student has a very nice chair to go with it, and a microphone for the student to speak into. I could see a number of projectors hanging from the ceiling.

I found one of the MBA staff and proceeded to ask some questions. She asked who I was. I told her. She told me that she thought that I might be me. I don't know if she really thought that I might be me or if she was just saying that she thought that I might be me in order to create that homey feeling. Either way, it was a bit strange.

I went to the fees office and found out that I owe a fortune to the University. I opted to pay online where I didn't think I had a transfer limit... wrong there... now I will be paying over three days.

I hobbled around campus a bit more to see where I am meant to meet on Monday, and where the students eat and drink. Then I headed to the bookstore to load up on a bunch of books that I probably won't read. It is funny that my load on the way home seemed heavier when I had traded so much money for those books.

I walked home in the rain, actually, I walked to the University in the rain, actually, in this walk to and from the University I have been the victim of three totally independent light rain storms. Do you know how you hold a cane, a cart, and an umbrella at the same time?

You don't.

Home.

On this trip I was beaten by the great Mace of Reality. Crap, I've just had surgery.

I had great ambitions of checking out the convenience store nearby but those ambitions have been shattered by the reality that my body is still weak and needs rest, not to mention I really do not have an adequate coping mechanism for the nerve pain savaging my left leg.

So, I will rest, and, I will blog, and I will begrudgingly send an e-mail to our kind landlady when the Internet returns about a list of grievances developed by my roomate and myself including unreliable internet access...

But. Before I go, please know that I have added two albums on Picassa, one for the Last Weekend I was in BC, including bridge building, and one for everything to do with Saint John. The photos in the Saint John Album so far are just what I've seen on my way to and from school.

Ah yes, and where am I living some of you might be wondering? Well, this movie should give you the low down. Please excuse how terrible I look, I've just had surgery you know?!

Down the Rabbit Hole...

It's a feeling that I've had before. It is a combination of deja vu, and uncertainty. It is not the uncertainty of what will happen in the immediate future, but the uncertainty of change of the winds of my life. I am surrounded of memories of the season, a cold wind on autumn air, and I am surrounded by memories of friends leaving me behind to go on the adventures of their lives and my leaving them to go on the adventures of mine.

It is with a great difficulty that I lift long roots from the deep crevices of the Earth and move the trunk that is the life I've built. When I left for China, I was ready for this move. I was free of attachment and I was ready to be free. I had friends who thought that I would not return from that trip. They thought that I would go and keep going. I was ready to if chance brought me down that path.

This time it is different. Out of the very solid advice to stay clear of attachment I found that I had no choice. I found that attachment is not something of conscious mind, but of a deeper force. Certainly one can avoid situations likely to seed attachment, and for the record, I did, but again in chance attachment is not a choice, but a calling. When a path reveals itself, it is your choice to walk down it, or to not.

This path is of my choosing and no one else's, so in my pain of the slow breaking of bonds between the Earth and my roots I have the satisfaction of knowing that of all the paths, this is my path. Of all choices before me, it is every single choice that I have ever made that has let me to this junction. And as I sit with this plane before me full of new adventures, a certain increase in pain, and definite feelings of loss, I know that this is my choice once more.

I could get on that plane in a few hours, or, I could not.

Some paths, like attachment, are not a choice, but a calling instead. The life I lead are steps down that path. I get as close as I can to the path of calling over choice, for it gives me a feeling of certainty. It is like a great hand rests on my shoulder as I walk that path, and it tells me that it will be alright. It feels like every step down that path of calling is one step closer to a certain end destiny.

If there is purpose in this life, and if I have a role to play, I will certainly do my best to play it. Perhaps there is no purpose, and this path of calling is just another choice, but one that reassures my heart, and my mind. So what? Purpose or not, the most utility lies in pursuing this path.

I have pursued this path for a long time. It has brought me happiness, it has brought me wealth, and it has brought me great devastation. But out of the devastation I always find the warming catharsis of the next steps down this road to my happiness.

I chose the calling in attachment.

I will also choose the calling in the path I have laid before me. A plane awaits me, and I will be on it.

Just another step, on the path of my life.

Tomorrow, I land on solid soil and drive my roots deep; back into the Earth.

On the Path to Recovery...

A long night turned into a long long day. Mom said that after surgeries that she has had the second day is the worst. It was for me. I think it is partly because I had been clenching every muscle I had in recovery the day before, but on Wednesday it felt like I had been hit by a car. Wait, not a car... a truck... and not one of those little ones... but a big one...

Wednesday was a day of enduring. It was a day of taking my pain killers and just making it through. The surgeon's office was not helpful, and Health-Link thought I should return to the Hospital. I was able to book an appointment with the surgeon on Thursday. That would have to do.

So from Wednesday to Thursday I just had to make it. I just had to keep going, and keep fighting. I did. A nurse called from the Hospital to check on me. I told her I was in pain and running out of percacet, but that I had T3's. She said don't wait in the 4-6 hours, she said when 4 hours comes along, take the drugs. I took her advice.

Out of percacet and onto T3's... this is about where I left off with my last entry.

Thanks to Pharmacists being able to prescribe drugs, and assistance from my wonderful girlfriend, I was able to acquire muscle relaxants to go on top of the T3's.

I fought through the day and another night. It was another long night, but I had come prepared. In spurts I watched I, Robot so that by the time it was day I had finished. I managed to get some sleep, but when I could not sleep because of the pain, I had Will Smith to keep me company.

Yesterday was better. My body felt better and my spirits were good. I got to see the surgeon. G & G picked me up at 1:00 and we headed to the Hospital. They told me to bring a book since the appointment could take anywhere from 15 minutes to 4 hours. When I was in the Clinic everyone's eyes were on me. I think that because I am so young and limping around with a cane I get extra attention. When I slowly and painfully lowered myself into a chair I could read the same expression on all of their faces. I would like to say it was compassion and sympathy, but it was not, the expression I saw was "I'm glad that's not me."

I got in surprisingly fast, which was good because I could not focus enough to read my book. I hobbled to a little room with a curtain wall where I waited for the surgeon. Someone came and checked my incision. He said that it was healing very well. He was surprised that I had had surgery two days ago, since the incision looked so good. He peaced out and I waited for the surgeon.

He came in and the first thing he mentioned was my pain. He saw me hobble in and guessed what I was there for. I asked him if he knew how I woke up and he shook his head. I told him that all I remember is waking up screaming. He affirmed that I am in that small group where the sciatic nerve becomes inflamed from surgery instead of getting immediate relief. He said that I could expect 4-6 weeks of nerve pain.

I am not terribly pleased with this, but at least everything else is going well. He gave me pain killers to get me over the pains from surgery, and pain killers to get me over the nerve pain. He is a good Doctor, and I am pleased that he was my surgeon.

One more thing that he said that I was glad to hear is that when they were in my back there was an injury. The disk was out, there was disk material broken and scattered around, and they pulled it out. Everything went well, and if everything continues to well I will be able to resume much of my old life.

It was still a difficult afternoon, but the pain killers did wonders. I have now been able to sleep, though I wake about once an hour, and get terrible pain in my legs. I used to get cramps that would wake me up, now I get random nerve pain and end up screaming obscenities. Oh well.

This is the path to recovery, and though it might not be easy, it is the right road.

It should only get easier from here.

A Long Night.

The adventure continues...

When I got home I was able to hold off having percocet for 4.5 hours. Then I was able to hold off taking it for 6 hours. Then I needed it at 3.5 hours, the only problem is, 4 hours is the minimum.

I had my drugs just before midnight. Then I was off to sleep. My parents had the next batch of drugs downstairs and were to give them to me in the morning at 6 am. I woke up in the night because of pain and thought that it must be time for drugs. I would get out of bed, go to the bathroom, take drugs and go to bed. No. It did not go like that. Somehow I managed to get out of bed and to the bathroom, and then I was on my way back when I saw the clock. It was about 1:30 am. 3.5 hours more until I was even allowed to take drugs. Crap.

I managed to make it back into bed and back to sleep. I was up lots. I was up from pain. I was up because I had to go to the bathroom. In the end I managed to roll twice and get up once more. I needed drugs. I went to the bathroom and then looked at the clock. 3:30 am.

Knowing I would need the drugs I woke the fam. I got Dad to bring me the drugs from downstairs so that I could take them at 4 am, and then I set about waiting. It was a long wait. I did not wait the full half hour, but I did wait for most of it.

I took the drugs, fought my way back to bed, and slept.

I was up early, still before my parents. I continued to doze, in and out, for another hour before the pain was too great. I took a long time getting up and getting downstairs.

Mom and Dad helped me lay down there where I was able to sleep until 8:30 am where I was forced to take drugs again.

I have now been given a muscle relaxant that I can use with percocet or T3, so I will use it on an opposite cycle so that I might smooth out this pain roller coaster.

The soonest I could see the surgeon is tomorrow.

I'll be there.

A nurse just called. She reinforced that I should be taking my drugs every four hours if the pain is that bad.

Yay... drug time...

Microdiscectomy.

Part One

So, I really meant to start a post yesterday with my thoughts and feelings about going in to surgery, but, I ran out of time. So... we will just start with the whole story of surgery today.

Yesterday was good. Back pain was solid, which was nice to reinforce why I was going for surgery, my mental state was solid, and I was more or less ready. Sure, I was a little nervous of the possible problems related to having surgery on your back, but due to the way I live my life and personal philosophy I was not concerned. Whatever happens, happens. And... whatever happens... happens for a reason.

I did not sleep much night, but I was not expecting to, after all, there was a lot on my mind. No food after midnight, in this case no food after 10 pm which was when we returned from Olives, which is a very very nice restaurant in Calgary that I had never heard of. Food was amazing, and thus, with my stuffededness I did not need to eat in those last hours. Nothing to drink for the four hours leading to surgery, well, I just stopped at midnight with my nightly pills. That done, and following a shower, I was good to go.

Up and on the road by 6:40 am. Hospital at 7:00. Admitting grabbed me in to ask me some questions, while Mom and Dad got the estimated time of my release, and then things got started. We had hugs to part and then I was on my way.

First thing was the lab work. That is a great way to start the day. I have been out of bed for an hour and then they are poking and prodding me with needles. A few vials of blood was all they wanted. I do love hospitals however, the lab techs are generally very good and you cannot really feel the needle. My arm shakes regardless...

After the lab work was completed I made my way to day surgery. I sat down for about 30 seconds when they called me and brought me to my... uh... room. They called it a room, but really it was a room with over 20 beds in it (I was number 20), and my room was the little area my curtain covered. However, it did almost feel like home to me for those hours today, with my clothes in the closet, my Canadian Society of Civil Engineering Magazine in my hands, and me in the bed.

Actually, when we got there they wasted no time in handing my a dress, and telling me to strip down. For many things you get to keep your underwear on... not for this. The Nurse specified that the underwear and socks and shoes had to be taken off. The instructions really took a long time to convey. When she was telling me I was thinking of a more effective method. All she really needed to say was get bare ass naked and then throw on the dress.

I did appreciate her detailed instructions on how to put the booties on though (no sarcasm intended) and they looked easy to throw on the wrong way, but you would figure it out real quick.

Ok, where was I? Ahh yes, bare ass naked in a curtain for a room tieing myself in a bedsheet. Lift it up a little and cut eye holes and your are looking at the best Ghost costume for Halloween ever.

The Nurse came back in and check everything with me. Name, contacts, everything. Actually, this was the second time my name and whatever was checked... I bet they asked 50 times, and also checked my bracelet to make sure... speaking of which I should chop that off...

So, information done, some minor briefing on how some people will come and wheel me away, and then my very special day really gets started. Then I will be gone for about 40 minutes for the procedure, 40 minutes for recovery, and then I will be back for 3-4 hours, and finally released.

Until that time I had to wait.

In retrospect I should have brought something a little more interesting that my Summer issue of CSCE, but, I did get to learn about the construction of Cancun's second runway... with pictures!

I had to pee... I am sure you wanted to know... but I do have something to share about that. Walked to the bathroom, and in all kinds of liberation I lifted my dress, peed, and was on my way back to My room (note: I did wash my hands). What was my insight to add here? Damn, those dresses are liberating... all sorts of flow, and breeze, and well... you get the idea.

I was done the CSCE magazine so I tossed it in My closet. There was a knock on my curtain, that sounded very much like "knock knock" followed by the entry of my porter complaining some about how there are no doorbells on the "rooms." While we were waiting for the Nurse to send me on my way, the porter (a very friendly woman) made some chit chat about raising the stretcher. It is much easier to push at its maximum height, and it is much better for your back (you being the pusher). She continued to talk about how she always shows other people that raising the stretcher makes it much easier. Actually, her husband has a bad back and she really does not want one. Injuring a back is sort of one way; it is good until it is not. And then that is it.

It was about then that I chose to inform her that I was in there for my back. What a look. She then told me that is how you put "both feet in your mouth." She apologized profusely, and I told her that I was not offended and not to worry about it. I don't think she was reassured. The Nurse came and sent us on our way.

What a strange feeling it was to be wheeled around in a bed. I felt like I was in a movie, or I was dead, or something. More chit chat as we wheeled from Day Surgery to the OR. She parked me in a hallway outside the OR to wait. They were just waking up the last patient and rolling him out. Lots of people came to introduce themselves while we were waiting. I met one of my nurses, I met my two anesthesiologists (one of which who requested that when I hear here voice that I not swing at her. Evidently men strike out when they are disoriented and in aims of not getting struck out at she asked me to try to remember... she also told me I would not remember any of that, but that she thinks asking people ahead of time helps), and I met one janitor, and some other people that do... I don't know what. Most of them asked my name, and checked with my bracelet.

I would like to make a special note here to thank my boss Dean who gave me invaluable advice. He told me to make sure that I was in for what I was in for and not say... a vasectomy... Dean... they did ask me what I was in for and I was damn sure to tell them microdiscectomy...

They rolled out the guy ahead of me and then mopped the floor. Then...

They rolled me in.

There were a lot of people. Most of whom I had met a few minutes prior. The nurse rolling me in asked my name and what I was there for. Then when we were in the OR she asked me to tell a nurse named Gavin what my name was and what I was there for.

The anesthesiologist resident who met me in the hallway gave me an IV... which really sucked, since I could feel the hose slide into my vein. At the same time someone took my blood pressure. Some lights needed adjusting and I could hear the surgeon jump on the job saying that in the preparations for surgery he didn't get to do anything.

Some of you may know that when I have bits of metal stuck into my I have a tendency to shake. This holds true for all kinds of needles, including IVs. So... I was shaking, and... I was laughing slightly. They slapped a gas mask on me and got things started. First I was given some oxygen, then I was given something that made me dizzy. Lights blurred, and voices had a tendency to stretch with a mild echo. I was told that my hands would feel heavy and soon my eyelids would as well. Heavy? My IV made my arm feel like it was getting run over by a car, but that was a fleeting sensation as my eyelids began to droop.

The last thing I remember hearing was a pat on the shoulder and someone telling me "You're in good hands."

I cannot imagine a better way to go to sleep.

Part Two

Evidently I had been awake for a few minutes. I had been talking with the doctors and nurses and trying out my legs to make sure that they worked properly. I overheard that in this time I had told them that my pain was a 9/10.

Let me first explain a few things. At this point I was awake, but I was not conscious. My body was awake, but I was not there. Also, my pain scale incorporates some rather terrible things. In three years of injury I have found that my 10 on the scale makes the pains of everyday living look like 1's and 2's. Now we can move on.

I came to consciousness in the middle of testing my legs. I was asked to push them down, and to pull them up. My left left barely felt responsive. The next thing I was aware of was the pain. It seemed that pain at a 1 came into my awareness and within seconds it sped from a 1 to a 10 and then exploded from a 10 to something I had never experienced before. I guess it was a 10 since 10 is as high as it goes, but my horizons for pain had been completely demolished and remoulded.

I was aware for only seconds and going from communicating to the staff in recovery to screaming out in pain. I cannot imagine how many people were in recovery, or how the nurses around me dealt with it, but I screamed.

I remember going to the Invermere Hospital once for the Flu or something, and while I was there I could hear a man crying out in pain. He had been given the maximum amount of Morphine and was still screaming.

Today... that man was me.

I could hear them talking. I could hear them saying they had given me 14 out of 15mg of Morphine, and I could hear them trying to figure out what to do next. I could hear them, but I cannot remember it all. I was consumed by pain. I was screaming. My body was wreathed in agony.

A nurse told me I needed to relax my hands. I tried. I think that the IV was not working properly because my hands were both clenched to the railing of my bed. My knuckles and fingers were white with the effort. I was able to release my hand with the IV, but not the other.

Once the Morphine was in I was able to focus. I could hear them, and I could speak back between my screams. They asked me to take deep breaths. I tried. They asked me to breathe in the oxygen at my nose. I tried. I told them my nose does not work that well and I could not breathe. They told me to breath through my nose, or my mouth, or whatever, but what they were really telling me to do was breathe.

Between screams, I did.

They told me I needed to relax. I was flexing pretty much every muscle I have. In the pain everything was pulling together tight in agony. They asked me to relax, I told them I could not. They told me to try.

The anesthesiologist appeared, called from somewhere, and he was quickly informed of my situation. He made some quick calls to throw some more drugs into my IV. I believe this new one was an anti-inflammatory. He said it was fast acting and I should get relief soon.

My screams slowed to cries of pain. The intervals were infrequent, but that was an improvement. He told me that given my history with the pain killers it is likely that I have a resistance to them. He told them that this kind of flare up can happen with chronic pain like mine.

My cries decreased gradually as the added drugs to my IV.

Then there was an exhausted silence.

I was very sure to thank my nurse. In the midst of it all when they were trying to reassure me all I really remember saying is that "I trust you." They were my guardians, and they did well.

That 40 minutes I was supposed to be in recovery turned into two hours.

Then they brought me home. Back to day surgery. Back to my room. The nurse rotation had changed. I needed to rest more in the hospital before I could be released. I told the nurse I would be fine, but I would need to go to the bathroom.

She helped me get up and out of bed. She helped me get my gown re-snapped up, and she helped me walk down the hall. That was the first I had moved since I had woken up, since the pain had held me immobile. That was the first I was on my feet and the first I had walked.

I was back and in bed.

I lay there for the rest of my stay. Nurses came in to check my vitals, and to give me information, but mostly I just lay there. I was drowsy, but I could not sleep. There was too much action around me. My curtain walls protected me, but there was too much proximity. I cannot sleep with motion around me, it is not safe. There were to many sounds. To much everything.

After a while I asked when I could go.

She said that it would be half an hour and I could call my ride and get dressed.

I did.

Felt like forever, but I finally saw Mom walk into my room. I was on my feet, in a wheel-chair, and on my way.

We were in the car in no time.

There was a brief stop at Sobey's for some junk food, and then we came home. I was glad. The car made me sick. There are still a lot of drugs in my veins.

I lay down, and I slept.

When I woke, I came here to tell you my story.

Here it is.

To all those around me... thank you for your support.

It is time to rest again.