Segregation Revisited

I grew up during the 1950's and early 60's in Danville, Virginia. I believe Danville was one of the most segregated cities in America. As the "last capitol of the confederacy" I sometimes felt  back then the civil war was simply a temporary truce. Southern resentment was widespread; when the last union veteran  died before the last Confederate, I heard someone say, "At least we outlived the bastards."** Segregation in Danville existed everywhere as there were separate neighborhoods, schools, hospitals, bathrooms, water fountains, etc. Growing up I had little interaction with African-Americans so the whole segregation concept had no real impact on me. We were told things were "separate and equal." I accepted that even though in the People's Drug Store my father managed, blacks could not sit at the lunch counter; they could only order "to go" standing at the end of the counter.

Around 1961 sit ins began at several lunch counters. My father asked the People's headquarters in Washington for guidance and was told, we're not sure, use your own best judgement. He decided to open the counter to everyone, and it seemed to go calmly at Peoples although waitresses served blacks with paper plates, cups, and plastic utensils instead of normal washable items. My father died in late 1962 and by the following spring demonstrations were escalating. Demonstrators were beaten and arrested almost daily but the local newspaper did not acknowledge anything had even occurred. Finally the Danville white library closed to prevent blacks from using it. The library was housed in the Sutherlin mansion, the Confederate capitol site from April 3--10, 1865. Since I loved using the library I decided to use the black library. I finally realized segregated facilities in Danville were "separate but NOT equal."  Even after the white library was reopened all the tables and chairs had been removed. The summer of 1963 was tumultuous in Danville, but study history and you will find plenty of previous local atrocities and violence in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

I finished high school the next year with 3 black students in a school of around 2,000 and recall the scorn and ridicule they endured. I then went off to and graduated from an all white college. Demonstrations and desegregation efforts intensified during the 1960's, but had little effect on me personally. After college I went to work in New York and was asked why southerners disliked blacks sometimes by the same people who expressed dislike for Italians and other immigrants. During that time and for decades afterwards I judged people by their demeanor and character. Color is not a reliable indicator of whether someone was a decent person or an ass.

Recent events reconfirm to me that growing up white instead of black was an advantage especially in Danville. The recent turmoil over police actions resulting in deaths of  George Floyd, Rayshard Brooks and others along with the public response to these type situations over many decades reminds me that racism and discrimination have existed in America over 400 years. It's taken many different forms, but to me it is like a crock pot slow cooking constantly and at times boiling over.

Unfortunately, I don't have a solution except living my life treating others as I would want them to treat me. I certainly have empathy for anyone treated unjustly. That doesn't help the overall picture, but it does help keep my own conscience intact.


** Years later it was determined the last verifiable confederate veteran died in 1951, while the last verifiable union veteran died in 1956  At the rate monuments are now being questioned and removed, we may wind up a nation of pedestals.

Lance Armstrong--Revisited

I watched all 4 hours of the Lance Armstrong documentary. I began following Lance when he won the World Championship in 1993 as a 21 year old prodigy. About the only new information for me was his admission about using PEDs at 21. It's been 7 years since Lance formally admitted the doping allegations that dogged him since his first Tour win in 1999. During this documentary when asked about relevance, he said, "I am relevant." I certainly agree with that;  Lance did exponentially fuel interest in cycling in America and the world, he demonstrated that significant resources could keep cyclists ahead of those trying to regulate the sport, and like many other famous individuals, the fall from grace can be pretty brutal both financially and emotionally.

There's no question Lance paid a huge financial price. Many people will disagree, but I think he has for the most part paid the emotional price. He bullied a lot of people--both friends and foes--and I am not sure where his relationships stand with many of those folks. But you know what--it's none of my business. The one area of his impact that I would like to see resurrected is the impact he had on the cancer community. While the documentary displayed encounters with that effort, it suggested that stopped when he was asked to step away from his foundation. However, I've read articles that indicate Lance still remains available to that community. These articles were written by members of the Indiana hospital oncology staff where he received treatment, and were done with no fanfare on his part.

I hope that Lance Armstrong will take his incredible survivorship story to re-inject himself back into that role. If the foundation he started won't take him back, he is relevant enough to start a new path. Leave the lifetime ban in place; there's too much doping going on at the master's competition level. As for sponsors,, I think Lance has enough assets to live comfortably. When it comes to PEDs in cycling do not kid yourself; while cycling has been under scrutiny since Tom Simpson died on Mount Ventoux 53 years ago this stuff has been happening in almost every sport since at least 1900.

As for my original thought in 2013 about Lance running for governor of Texas someday, he has previously said that's no longer on his radar screen. However, he has proven that he can change his mind--about most any issue.
 

Back to the future--Luna Lake

Luna Lake was one of the few "happening places" if you were growing up in Danville during the 1950"s. Besides all the water, tower diving/jumping and swimming there was an open pavilion with a dance floor and juke box. Plenty of kids type food in and around the complex. Swimming was probably my father's main recreation and going to Luna Lake was about the only family activity that involved all of us at some place away from home.

I learned to swim and got my first American Red Cross life saving certificate there. A lot of my time was spent around the tower shown above. Rumor had it there use to be three levels until a guy known as Nick the Greek dove from the third level and died upon hitting the bottom. Whether true or not that level was gone before my time. I remember being afraid about diving off the top tower, until a friend yelled at me while I was on the shore "Watch this" and dove off. When he surfaced I yelled back "I can do that" swam out, climbed up, and dove off.

In the 50's we didn't own a car so we either hitched rides or rode the Danville transit bus. The bus ride from north Danville involved a bus transfer and then a one mile walk down Kemper Road. It was easier walking down to there compared to walking up, but often the trip involved a bus ride out and a car ride back. Swimming and diving were two athletic things I could do better than most of my friends so during the summer it seemed like I lived at Luna Lake.

We finally got a car in 1960, and about then our family joined Glen Oak Country Club which was well off any bus route. Some of the same friends I hung with at Luna Lake also became members, and I also met a number of new friends, mainly cute girls. I sometimes wondered why we joined a country club when no one played golf, but too much fun stuff was going on there for me to ask questions.

Luna Lake faded into my past and eventually closed in the 1960's. When I reflect on those times I suspect it declined in part due to the pressures of desegregation, but that's not really talked about. I do remember how divided Danville was over that issue back then.

The photo I copied is from a post by my facebook friend Von Cannon. I'm perplexed because it has a notation of 2/22/87. I think Luna Lake closed long before then. The notation mentions an icy slide  and a reopening in a few months. I don't remember the slide, but I think this photo was taken before 1987, and it does look like a winter photo. In 2014 and 2016 while in Danville I cycled to the site. I had to look carefully to find any evidence Luna Lake was ever there.

Nevertheless, I;ll remember the good times I had at Luna Lake.

Covid 19

We live in an interesting time: a pandemic spreading  around the globe,  fueled by social media has caused,  fear, anxiety and strange behavior. If I were 44 instead of 74 I'd be inclined to come in contact with the virus, spend my time quarantined, and then be done with it since science suggests once contracted a person is immune. Even at 74, I'm most likely in good enough to survive, but feel the need to do my part to "flatten the curve" which seems like the primary thing we``` can do to slow down the spread.

During the first week lots of items disappeared from merchandiser shelves. I understand hand sanitizer but not sure why toilet paper is in such high demand. Looking over Amazon it's apparent that Angel Soft, Charmin and Cottonelle are very popular since they are all unavailable. Lends credence to the saying "life is too short for cheap toilet paper."

Looking at the brighter side, there are some positive side effects.
1. Reduced traffic.
2. Increased fostering of dogs (not so much cats).
3. Learning to live without sports, concerts and other gatherings
4. Expansion of on line learning tools.
5. More time to socialize with family members. One post said without TV sports they noticed a spouse in the room; seemed like a nice person."
6. Frequent, proper hand washing.

They are others. One thing I am sure of, we will get through this and learn valuable lessons that can help improve the overall quality of life.

Inside the Actor's Studio

James Lipton, the long time host of this program died this week. He always ended this program by asking guests the same 10 questions. Here they are along with my own responses.

1. What is your favorite word? Movement.
2. What is your least favorite word? Politician.
3. What turns you on? Learning.
4. What turns you off? Forgetting.
5. What sound or noise do you love?  Songs by Harry Chapin, Jim Croce or James Taylor.
6. What sound or noise do you hate? Rap songs.
7. What is your favorite curse word? God dammit.
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? College professor.
9. What profession would you not like to do? Dentist.
10. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? How did you get past security?

Prostate Issues

Several years ago my prostate specific antigen (PSA) reading headed north of normal. The first time it happened my routine physical had followed  three days of long bike rides. Several weeks later blood-work indicated it was back to normal.  Before the second visit, I stayed off my bike for several days. The diagnosis was a benign prostate enlargement which meant I seldom slept all night without trips to the bathroom and  sometimes had difficulty completely emptying my bladder. Inconvenient, but a trade-off  I willingly endured to enjoy cycling. My mantra is the quote "I don't ride a bike to add days to my life, I ride to add life to my days."

Recently my PSA was again fairly high, and my doctor suggested seeing a urologist who suggested a prostate biopsy mainly to establish a baseline. I remember him saying if all 12 samples are benign, you might never see me again. A prostate biopsy is a pain in the ass both from a prep and procedure standpoint, but I decided to go through with it. 10 samples were benign, but two showed signs of cancer. On the Gleason score index one was 6, the other an 8. Several of the benign samples indicated simple inflammation which I suppose is from cycling.

Studies show that roughly one in seven men over 65 have prostate cancer. They also indicate that most men with prostate cancer usually die from something else sometimes many years later. I had three options: do nothing except wait and watch, radiation, or robotic surgical removal of my prostate. Radiation and surgery both come with lots of possible side effects/complications. I leaned towards surgery assuming CT and a complete bone scan indicated it had not metastasized.

Those procedures were negative (although a bone scan on someone 73 with 4 total joint replacements is an interesting side read), so I scheduled surgery for mid-June. The good news is I should be cancer free, and my step-son is coming from Phoenix to visit and help out for a few days. The bad news is not being able to cycle for up to 8 weeks. So I'll have to delay "adding life to my days" for a while, but sometimes trade offs are needed.

I also just had a consult with Andrew Johnston to get nutrition and exercise advice that will prepare me for not only pre-surgery but recovery post-surgery. The doctor gave me one exercise which I wasn't doing correctly. Andrew corrected that and filled my plate with lots of fundamentals. I am truly grateful to have Andrew as a friend and consultant.

Will Recycling Survive?

Recycling seems like a natural thing to do. I wonder though if it has caused us to become a "disposable" society? I believe the proliferation of plastic in our society is already a threat to our planet. Bottled water is one example. It seems more logical to simply invest in a filtration system and non-plastic containers. Another example are the plastic bags used by grocery stores. Clerks tend to use a separate bag for every other item, and if you ask them to put it all in one they want to double bag it. I think we are slowly drowning in plastic. If you doubt this look at what's happening to the world's oceans.

Currently there are doubts about how effective recycling will be since China and other countries who previously took our trash and made new products is no longer doing that. I also wonder how much of our recycling effort actually ends up in land fills? I've read several articles that suggest that is happening frequently since markets for this are disappearing.

I believe the best way to begin dealing with this is to charge for each plastic bag and bottle sold. Turning them back in would get a portion of the charge back, but not all. I I lived in Connecticut when they initiated a deposit on cans and bottles. Roadside litter just about disappeared over time. Maybe not a perfect solution but we need to start doing recycling disposing better if we want to preserve our environment

Writing Well

I think I write well and others have echoed that sentiment. I always got high marks in composition because I considered writing a craft. That trait came from my Mother who wrote two novels. In high school and college, writing was tedious because how we had to type/retype our work. Computers and word processing made writing much easier. Drafts and revisions became a cake walk and I take advantage of them. The day of my last bike/car collision I had revised a paper for the umpteenth time and still decided to go for a ride before looking at it one more time. I ended up submitting it from the Grady Hospital ICU but that's another story.

Graduate school introduced a level of writing that reduced me to a rookie; academic and research writing is a new experience. Over the last year I had to improve those composition skills. I have relied on several books to improve my writing. The recent go to book has been The Craft of Research It was written in 1995 by three professors; it's in its 4th edition with two more editors. If you need to write a research paper this book is a must read.

There are three other books that I have relied on over time.


The Elements of Style, Strunk and White: First edition 1959 (Strunk originally published a version 1920). This was my first English composition book. My current copy is the 4th edition. Still use it today although not as much as my first time in college.


On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to writing Nonfiction, Zinsser: First edition 1976. Covers writing about everything from people, places even yourself, just to name a few.



On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft, Stephan King, First edition 2000. Mainly about writing fiction from one of America's most popular fiction writers. The title says it all. King recommends every aspiring writer start with The Elements of Style.


I am not suggesting these are the only good books on writing; they just happen to be ones I like.

3 Minute Thesis Competition

Recently I entered the 3 Minute Thesis Competition at Georgia State. The initial step was submitting an abstract (250 word limit) outlining my thesis. From those submissions, Masters and PHD students were selected for a preliminary round competition. In this competition students have three minutes to outline their thesis. The rules were pretty simple: One static power point illustration, otherwise no notes, props or animation allowed, going over three minutes is automatic disqualification. I made it through the preliminary round to the finals. Placed third in the finals among masters students.

Thesis Title: Comparison of aerobic and cardiovascular changes occurring in older adults engaging in diverse types of stationary cycling

Presentation

"Good afternoon. As people age, a considerable number become less active and sedentary. This reduced physical activity can lead to chronic metabolic conditions like high blood pressure, obesity, diabetes, and heart disease. However, research has documented the benefits older adults can derive from stationary cycling. In one example a four month study involving healthy older men and women showed an overall 12% improvement in measured peak VO2 and a 13% improvement in anaerobic threshold. VO2 measures how efficiently oxygen is used while anaerobic threshold can measure energy production. These are two common measurements of physical fitness.
Studies suggest that High Intensity Interval Training exercise can increase fitness and cardiovascular health compared to Continuous Moderate exercise. However, these studies involve younger individuals. and diverse types of exercise. Most research involving stationary cycling and older adults has focused on sample populations who have a chronic metabolic condition, injury, or illness. There is no research comparing the results between stationary cycling involving older healthy adults engaging in different exercise intensities.
My research will explore how stationary cycling intensities may help older adults achieve and maintain cardiorespiratory fitness which can help them perform activities of daily living and improve their quality of life. The study will compare cardiovascular and aerobic changes between two groups. Participants will be sedentary but otherwise healthy males and females over 60 years old with medical clearance. One group will engage in Continuous Moderate Exercise stationary cycling while the other group will engage in High Intensity Interval stationary cycling. Individuals in both groups will ride twice a week over 12 weeks. Sessions for both groups will start at 20 minutes increasing to 40 minutes during the study.
Besides workload, data involving heart rate, blood pressure and VO2 max will be collected for each participant before, during and after every session. The expectation is that while both groups will experience improvement in aerobic and cardiovascular function, the High Intensity Interval group will experience a greater improvement than the Continuous Moderate Exercise group. My hope is this research will provide incentive and motivation for older adults to use high intensity interval training as a regular part of their exercise program. Thank you."

Being Mortal

Gerontology 8000
Critical Reflection # 1

Being Mortal

Atul Gawande

Introduction & Chapter 1: Being Independent

Introduction
I obtained this book two days before our first class, and read it cover to cover. The topic is of great interest to me given my age and other factors I discuss later. Gawande’s introduction confirms what I have heard for years; medical school does not spend much time teaching physicians how to deal with the dying process. According to Gawande, the “purpose of medical school was to teach how to save lives, not how to tend to their demise.” While doctors are expected to be knowledgeable, honest and sympathetic, a few years into his practice, the author realized how unprepared he was to provide support to patients facing their finality. Being Mortal deals with aging and dying in today’s world. Medical advances and technology have changed this experience compared to what previous generations encountered. Life ultimately ends for everyone, and Gawande’s goal is to help improve the ability to help individuals and the people around them get the most quality time possible during this final phase.
To me the introduction deals with the medical profession’s “bedside manner”. There’s a story where a physician says to the patient, “I’ve got bad news and really bad news. The bad news is you’ve only got six months to live.” The patient said, “Gee, what could be worse than that?’ The doctor replied, “I should have told you three months ago.” Hopefully this was a joke, but I believe many health care professionals could improve their communication, especially when issues become tough and unsolvable from a medical standpoint. Most professionals—even outside of medicine—are trained to accomplish tasks and achieve goals. When the problem becomes unsolvable, frustration and fear threatens us. However, many issues are unsolvable and eternal life is one of them. Throughout the book Gawande offers suggestions on how discussions about the final stages of life could be handled more appropriately.

Chapter 1: The Independent Self
I relate to this chapter for many reasons. I am 71 years old, and have lived alone for over 25 years. My only close family is my 69-year-old brother who lives in Olympia, Washington, and a 41-year-old stepson in Phoenix. Although I have 20 cousins all over the country, none of them are within 700 miles. I have been physically active all my life, cycle an average of 4,000—6,000 miles a year and do strength workouts 2-3 times a week. I am in good health despite arthritis and gastroeshageal reflux disease. My only medication is 20mg/day of omeprazole (OTC for GERD). I’ve had numerous orthopedic surgeries including total joint replacements on both left and right knees and hips.
The stories of Alice Hobson, the author’s father and grandfather, and other individuals in later chapters remind me the only way independence lasts a lifetime is if a person has a sudden, swift demise, i.e. accident or heart attack. Most of us will lose complete independence at some point before we die. During recovery from several surgeries, I relied on friends to help with tasks like driving and shopping. Most of the time I astonished friends and physicians with my ability to regain normal functions, but as I read Being Mortal I realize there are no guarantees about remaining independent; something can always snatch that away.
Gawande mentions Del Webb, who developed Sun City, one of the earliest communities strictly for retirees. While they have become popular, many individuals, Alice Hobson for example, wanted to stay in their own home as long as possible. I reviewed a 2014 study which examined how older adults address issues of planning for future living conditions when not under pressure to do so. The bottom line is most of them did not. A recurring theme in several Being Mortal stories is how much individuals forced into assisted living or other facilities missed familiar surroundings.
Upon reflection, I think individuals should consider communities or surroundings that offer independent and/or assisted living services while they are still independent. That could provide an opportunity to design living conditions that would accommodate some declines in independence while providing time for an individual to make it become and feel like “home” instead of a “place”. I downsized and simplified my living situation about 10 years ago. One thing I did though was buy a condominium with three flights of stairs from my garage. I did this on purpose since I felt climbing 51 stairs keeps me moving especially given my osteoarthritis. Reading Atul Gawande’s book helped me realize I should consider additional steps (perhaps a place with an optional elevator) that would provide some flexibility if or before my situation changes.

Back to the Future--Smokey Chattin

My long time friend Smokey Chattin died last Saturday on his 71st birthday. He is the first person to die that I knew and saw regularly for nearly 60 years.

I became friends with Smokey in high school when he dated my next door neighbor, Bonnie Brown. Ironically I wound up becoming friends with a lot of guys when they dated Bonnie. I didn't see much of him during my college years, but in the fall of 1968 we both wound up in Atlanta. I was on a temporary assignment with Chubb and Smokey was with Crawford & Company training to be a claims adjuster. I'd like to think that we related to each other then since we were both involved with the insurance industry, but in fact it was most likely chasing women and alcohol that bonded us. I may have those in the wrong order.

In the early 1970's I was back in Atlanta and Smokey was in our hometown (Danville). I visited Danville regularly to see my mother and we hung out together still pursuing our similar dual interests. Then Smokey met and married Liz Newton. They moved to Blacksburg and Smokey went back to school at Virginia Tech. He had started there previously but dropped out after a few semesters. He graduated, went to work in the banking business and built a new house for he and Liz. They visited me while I was in New Jersey and all seemed great.

But it apparently wasn't. The thing about Smokey was that he was intelligent, good looking, and a charmer but there was a self destructive dark side to Smokey which wound up disappointing and frustrating a lot of people who cared for him. And when things went south you really had to take Smokey's explanation with a grain of salt. I hadn't figured that out when his marriage dissolved. That pattern was repeated over the years. At times Smokey seemed like he was on top of the world and then everything would fall apart. I won't go into detail on all those episodes except to say that throughout the 1980's, 90's and beyond we remained friends and saw each other regularly since we both lived in Georgia. I may be one of the few persons really close to Smokey who never directly experienced the frustration with him that others did. He did approach me a few times asking for a favor. By the time that happened though I was pretty cautious and didn't do anything that would have cost me financially or negatively affect our friendship.

I previously mentioned our common bonds and one similarity we shared was a long term dependency on alcohol. One reason I ultimately quit drinking seven years ago was being around Smokey and realizing that alcohol was negatively affecting both of us. Once I quit it was harder to be around Smokey. In fact over the last few years the only time I spent time with him was our 50th high school reunion. We also got together for dinner with two other friends the following evening. I could tell he was not in good physical condition. Life had clearly taken a toll on him. Early last year Smokey suffered a major stroke that left him paralyzed on his right side and unable to even speak. I visited him several times in an assisted living facility here in Atlanta and for a while he improved; he could talk and use his right hand. However, it was clear he would probably never be able to live on his own. His older sister Bonnie was about the only family he had left and she lives in California; her hope was he would progress to the point where she could move him to an assisted living home out there. She visited several times and then Smokey wound up back in the hospital. He left the hospital but neither they or the assisted living home knew where he was. I checked in with Bonnie and found out Smokey was in another facility and had deteriorated to the point where hospice was coming in to evaluate. I went to visit the next day and it was tough. I wondered whether he could even last until Bonnie returned in a few days.

Bonnie along with his niece arrived to find out Smokey was back in the hospital on a ventilator. All three of us thought the end was near, but when they removed the ventilator, a decision made by Bonnie who realized he was suffering, he survived and wound up back in assisted living. On his 70th birthday last year, Bonnie came to Atlanta and organized a birthday celebration for Smokey at the assisted living facility. A lot of his Atlanta friends came and Smokey was in good spirits, but to me it was obvious by then he was never going to leave that facility alive.

I went by to see him a few times after that but he was deteriorating. He weighed well under 100 lbs, couldn't really eat solid food, and at times seemed to be in a vegetative state. To be honest it became too painful to watch the downward spiral and like several times before in our relationship I avoided going to see him. In fact the last time I visited I thought he was actually dead; finally I saw his chest barely move. He was alseep so didn't even speak to him. I found out he passed away when his daughter and some friends posted it on Facebook.

As I mentioned Smokey had huge potential and I observed him crashing, but then resurrecting himself like the Phoenix. He could have done almost anything career-wise and been successful. From banking to insurance to sales to becoming a master craftsman building and renovating homes the world could have been his oyster. There's no doubt that his lifestyle ended up cutting his life short. Godspeed Claude "Smokey" Chattin. I am grateful to have known you and happy that you are no longer suffering.

Escaping Death

If you live long enough events happen that can turn into disaster in an instant. September 10th turned into one of those days for me. Early that morning I left home heading to a cycling event. As soon as I got onto GA 400 my dash lights began dimming and my car lost power and stalled in the right lane. I couldn't even turn on hazard lights because the battery was totally dead. Fortunately another motorist pulled in behind me and turned on his hazard lights. He figured my alternator died and I had been running only on battery power which seemed likely to me. I had already called 511 to send a HERO unit and the motorist had a reflective vest and emergency hand held light to warn approaching traffic. Certainly some nervous moments until a police officer arrived.

He called to dispatch a tow truck and as the other motorist left the officer was able to push my car out of the traffic lane into the gore between the right lane and an exit ramp which led to an interstate. I breathed a sigh of relief as it looked like we could tow the car to Dekalb Tire who would open shortly. They had serviced my car many times, and I figured they could replace the alternator and I could then get on with my day. If the repair turned out to be more complicated I would simply ride my bike home and wait out whatever needed to be done. The tow truck arrived and the police officer received another call and had to leave. I later found out that at this time of morning (5:30) Sandy Springs only has two patrol cars on the road as they are going through a shift change. The tow truck driver was concerned about the officer leaving, but I figured we would quickly load my car and be on our way.

The tow truck operator raised the ramp, hooked up my car and instructed me to get in the car release brake, put in neutral and make sure front wheels were straight. I did all those maneuvers and my car was pulled up onto the ramp. The tow truck driver then told me to put the car into park and get out. I did that, opened the door and as I stepped out onto the ramp, I looked back to see headlights aimed at me coming at a high speed. I think I jumped off the ramp just as the approaching car drove up the tow truck ramp and slammed into my car. I landed in the right lane doing one of my better rolls, and faster than I had most likely ever moved in my life rolled back out of the lane. Fortunately no other car was right there in that lane then or I wouldn't be writing this. A few seconds later a motorist did pull up beside me to see if I was OK. I said I was, but asked her to stay there for just a second. She did and I reached under her car to retrieve my hat.

The tow truck driver called 911 and within minutes several police cars and emergency units were on the scene. The other driver got out of his car, phone in hand. I asked if he was OK and he muttered something about needing dialysis, sat down on a curb and began texting. A witness circled back and when interviewed by officers said he thought the other driver was texting just before impact. It made sense to me since the tow truck and my car were out of both the right lane and the exit ramp. The other driver and tow truck driver ended up going to the hospital probably just as a precaution although I figure the police wanted to check out that driver pretty carefully. The police officer who had initially responded had returned and I managed to hitch a courtesy ride back home from him. He had left to respond to a call from Northside Hospital. When he heard the dispatch about a collision at exit 4-A involving a tow truck he returned ASAP along with what seemed too be 3-5 other officers. Guess the shift change had occurred and our incident was the top story.

I spent the rest of the morning dealing with the aftermath. Trying to find a rental car on Saturday without a prior reservation took all morning and trips to two Hertz locations. Turning in a claim to my insurance company retrieving stuff from my car, and beginning the process of shopping for a another car took up the rest of my day. But in hindsight I was very, very fortunate. If I had still been in my car upon impact or if another car was passing in the right lane who knows what would have happened to me. I've had lots of encounters that could have been deadly but not since I was in junior high and wound up underneath a car after a bike/car collision had I come within inches or seconds of death. If the ramp had been lowered I don't think the other driver would have survived.

Muhammid Ali and Me

Muhammad Ali's passing reminded me of my two encounters with him. OK, the first wasn't an encounter but it was significant for me. As the second fight between Ali and Sonny Liston approached our freshman dorm at the University of Richmond formed a pool to see who would win along with the round. 30 of us each put up $10 and then we drew a name/number. In 1965 $10 was a shitload of money--at least for me--so imagine my enthusiasm when I drew Ali in round one. Well, as it turned out Ali knocked Liston down in the first round and even though the referee didn't start the count until Ali went to a neutral corner (remember the photo of Ali standing over Liston by Neil Leifer) Liston never got up and was counted out. 29 freshman started screaming that it was a fix and the pool should be disbanded with refunds to everyone, I was not to be denied. $300 was more cash than I had ever had in my life in 1965 and as I pocketed the money pointed out we had bet on the winner and ending round so whether it was fixed or not was irrelevant. To this day that outcome is still debated among boxing historians and fans.

My actual encounter occurred in 1970 right after the Supreme Court overturned Ali's conviction for refusing the draft on religious grounds. I was at the Atlanta airport on my way out of town and Ali had just come to Atlanta to fight Jerry Quarry. In 1970 the old airport had solid bathroom doors that swung inward. I pushed the door open and it whacked a man in the head who was standing just inside. It whacked him pretty hard and I immediately apologized. The man turned and said "It's my fault for stopping, I'm OK." I walked on by but noticed several guys standing in front of him; I was amazed at how big he was--he was huge. It looked like he was signing autographs for them. I kept glancing and thinking he looks like Muhammad Ali, but then surmised it can't be--that guy is HUGE. I went outside and hopped up on the shoe shine stand, and within a few minutes Ali emerged and sat down on the stand beside me. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, white shirt and tie. I noticed the stand was now surrounded by several black men also impeccably dressed; one of them handed him something and said, "Here's your ticket, Ali." I again apologized for hitting him and he again brushed it off very cordially. I then asked him how he felt about the Supreme Court's verdict and he mentioned his faith in Allah had helped him through it all.

That was it. We parted ways and I was amazed by how cordial, friendly and seemingly humble/normal he was. In the meantime I probably became the only person to hit Muhammad Ali hard in the head and not get hit back. The one thing I will always remember about Ali was his absolute fearlessness. Inside the ring he stood up to the likes of Liston, Fraizer and Foreman all of whom looked like they could destroy him. Outside the ring he stood up against segregation and racism, His religious beliefs and opposition to the Vietnam War at great personal costs and no doubt risks.

Godspeed, Muhammad Ali.

What Goes Around Comes Around

As I reflect on my 70th birthday I am reminded how often life is a circular journey. Many times I have traveled down a path only to find myself in that same place years later. For instance almost 34 years ago I came to Atlanta and worked in a Chubb office at Piedmont Center, building 3. Now I am working part time for one of Chubb's largest agencies and I'm once again at Piedmont Center, Building 3. I grew up in Danville, VA and left there in the late 1960's. Lost track of almost everyone I knew back then. Now thanks to Facebook I am connected to many childhood and high school friends I've manged to return there several times over the past few years to attend 2 high school reunions and during the one in 2014 connect with my brother to ride bikes over many of the streets we road on years ago. I am currently back in college working on a BS in exercise science with a minor in gerontology, 47 years after earning a BA in economics. Being in school after so many years is different in many respects. The course work seems easier, I suppose because I am taking courses that interest me without having to take all the core stuff I took years ago. Age and experience also make the work seem easier. One difference is it's harder for me to memorize stuff the way I use to do in order to get through course work. Another difference is I can attend tuition free thanks to being so old and can take as many or as few classes as I want each semester. That's a huge change from when I was at the University of Richmond in the 1960's trying to get done before the money ran out.

One of the most rewarding circular experiences was reconnecting with my first true love after not being in touch for over 35 years. For about 18 months I was on cloud nine until my drinking caused that relationship to fall apart. Looking back on that it was a blessing because it got me sober after a 50 year drinking career. It's too bad I wasn't smart enough to figure that out earlier. Reflecting on that gets me wondering how many opportunities I let slip by either because of my drinking or simply not paying enough attention at the time. I remember a blind date I had back in college. Her name was Page Taylor and she seemed like the nicest person I ever met. She was certainly the most attractive blind date I ever had. However, I blew it one night by picking her up for a fraternity party completely wasted. That date lasted about 30 minutes and I never saw her again. I still remember how embarrassed I was when I called to apologize; she was cordial enough but the damage was done and irreparable at the time.

There are many other situations where I either did--or did not--take action or inaction that ended relationships and friendships In some cases I had all the right in the world to be pissed off. But now as I reflect on a 70 year life span, I wonder if those people passed by me again, would I be able to either make amends or forgive? In almost every case I would welcome the opportunity to try

Othopedic Surgery # 15

Little did I know that 2 weeks after hip replacement I would be back in Northside Hospital for another procedure. Basically a few days after my initial surgery my replacement incision began draining. No big deal at first other than changing dressings several times a day. However, when it continued the doctor saw me and recommended a possible irrigation and debridement procedure; it's the type stuff done to aggressively clean out wounds kinda like what they do when you have severe road rash (which despite all my cycling and occasional crashes I've never experienced). I was scheduled to report to Northside on Thursday morning where the doctor would examine again and decide whether the procedure was needed. Theoretically I could be out in less than an hour if not needed and maybe 2-3 hours if needed. After all aggressively cleaning out a wound shouldn't take to long I thought.

I should have known that "scheduling a surgical procedure" almost always takes a lot longer. Once I'm in a pre-op waiting room the doctor looks at my incision and says we need to "nip this in the bud and move forward." I say OK let's get it done. So then I get the best versus the worst scenarios. Best case: whatever's going on is just on the surface, we clean it out, surgery is over in few minutes, but you'll have to stay overnight until culture samples grow and can be analyzed so we can treat with appropriate antibiotics. Worst case: whatever's going on is deeper and we'll need to replace some parts. Surgery will take longer and you'll stay overnight. I've been through enough surgeries to know that infections especially deep in a joint can turn into a massive long time problem so I didn't debate just signed a bunch of paperwork.

When you wake up in recovery it's hard--at least for me--to get a sense of time. Even when they told me I couldn't remember. Likewise when I asked exactly what they ended up doing about all I heard was "it was a little deeper than normal." The surgeon will go over that with you later. When I wound up in a regular room around 5:30 I figured out they most likely did more than an irrigation & debridement. Also the fact they would not let me out of bed was different from the prior surgery. There was virtually no pain which made me think I must be on something really strong, but turned out to be Tylenol.

Friday morning the doctor visited and let me know they did go into the joint and replaced a portion since there seemed to be something going on well below surface. I'm no othro doctor and can't tell you exactly what he did,but I believe what was done is the best course of action to get me up and about and prevent long term issues. The main reason I'm still in the hospital is waiting for culture results which sometime take longer a day to develop. They have installed a PICC line (central catheter line) in my right upper arm which will be used to deliver antibiotics on a daily basis for 6 weeks. I can most likely be taught how to do this myself so I don't have to go to an infusion center every day. So as of Friday night I have 2 IVs and a Davol closed wound suction evacuator device draining excess fluid from my right thigh. This is how a computer must feel like with input and output devices plugged in, but computers don't have someone coming in constantly monitoring things and also checking vital signs, almost always just after I've manged to fall asleep.

So after a very restless Friday night I wound up feeling pretty dismal about the prospects of possibly spending the weekend waiting for cultures to develop. However, the infectious disease specialist came by to let me know the cultures had not developed any sign of a specific infection which is not so good because it leaves things ambiguous as to what infection I have. However, the good news is they will treat me with an antibiotic called rocephin which should work fine over the course of time. The best news was assuming they could give me the first dose today and arrange for out patient infusions on Sunday and Monday I could go home today. By 2:00 I am getting my infusion, the out patient infusion center is open Sunday and Monday so I should be home by the end of the day All that has to be done now is the discharge paperwork which will probably take longer than surgery. I don't mind; it's like the last few miles of an ultra long ride--the end is near.

Orthopedic Surgery # 14

The past 15 months have not been very kind to me in that I've had surgery on my right femur and left clavicle as the result of bicycle crashes. When the doctor repaired my femur he mentioned my hip joint was bone on bone and I might need a rig ht hip replacement in the future. Well the future is now because over the past 12 months the pain and stiffness in that joint is reminiscent of what my left hip felt like 15 years ago. This time I am not going to wait like I did back then and have scheduled the surgery for December 17th. It will be more complicated because before my hip can be replaced the metal nails and intramedullary rod inserted last year have to be removed. The doctor in Rome GA who did the original femur repair recommended doing this in two separate procedures, but he also thought I should consider having this done in Atlanta since going back and forth to Rome would be a hassle. He even recommended a doctor I should consider.

I went to the recommended Atlanta ortho doctor who felt that the removal and replacement procedure could be done at the same time. In a pre op visit he outlined the procedure in detail. Interestingly removing last year's hardware will take as long as the replacement procedure. Nevertheless there is a good chance I will be able to go home the same day. That will be my immediate goal: get out of the hospital as fast as I can. I am very adept at figuring out how to pass post surgery protocol as home is always preferable to a hospital. As always my longer term recovery goals are measured in terms of cycling. I did a road bike ride 6 weeks after my left hip replacement and 4 weeks after each knee replacement. Each of those rides were about 20 miles. I will aim for a short road ride in 4 weeks. Hopefully that sets the stage for me to complete a 200 km RUSA event on January 30th. If I'm on target I may solicit someone to ride a tandem with me. While this may seem far fetched I did complete a 200 km event on a tandem in October, 2014, 4 weeks to the day following femur surgery.

I'm often asked why I do this stuff. The answer is always the same: given all my orthopedic issues cycling is one of the few aerobic activities I can still do. I gave up running, basketball, tennis, hiking and to a large extent even swimming and walking. About all I have left is cycling and canoeing/kayaking and it's much more convenient to cycle. Wish me luck with the surgery and more importantly the recovery.

See you on the road!!

Back to the Future--First Day at Chubb

Today my stepson Jeff sent me an email announcing the Chubb Group of Insurance Companies had agreed to be acquired by Ace Insurance. It reminded me that exactly 47 years ago today I started my post-college career at an insurance company then called Chubb & Son in downtown Manhattan. There were about 20 of us in a small training room dressed in our new business suits; most of them like me had just finished college and come to begin our business careers. We were from all over the country, and we all hoped some day that we would be the head of everything. I had been excited and nervous ever since I had received an offer from Chubb a few months before graduation. Several of us became very close friends that summer enjoying all the things New York city and the surrounding area offered. Since it was Monday we worked 3 days and then had a 4 day July 4th holiday. One of the guys, Charles Collette had a pool party at his parent's house in NJ and invited us all.

We were all in a general insurance training course for about 6 weeks, and then we we chose--or rather were assigned--to various departments. Most of us wound up in an underwriting department although a few went into Claims or Operations (1968 version of IT). I had been hired specifically for personal lines because having worked as a clerk in the Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles I had some basic knowledge--so they thought--about personal auto insurance. At the time personal lines underwriting compared to commercial lines underwriting was viewed by most folks coming into insurance as a dead end for many reasons I won't bother mentioning. But it was a large part of Chubb's overall revenue and I figured if it didn't turn around I wouldn't be blamed, but if it did, maybe I would get some credit. Over the next 10 years that's exactly what happened and my career progressed. In the late 60's and early 70's Chubb was a medium sized company with about 30 branch offices and 5,000 employees. One way to get ahead was to be willing to go where ever they needed someone. I started in New York, went to Atlanta for about 4 months on a short term assignment, then back to New York. Then back to Atlanta for 3 years, followed by a home office assignment in New Jersey. In 1976 it was off to Los Angeles and then 2 years later a nice promotion took me to New Haven. In 1982 another big promotion took me back to Atlanta.

I left Chubb in 1988 after a 20 year career. I've written about that in an earlier post so won't go into it again. But looking back on what would have been my 47th anniversary (and most likely my 4th year of retirement) I can remember with great fondness the friends I made during my career there. Most of them are either retired or went somewhere, but there are a few that I talk to occasionally. In any event today is a nostalgic day for me and most likely the second most important July 01 in Chubb's history.

Happy Birthday, Mother

Today, April 23, 2015, would have been my mother’s 100th birthday. Unfortunately, she has not been around to celebrate the last 36. Katherine Marcella Pie (pronounced pee-a) was the third of 9 children of Charles William and Nora Scollins Pie. It’s pretty amazing that my grandmother had her first child in 1909 and her last in 1928. She loved the fact she was born on the same date (not year) as William Shakespeare, even though his actual birthdate has been questioned. She grew up in Johnstown, Pennsylvania and was acknowledged by her entire family as the brightest of them all.
After high school she attended nursing school and wound up in Washington, DC at Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital. She spent time in their suicide ward which must have been stressful. I remember her telling me about a patient who attempted suicide by swallowing 47 razor blades (they must been used because he survived). She kept a journal from 1938 for about 10 years and the early portion is filled with various adventures she and her cohorts had as single females. During that time she met my father as he was heading oversees for World War II. I’ve written about their relationship in other posts so I won’t recount it here.
I remember her as someone who was adept at many things. She could sew and knit, was very quick witted and managed the house. She also wrote two novels but they were never published. The first was titled Right Out of My Mind and was similar to the book Please Don’t Eat the Daisies The second was a novel called The Invisible Scar and drew on her knowledge as a nurse. She and my father seldom argued, I can only recall 2 instances where things escalated between them and I remember because it was so unusual.
I inherited several characteristics from my mother: her love of books and the written word, her quick wittedness. After my father died she became very depressed and that seemed to stay with her for the rest of her life. She died from emphysema and smoked right up to the end. It was very sad to watch helplessly as a very talented woman never really recovered from becoming a widow. My brother and I who had been raised too survive on our own just did not know how to help. It was awfully sad and I regret not being able to figure out how I could have helped her.
In retrospect both my parents left this earth far too early because of the choice they made to smoke. It’s too bad I didn’t have more time with them as an adult, I think they both could have helped me grow and mature better than me doing it on my own.
Happy birthday, Mother. I miss you.

Hospirals & Health Care--Inside View

During the past 6 months I've been in 2 emergency rooms, 2 hospitals, undergone 2 surgeries, and am now facing time in a rehabilitation center which I think is a politically correct term for a nursing home. You learn a lot from inside this prism; here are some observations which are purely my opinions.

I have Medicare A&B, and AARP Plan F supplement through United Health Care along with a prescription drug card. The total cost is $340/month. My out of pocket expenses with this coverage have been minimal; except for co-pays on some drugs they have been zero. While I may not have access to every health care provider in my world there are plenty readily available. Having affordable health insurance, minimal co-pays and facility access eliminate lots of concern. My premiums do increase each year but they have been reasonable. Someday this system will totally implode, but probably not in my lifetime.

Health care providers have to follow many procedures, aka government regulations. It sometimes means waiting time, cant do that until we do this, etc. I also think since providers know they won't get the dollars they bill, they look for ways to increase volume with approved Medicare procedures. I've said it before, no individual really ever knows the true cost of their health care. Ever since doctors lost control no one really has control anymore. However, if the US ever completely turns it over to government control, costs will soar and quality will no doubt suffer. Ever wonder why the 3 branches of federal government completely remove themselves from traditional medical health care systems? I don't.

When you're in ER and/or move to the hospital more than one doctor may be managing your situation. That can quickly complicate matters. It is important to remain calm, ask plenty of questions as politely as possible. Usually you'll notice when they come talk to you there are 2 of them present so stuff doesn't fall through the cracks; it still can happen. Do your best to comprehend, and even when you think they are full of shit, your best response is "I'm not sure I understand the part about xxx, could you go over that again, please." I'm not the most patient person, but I am one the most stubborn so this lesson has been difficult for me. Learning to blend those characteristics into "determination" is one of my life goals.

Ever since I accidently overdosed on Vicodin to complete a century ride with broken ribs in 2007 I pay a lot of attention to pain medication management. Having overcome an alcohol problem a few years ago I don't want to develop another addiction. During the last few months I've learned that when you are in acute pain, medication is good. When needed make sure the providers know your complete health history and all medications you have been taking. Most problems arise when multiple meds, alcohol and other stuff get taken in unsupervised combinations. If possible use one pharmacy for medications and remember a good pharmacist is a valuable consultative resource, in spite of the internet. Of course being the son of a third generation druggist has somewhat prejudiced me.

Go to an ER when you wind up laying in the road after an accident or other similar potential life threatening situation. On the way, hope you will not be their top priority. Once you arrive and it's confirmed you are not, your goal is to get out of there ASAP. If you wind up in a hospital, your goal is to get treatment and get out of there ASAP. I'm sure it will be the same in the rehabilitation facility. The important goal is to move forward even if progress sometimes seems negligible.

I am anxious to get back to normal and on my bike again. It's been said this kind of stuff happens in threes; I hope my Paris-Brest-Paris incident and these 2 accidents mean I'm done with these encounters for a while.

Bike Accidents--Update

On September 9, 2013 I wrote about the bike accidents I had in over 50 years of cycling. Unfortunately that now needs updating. I've had 2 crashes that landed me in an ER; both involved fractures. One occurred on September 28th on a Randoneur ride which started in Rome. Despite a fractured femur I did a 200 km ride 4 weeks later. Details of that are in a post dated October 26.

On Saturday while doing a 115 km Rando event I crossed railroad tracks and managed to drop my front wheel into a wide gap. The tracks were at an angle and I lined up on the right side of the road to cross them perpendicular as I've done thousands of times. A car passed me going in the same direction and I was paying more attention to that than the tracks. A wide gap grabbed my front wheel and I went down on my left side. That earned me an ambulance ride to Atlanta Medical Center where after 5 hours of x-rays and CAT scan I was diagnosed with a displaced left clavicle fracture, concussion and a hip pointer.

They elected not to do surgery on my clavicle then, but a follow up discussion with the ortho doctor who has done work on me before led me to conclude surgery is the best option for me. Trying to wear a clavicle brace that I could not take off or put on myself turned out to be too uncomfortable; and this opinion from someone who knows how to manage pain. I hope to be back riding on the road soon, but will have to figure out that timetable after surgery which is scheduled for February 12.

My observations haven't changed from that earlier post, but I would add one. Emergency rooms are the place to go for true emergencies. However, your care is prioritized by the level of trauma, not only yours but in comparison to every other patient. That's not a complaint; that's how it should be. For me that translated into first class quick treatment in Rome on a relatively calm day in their ER, compared to a 5 hour wait at Atlanta Medical Center on an evening they were also dealing with 2 fatalities. I was grateful not to be a level 1 trauma.