Thursday For Lee

It has been a very bizarre, sad, reflective, somewhat disappointing, and yet encouraging couple of days.

For Mark McAdow, my best friend in high school, to have gone from a basically good human being (although a bit lacking in ambition) to his tragic self-demise on May 17^th came as a huge shock to me. As much as I try, I still cannot get my head around what could have been so bad in his life to have ended it. I’m still not (and never will be) in even the same universe when trying to comprehend the “how”.

I’ve spent time thinking about what a loss, what a shame has been suffered here. Here he was, months away from realizing the birth of his first grandson. Here was his first chance to teach a grandson the finer arts of the free throw, the jump shot, blocking out when rebounding, and the importance of playing defense with your feet and not your hands. Here was his first chance to teach a grandson a general respect for timber, which he studied in post-high school years. Here was his first chance to see yet another “McAdow” grow up.

I’ve spent time reflecting on those heady high school years, when Mark was happy on the basketball court, playing with a joyful abandon, always seeming to have a smile on his face as he played, knowing he had his next move planned. He loved basketball … and always excelled at it. I’ve read, with smiles on my face, the challenges he threw up to me in my yearbooks, as we progressed through high school and his father Bob’s reflections that I would be an “All-State” selection before Mark would. I think Bob did that to light a fire under Mark’s ass. The record shows that strategy worked.

I’ve also spent time reflecting on and smiling about all those “not-so-scholarly” and “not-so-up-and-up” times we had in school. I had to laugh, the other night, when talking to Diana and she informed me the City of Lawrenceville Parks Department had installed surveillance cameras in the Lawrenceville City Park. They’re only 30 years late. I also think the western-most wall of Lawrenceville High School should be dismantled one brick at a time, to be preserved, unless time and weathering has been unkind to the work of art left there three decades ago. I’ve also wondered if Maude is still running, and if she could still land on all fours, after a 60 mile-per-hour railroad crossing jump, and if "Boob" Perrott still knows how to scream like a little girl from the back seat, “mid-flight”.

I’m also disappointed that the airlines don’t fly into “Lawrenceville-Vincennes Airport” or “Mid-American Air Center” or whatever they call George Field these days. Janice and I checked into our possibilities in going out for Mark’s visitation and burial, and nothing worked, whether to Evansville, Indianapolis or even Louisville KY … Price, schedule, and a number of other factors weighed heavily on our decision to forego attending. An unexpected requirement of me to install a software upgrade on Sunday also didn’t help matters.

However, we will be there in spirit, if not in body. I arranged a floral delivery to the funeral home today with Lawrenceville Greenhouse, and we are planning a visit to a local church on Saturday to put in a good word on Mark’s behalf, with the man upstairs.

The encouraging part of this post is that I had a second follow-up visit to the Orthopedist today, and another set of x-rays. The films confirmed that indeed, the break has healed - no more partial black line on the x-rays, indicating there was a bit of bone yet to knit. So THIS is a good thing. After further examination of the ankle area, the good Dr. Rubano did inform me I had a pretty good case of tendonitis going on with the Achilles tendon, assured me that this is common when someone has their ankle in a cast for six weeks, and suggested Advil, heat, and getting more aggressive with putting weight on it without the stirrup cast. Sooooooooo … at least I now have a better understanding of what all that pain is from, and a battleplan on what to do, and what to next work for.

Dr. Rubano did not, however, clear me to drive ... yet. He won't do that until I've mastered either a single crutch, or the use of a cane, and admitted to "liability laws these days" ... "blah, blah, blah." I’ve found it rather difficult to master the whole “use one crutch” thing, in part perhaps to my left-handedness and the concept of using a crutch on the opposite side of the body of the affected part. It’s a bit weird … but don’t go breaking your ankle to try it. I will be pushing Karen at physical therapy, to give me some more work. I am chomping at the bit to get back behind the wheel of my A6, dammit!

Anway, I did experience a momentous and another encouraging event this afternoon ... after letting some heat get to it, and time for the Advils to kick in, this afternoon I decided to “push it a bit” and one-crutch it to the bathroom. Maybe I hadn’t let the Advils kick in enough (it hurt like a b*stard), but I gingerly made my way in, and made it back. I think the old adage should be reworded to “When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Do Whatever Is Necessary To Make It To The Bathroom.”

Sorry this post is so long … just had some thoughts to “put to paper” here. :)