Slow Recovery

So after I got back from Montana, I spent an entire week on my back, trying to recover from DVT, or having a blood clot in my calf.

I went to the doctor, and he took a blood sample to see how thin my blood is. Then he instructed me to stay off of my leg as much as possible.

Within a couple of days, the swelling went down. It seemed as if the swelling acted as some sort of barrier to the pain. Because as soon as the swelling went down, the pain increased. It was almost more than I could stand. The doctor had instructed me to only take over the counter ibuprofen. I was downing a cummulative 1200mg a day. Also, I was sleeping several times during the day. It seemed like sleep helped with the pain.

A week later, I was not feeling well, but the next event was upon me - the Coconino County Fair in Flagstaff, Arizona for the Labor Day weekend.

I was pleased to see my Muslim friend Ali there. I was also pleased that my friend Joy, whom I have known since high school, allowed me to stay at her home. Having a comfortable bed to go to after work helped.

The fair in Flagstaff was busy (but rainy). I sat behind the booth in a camp chair, with my leg propped on a pillow while I took orders. But leg started swelling up again anyway.

On Sunday, my wives and some of my younger children made the two hour drive to the fair. While I worked, they had a fun time at the fair. We also had a fun time visiting with my friend Joy and her husband, and we took the long drive home the next morning to see some other dear friends in the Verde Valley (and introduced them to Temple for the first time.)

The next day, the swelling had spread up my thigh. It was all the driving. After consulting with my doctor, I made a tough call. I was due to leave the next morning for the Utah State Fair. That was a ten day event. But the weekend in Flagstaff showed me that, even with my leg propped up, my leg was going to swell as long as I worked. The driving was also not good on me. Logic dictated that traveling to Utah was going to make my leg worse, rather than better.

So I opted not to go to Utah.

I don't know if you are aware of what a tough decision this was. Utah State Fair was my last chance in the foreseeable future where I will make any money. The fair season is ending soon. I don't know what I'm going to do after that. Going to Utah, I would have made enough money to take care of our bills for September and some of October. Not going, I won't have any means to pay my bills. At all.

But I knew that my leg was not going to get better unless I stayed down with my leg elevated. So I decided to stay home.

And I have been going stir crazy! I love being with the kids. But all I do is lay in bed, reading. That is fun for about three days. When I want to watch a movie - which is not often, as we are trying to conserve gas for the generator - I have to rely on my own DVD library.

But the most frustrating is not being able to go out and provide for my family. I can assure you - this is anathema to the self worth of a man, not being able to bring home the proverbial bacon. Worse still, Temple has been out looking for work. Because my research has shown that blood clots can take MONTHS to dissolve. And there is a real chance that this could be permanent. In other words, who knows when I will be able to next go out and work?

And there is a part of Temple that resents this, I know. Years ago, there was a couple of months when she was the only one with a job, and the only one working. She has never let me play that down. There is a part of her that understands that I have a life-threatening condition and should not work. But there is another part of her that only sees the lazy bum, unshaven, in the same pajamas for a week, crashed out on the couch...

What woman wants THAT for a husband??


.

Kalispell - Fun With DVT

The last week in Montana, we drove to Kalispell. What a beautiful drive it is - right up on the Canadian border, close to Glacier National Park. You have to drive around the enormous Flathead Lake to get there. Jagged peaks reflected in the glacial water - it is indeed what most people think of when they imagine Montana.

When we got there, we checked into a hotel. It was nice to sleep in a bed after a month of sleeping in a tent.

But my leg was really bothering me.

Back in Missoula, we had hiked to the "M". The hike had been strenuous for someone out of shape like me. When I got down, my legs were sore from the exertion for several days. After several days, the soreness went away in my right leg. It got progressively worse on my left leg.

The night we arrived in Kalispell, I went to Wal-Mart to get some quarters for laundry. As I stood in line at the customer service desk, my leg was causing me so much pain, I could hardly stand at all.

The next day, we set up our booth at the Northwest Montana Fair, which was a disorganized mess. To make matters worse, the parking was literally a mile away, and every day I limped a mile to the booth, and every night at midnight, I limped back to the car.

I was pleased to find the same Romani that had been our neighbors in Missoula to be our neighbors again in Kalispell. We made the an airbushed banner for their booth. They promised to pay us by feeding us everyday. This is the way they fed us:

"Here, I brought you some yogurts from the breakfast buffet at the hotel where we are staying. There is also some free popcorn in that building right there. Go, and get some!"

It's a good thing we weren't really depending on them.

One morning, Rose, one of the gypsy psychics brought me a gift - a stone egg with remnants of the tag still attached to it.

"I had a vision last night to give this to you. It will bring you good luck and good health. Keep it with you always. I want you to have this."

The following is the story of what happened the day I got the egg that was supposed to bring me good luck:

The pain got so bad that I couldn't stand it. Over the past few days, I had noticed vericose veins popping out on a leg that had never had them before. This same morning, I noticed swelling in my leg, and I could barely walk. Something was wrong. It was more than just soreness from the hike. Something was really wrong, and I knew it.

I talked to my brother in law. He thought I should tough it out. Soreness was good for you. I was sore, because I was out of shape. Soreness meant that I needed to hike more often.

I called my wives. They wanted me to go the ER. I limped to the EMT tent. They told me to go to the ER. I hesitated. Going to the ER, I would abandon my brother in law to the busy crowds by himself.

The fair got out at midnight. I limped back to the truck, exhausted. My wives called me and asked if I was going to the ER. I told her I would go in the morning. All I wanted was a good night's rest. Martha started to chew me out, saying that I needed to go to the ER. So I conceeded.

The doctor ordered a ultrasound. I had deep vein thrombosis (DVT) - a blood clot - in my left calf, and a smaller one in my thigh. They put me on blood thinners right away and told me to see my doctor as soon as I got back to Arizona.

The problem was - there were two more grueling days of the fair. I worked 13 hour days, and hoped that the 6 hours of sleep I was getting would be enough. At night, I would lay in bed, wondering if I would die in the night. After all, that is how my dad died - pulmonary embolism brought on by DVT.

When we finally packed up and left Kalispell, I was filled with a sense of relief. As I felt the warm sunshine on my face and imbibed the tranquil beauty of Flathead Lake one last time, I was happy to be going home. It had been six weeks since I had seen my family, and I felt that I had been through an ordeal. I felt like I could fight this from home.

We stopped in Salt Lake City to stay the night at my sister's house. I was alarmed to see that my foot and leg had swollen to twice its normal size. It looked like I had a Flintstone foot. But I had to keep going, I had to get home. The drive was uncomfortable. I could barely bend my leg as swollen as it was. My toes were tingling, and I kept a pillow propped under my leg.

The problem with getting treatment - I don't have insurance. I haven't had insurance for years. I called my doctor. I had a leftover bill from my hospital visit from last year. I called and tried to schedule an appointment. The receptionist pointed out I still had a bill. I told her that I was aware of this. I was willing to pay half of my bill the next day. She went and talked to the doctor and this was his answer:

"I talked to the doctor, and he is willing to treat you one last time. Then he wants you to get a new doctor. We are dropping you as a patient."

"Even if I pay my billl?" I demaned.

"The doctor feels that it has gone beyond that," she answered. "Do you want to shcedule an appointment?"

"Why?" I responded bitterly. "I need ongoing care. Why would I see him only once. I'll find a new doctor."

The truth is - I know why the doctor dropped me, and so does he. When I was in the hospital last year, we had a little conversation. Don't ask me why I did it. He asked me how many kids I have. I told him, and then I told him how many wives I have. The doctor is LDS, and I literally saw the hate in his eyes after that. He finished treating me, but even as he discharged me, he looked at me with hatred. This was not a case of my delinquent bill, as the receptionist lef me to believe. It was plain discrimination. I know it. And the doctor knows it.

I had my wife call the kids' pediatrician - an old Mormon, cowboy doctor. He agreed to see me.

After two days of traveling, I pulled into my house. It had been raining, as Arizona was in the middle of its monsoon season. So the ground was muddy. This didn't stop my kids from running out to see me. I limped inside, and let the girls put me in bed with pillows propped under my leg. My leg was huge.

I didn't know what was going to happen, but I was happy. If I was going to die, it would be at home and not in Montana.

Tomorrow, I will fill you in with the rest of my little tale...

Zombie Cats - My Time in Missoula

We left the rolling hills of Great Falls and headed west into the mountains.

Montana is so beautiful with its jagged peaks, pine forests and swollen rivers. It is not a cliche to see people flyfishing in Montana. Fishing enthusiasts are everywhere. A river really does run through Missoula...

After trading a couple of days in a motel for airbrush art, we found a campground where we pitched our tent - Jellystone Park Campground. No lie. It is a theme campground, complete with a wandering employee dressed as Yogi Bear, and a huckleberry ice cream social every night. It was a nice change from camping out on the fairgrounds in Great Falls. At least the bathroom was clean.

The only problem - we had an entire week until the next event, the Western Montana Fair. So we had some time to kill.

Missoula is a very pretty city. Home of Montana State University and the Grizzlies - they love their team. It is also located near the small polygamist community of Pinesdale. We did have an offer from a relative to stay there, but it would have been about an hour commute just to go back and forth. Plus, I am considered kind of an apostate by the people there (who are part of the Apostolic United Brethren.)

Still, I wondered if I would see anyone I knew there from that polygamous community. And at the Wal-Mart in Missoula, I did. I saw a married couple that I knew back in the day, about my age. I chased them down in the bread aisle, saying, "It's me. Moroni Jessop. You haven't seen me in almost twenty years." She was very sweet. He looked very nervous, like he couldn't wait to escape.

So what do you do when you are in Missoula, staying at campgrounds and have no money? You do what everyone else does. You go to the river. We took a nice walk along the banks, watching people kyak.

We also hiked to the "M" on the side of the mountain by the university. A trail zigzags right up the side of a very steep mountain up to the whitewashed letter painted on the slopes. It kicked my ass. I could only make it halfway up. (I'll talk more about this hike in another post.)

We also saw the Missoula Symphony play in Caras Park (for free), and got to see a beautiful hand carved carousel in the middle of the park. We explored a large hippie boutique, and had some of the best burgers I've ever eaten at the Missoula Club.

One night, we decided to go to a punk show at a club called the Palace Lounge. It was three hours of earsplitting screaming, drunken people spraying us with beer and trying to pull us into the mosh pit. As I stood on the edge of the crowd, with my arms folded, I wondered - did moshing always look this stupid when I used to do it as a kid?

The main act was El Zombi Gato, a conglomeration of local artists, most of them as old as myself. They were loud and grating and kind of obnoxious.

The best act was a band called Bird's Mile Home. They were awesome. Punk rock with a cello! Plus, the cello player was hot! The only thing I kept thinking was - why do they not have a record deal? They were that good.

With my ears ringing, we drove back to our tent.

The rains came, and there were several mornings when I woke up to a large puddle around our tent. There were some nights when I stuffed dirty clothes down my sleeping bag to help keep me warm. This is Montana! Why did I not bring a jacket?

When the fair finally started, it was quite busy. We negotiated a spot right by the carnival entrance. It was almost too good of a location. We were so busy, we could barely keep up.

A couple of notable things:

We met an 11 year-old kid named Evan Kirby. This kid is going to be the next Picasso, I swear. He does these images out of slices of duct tape. They are totally off the wall and random. He is going to be famous one day.

Our neighbors were gypsy fortune tellers from Spokane, Washington. We learned a little but about Romani culture, especially their ability to barter and negotiate. They could practically talk us into doing anything for them!

Once the fair was done, we packed up our booth, tore down our tent, left Missoula, left Jellystone Campgrounds and headed for Kalispell for our final event in Montana. Which is what I will write about tomorrow...

So Falls Great Falls...

Anyway, continuing with my Montana adventures...

After Bozeman, we went to Great Falls. Joe and I took this back road through the mountains. It was spectacular.

My friend Steve said that he always disliked driving to Concho (where I live), because - whereas the drive is spectacular - the destination is kind of mediocre. That is the way I felt about Great Falls. It is flat and grassy. The only interesting feature is the Missouri River that winds through the center of town.

We set up our booth at the Montana State Fairpark, and they let us pitch a tent behind the booth. The first few days of the fair were really slow, but the last few days were pretty busy. It was a ten day event. My daughter Sophie came to visit and stayed with us for the duration of this event.

The most interesting thing about Great Falls were the people, and I will talk about some of them briefly:

Ali - He was also in Bozeman with us. A tall, black man, he had an accent, and so I assumed that he was from some Carribean island. Especially since he sells reggae t-shirts, and such.

I finally asked him, "So where are you from?"

"Senegal," he answered. So we switched to French. He was very surprised to find that I spoke French, and this is how we communicated the rest of the time.

Since his name is "Ali", and since he is probably Muslim, I asked him, "How many wives do you have?"

After a brief hesitation, he held up two fingers.

"Me, too," I answered. Ali found it very odd that an American would live this lifestyle. I really liked Ali and found that I had something in common with him after this.

Brandon - He is a high school student who has taken an avid interest in airbrush art. He owns a local go-kart track, and we spent one evening doing laps. It was great fun. Brandon is a good kid, and he hung around us so much that he became a pleasant fixture.

However, eventually his mother put an end to him hanging around with us. I guess it seemed weird to his mother that a 17 year-old kid was hanging around grown men. We are family men, but still. Maybe she doesn't want him to hang around "artist types", or maybe his mother Googled my name, which would bring up a wealth of personal information. It wouldn't be too hard.

Jessie & Pete - They ran a t-shirt booth called Outlaw Embroidery. Jessie is a great guy with a beard of ZZTop proportions. Pete wears bermuda shorts and a cowboy hat. Since people watching - no, babe watching - is my primary activity at the fairs when things get slow, it was nice to have someone like Pete around, with an eye attuned like mine to aerodynamic beauty.

Tohni - There was actually a tattoo booth at this fair, and Tohni is an apprenticed tattoo artist. She came this close to convincing me to get a tattoo. She is Chippewa Cree and has an innocence about her. Technology is foreign to her, and she is baffled by the cellphone her friends insisted that she buy.

Tohni hung out around us a lot. She went clothes shopping with my daughter Sophie. I never talked to her once about me being a Mormon o a polygamist. Yet she could sense something different about us. She told us repeatedly that she felt like she had known us forever, and that I reminded her of an uncle. She is a great person, and I hope she keeps in touch.

Enrique - Next to our booth, the techno music would pound several times a day, and a short Mexican man with a pony tail would toss spray cans around like Tom Cruise in "Cocktail". He would use his spray cans to whip out space paintings in ten minutes, using crowd-drawing techniques like lighting his paintings on fire. He drew big crowds, but we didn't mind. He got the overspill business.

Enrique was so kind, and he would greet me enthusiastically every time he walked by the booth. It was nice to meet someone so genuine.

The people we met were definitely the highlight of our stay. Camping was alright, not so great. The only shower was half a mile away in the livestock building, and you were lucky if you got in to shower. Because there was only one shower, and all the carnies used it.

So eve though Great Falls is not the prettiest people, I enjoyed being there, because of the people there.

My laptop did crash while I was there. I have yet to fix it.

But tomorrow, I will post about our adventures in Missoula...


.