kris

Kris' wisdom

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"In baseball, they don't make football analogies."

If I didn't already know Kris' favorite sport, I would now.

Kris testing

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Kris had some routine tests done today, so I spent the day with him.

Sorta.

I spent the day taking him to the hospital, waiting for him, waiting even longer for him, waiting even longer longer for him, picking him up, driving him home, assisting him into the bedroom, and waiting for him to wake up hours later, worrying as he slept that he wasn't okay.

He wasn't allowed to eat anything solid yesterday, nor anything at all since 10PM last night. I've been sick and not eaten for a day before, and it's not a pleasant experience. At least I would have water, which Kris couldn't have. At some point, you just stop being hungry. I'm not sure Kris ever hit that point - he was in good spirits this morning.

So, off we went. When we arrived at the office, there was one other person in the waiting room. When Kris actually left me to head into the back room by himself, about 45 minutes late, the entire waiting room was full, with more people arriving as I was leaving. I was on a mission to find wi-fi I could use for the next hour and a half while Kris was, uh, busy.

Instead of lugging my 20# backpack, I dropped it off at my car and called Dad to let him know he'd be receiving a set of keys this weekend. He wondered what was happening with the Larson house, and was pleased to hear the purchase had gone through (Five page. FIVE pages. That's how many pages you have to read, signing only two of them, when you purchase property in Indiana without financing, five. Crazy.). We talked for a half hour, and off I went in my wi-fi quest.

Times like these are ones that I really really wish I had an EVDO connection, or some mobile modem connection. Instead, I spent 25 minutes walking to the Starbucks, to realize there was one 20 minutes closer to the medical office only after I arrived. A glass of milk and a quick note to the office letting them know if I arrived this afternoon, it'd be later, as Kris went in late, and back I went to the office. I arrived to an empty waiting room, and notice that Kris would be another half hour.

I managed to read a couple magazines today. Does that count?

Sans wi-fi, I worked on client work I could work on, work I had downloaded, but was still feeling a little disconnected. Not nearly as disconnected as Kris appeared when I finally went into the back room to pick him up. He was so out of it, he didn't even use "Kitt" as his wife's name, causing me to wonder who the nurse was looking for when she kept asking for "Kathryn."

Kris slept when I brought him home. Cramping and severe abdominal pains are post-procedure possibilities, so I was unable to leave until he woke up, which wasn't until around 6.

The day was fairly pleasant, though strange. Not sure what Kris went through was worth it to get me to stop working for a day, but it was still a good day.

Next time, maybe I won't feel so guilty about not working to actually enjoy it.

Update: Ah! At one point, after I was listening to the doctor tell Kris, and hence me, the preliminary findings of the tests, the nurse was explaining the possible post-procedure problems. She said Kris may feel bloated, so, if he wants to, let him, uh, ... She paused. I almost said, "Fart?" but her level of discomfort made me look at her with a blank expression.

"If he wants to, uh, you know," she gestured to her stomach, "pass, you know, his stomach, if he needs to,"

The effort to suppress my laughter almost made me fart. How can a nurse not be able to say, "pass gas," "break wind," or "fart?"

Infinite levels of crapola

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Three weeks before Sectionals, so part of me should be infinitely careful woth my physical well being. Three (two?) sectionals in a row with injuries, and you'd think I'd be more cautious with my muscles and joints.

But no.

Second drill, having felt very good through the warmups, and the first drill, second run, where we were practicing the give and go, the going on the mark after a throw, which I athink I'm actually good at, and *zing* pulled right quad.

At least it wasn't the left leg, as every other injury aeems to be. It's still an injury, though.

I'm frustrated. I cried.

I'm tired of sucking at this game. I'm tired of working my ass off and being injured. I'm tired of every telling me everything I'm doing wrong. I'm tired of not being quick, or skilled, or useful.

I'm tired of playing an entire game without once touching the disc.

I should have retired two years ago when the sport broke my heart. I wish I'd had the strength and wisdom then to leave, instead of torturing myself with self-doubt and self-frustration.

At least now Kris agrees this will be our last year at elite. I wonder if we'll keep playing at some other level.

Doing a favor

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Inspired by a post from Tara, I went to go look up my M.... personality style. I've taken this test many times before. I know, however, that, if a person works at it, he can change his personality and mannerisms to express a different personality type. Although I can't walk into a party and work the room the way Ben can, at least I'm not the wallflower I was in high school, and can be fairly comfortable in a crowd.

So, I went to take the personality test to see if indeed, I had changed.

Part of the problem with taking personality tests that ask questions about yourself is that sometimes, depending on how the question is worded, you don't know the answer about yourself. Your friends or family can answer the question immediately and without any consideration, as they know you from the outside. From the inside, things aren't always so clear.

After I finished the test (discovering that I am, at this point, a slightly expressed ENTJ, the first time I'm not fundamentally an INTJ), Kris asked to take the test, too. Since the question was 72 questions long, I handed him my computer and waited for him to take the test.

He, too, had to ask me for help on some questions about how I perceived him, just as I had to ask how he perceived me. At some point, he asked me what I thought his yes/no answer should be to the statement, "You give freely to others asking nothing in return."

I said no, that wasn't necessarily the case. People had to ask him, and, well...

"If I'm doing you a favor, make it easy for me," he commented.

Yup. Exactly.

Sleepy answers

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This morning, as I was half asleep, trying deperately to sleep for those extra few minutes, huddled close to Annie for warmth in the early hours, Kris came in and asked me a question.

Not quite waking up, I answered it.

He wandered out of the room, and back in a few minutes later, asking for clarification. Still half asleep, I responded, then drifted back asleep again.

I really shouldn't be answering questions in a half awake state. I never know what I'll get when I do. Especially when those answers involve giving away one of my computer passwords.

When I went to my computer after waking up fully this morning, I looked to find iTunes open. A few clicks, and a hovering-smirking Kris, later, I realized that I'm the proud owner of nearly the entire Guitar Hero 2 playlist.

"I have to practice somehow," was Kris' only response.

Coal Creek

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Coal Creek hike with Mom yesterday. We took a wrong turn and almost finished the hike in 45 minutes. I set us straight, we back back-tracked on the trail to go the long way. 3 hours later, and Mom was too tired to be angry with me.

I really should realize that not everyone is an ultimate player with a start-stop-start-stop all day fitness mode.

Then maybe Mom wouldn't need to be mad at me.

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