Father's Day

Are we allowed to post twice in one day? Maybe it's against the blogging rules, but I feel moved to write today.

Medical. Platelets down to 40 today. Not so good. Deanna did some research and found out that Nexovar might be the culprit. Or it could be the heparin antibodies. Doc says after you stop heparin, it can take weeks, maybe a few months, for the heparin antibodies to stop messing with your platelets. We saw the GE doc today, and learned more about the option of installing a GE tube. It actually has a number of advantages over the TPN. One of which, is it's less restrictive on physical activity. I'm toying with the idea of taking up a martial art again--but of course it will have to be done very carefully. I can't find a kwan mu do instructor around here, so I'm thinking about another art with a dojo nearby. So, when the blood levels come up enough, there could be a three way surgery coming up: remove the PICC line, replace it with a mediport (still need one or the other for chemo), and install the GE tube into my stomach.

Father's Day. I really miss my dad, who passed away after a long battle with diabetes. He did difficult, dirty, dangerous work as a steelworker at the old Republic Steel plant in Elyria, OH. I remember him coming home dirty and tired, with cuts and burns on his wrists and forearms from the sharp bits of steel that hit him where neither his shirt nor his gloves protected his skin. He started as a general laborer, unloading rail cars, moving steel from place to place in the plant, cleaning up, and loading up finished product. Later he got promoted to welder helper and then welder operator. The welders are giant machines that run almost the whole length of the plant. Steel comes into the plant as long flat strips, wound around giant wooden spools. The strips go into the beginning of the welder, get heated up, and a series of dies gradually bends the long sides of the strips together to make pipe. The welder welds the seems together, and more dies can then squeeze the round pipe into square pipe. A blade scrapes the excess steel off the welding seem, which comes off as razor sharp strips, much like razor wire.

At least that's how he described it to me. After he passed away, I wanted to see it for myself, and the plant manager granted my request for a quick tour of the plant. Dad had always wanted to give the family a tour of the plant, but it was something we never got around to doing. He worked there for about 18 years while his diabetes was still under control, but then had to stop and retire early. He worked so hard to support my mother and me. My dad's work ethic was unmatched. Diabetics are not supposed to be steel workers. But he hacked it as well as any man in the plant, for his family. In many ways, I am following in his footsteps, and his bravery is an example. He had to do dialysis, I have to do TPN and chemo. He had foot neuropathy, I have foot neuropathy. He fell short of twenty years, and I did too. I deeply regret that he passed before Elizabeth was born. She was cheated of a grandfather. I intend, of course, to stick around long enough to help raise Elizabeth's children.

I remember him facing down the leader of the most notorious gang in Elyria at that time. I had a bicycle collision with a girl that this gang claimed protection over. The leader blamed the accident on me (wrong...it was her fault, she was riding on the wrong side of the street). The leader claimed that since it was my fault, that I had to forfeit my bike to the gang to replace her damaged bike. As a boy, I peeked around the corner of our house from the back yard, and watched my dad, alone, face down this leader, a grown man, and the rest of his gang, a mix of young men and older boys. My dad's courage was tremendous. This gang was reputed to have even killed a police officer.

My dad had a side business fixing home electronics. Now most home electronics are disposable--you just buy a new one when they go bad. They are not designed to be modular and repairable, and repair costs often exceed the cost of buying a new one. But back then, digital technology was new, limited, and modular. So a bad TV might be fixed by replacing a single component from one of several local electronics stores. My dad let me help him. I learned about electricity, circuits, tools, test equipment. But perhaps the most important thing I learned about was integrity.

I don't think my dad ever actually used words like integrity, honesty, fairness, ethics, etc. But his example was enough. One memory stands out in particular. A neighbor brought his TV over, and dad said he would try and fix it. The family were working poor people like us, so as a favor to this neighbor, dad said he would only charge him for parts.

He worked on this thing for several weeks. He would find a suspect part, buy a replacement at the store, and put the new part in, only to discover that the TV still wouldn't work. The suspect part really wasn't bad, and he had to start looking all over again. The same thing happened over again several times.

But then he finally found the bad part, replaced it with a new part, and called the owner. Despite the fact that he had put weeks into this piece of junk and spent a lot of money on parts that turned out to be unneeded, dad only charged this man for the price of the one part that fixed the TV--not for the other parts, and nothing for labor. He was true to his word, down to the last penny. Compare that to the widespread epidemic of a lack of financial ethics that we see today.

I remember him talking about it later. He said if he had been better at his job, he would have found the correct part the first time, and that he had learned a lot from this uncooperative TV. He said he could always use the extra parts to fix other TVs later. And besides, he had given his word to a neighbor. I have never met anyone anywhere with a greater sense of integrity than my father.

Courage, work ethic, integrity. These are the words that come to mind when I think of him.

I love you Dad,

God Bless you all,
-Mike