hahahahahahhaah FUCK

I just wrote a WHOLE bunch and then I accidentally logged out of Google and it was all lost.  That sucks.

What do I want to do with my life?  That's the question that I constantly ask myself.  It's a question that I have been asking myself for many years.  I have been looking for a way out of IT for a long time.  The problem is, that I have no idea how do it.  I don't know what the steps are to get out.

Right now I am working for a company and my title is "Network Solutions Architect".  Yea, I don't know what that means either.  What I am doing now is project coordinating as well as making technical decisions.  Which is pretty cool if I am being honest.  It's an interesting direction that I have taken that I have never really done before.  Well, the technology that is.  The problem is that this was a job that I had to take.  When I lost my job, it was just as the down turn started.  There was no work to be had.  Any work that was available was not one where an organization is going to take a risk on me and give me a role that I was seeking.  

What I was looking for was a role quite similar to the one I had at my previous job.  I was the Network Lead and I was responsible for making decisions on how the technology was going to be used, I owned issues, I lead people.  This is what I wanted.  

The deal was that I worked there for years and was in a position of creating the role for myself.  Once I created it, I really liked it.  It's what I want to do.

Now that the plans of moving to Victoria are finalizing and the date is coming closer I am crushed by the question of "What do I want to do?"  I have no training in leading people.. so someone is going ot have to take a chance on me.  Even if they do, I still have no training.   This is where the fear comes in.

A number of months ago I went spoke to a psychologist because of issues i have having with Body Image and things like that.  After a couple meetings we had both agreed that these feelings like stem from a lack of fulfillment in my life.  I work a job that I don't really like, doing things that don't bring me joy.  We did a bunch of work in regards to trying to determine what my values are.  Learning and Freedom were the big ones.  I love to learn.  I will learn anything.  I am a sponge.  I wasn't doing that enough.  Freedom.  She came to the conclusion that my desire for freedom, which would mean that I love living my own life.  Doing what I want.  I don't like having responsibilities.  She talked about why I have struggled moving forward.  That I have a fear of success.  That when you are successful, you have more people depending on you.  Watching you, needing you, looking to you for answers.  That shit fucked me right up.   She was right.  

So here I am now, trying to resolve those feelings and trying to move past them.  How do I do that?  How do I move from being what I am now, which is a guy who gets job because of the relationships he's developed and is able to do pretty much any piece of work that's given to me because I can figure it out to someone that stops all that.  Stops it making the money I make, stops doing things I know and moving towards something I don't know?  From talking to her I knew that I wanted to be a coach or a psychologist.  This is what I want to do.  I just have NO idea how to make that jump?  I am literally scared to do it.  I don't know anything about post secondary.  I don't know how to school gud.  I am so scared to make this jump.

Though wouldn't this be a perfect time?  When I am moving to another city, with my new wife to a place where no one knows me.  Why don't I try something new?  Jesus Christ, it all sounds so fucking logical. 

I suffer from something that I don’t know how to explain.  To be self deprecating I’ll call it immaturity.  I just want someone to tell me how to do something when it comes to moving forward or meeting obligations.  Like, I want my wife to tell me when to pay my Taxes and other bills.  I want someone to walk me through how to enroll in school.  I am so fucking intimidated with applying for school. 

A few months I met with a student advisor at the University and talked about what I would need to do to enroll in in Psychology.  First off I would need to upgrade my Math and my English.  Why haven’t I done that yet?  BLARGG!

My new life is fucking starting.  I need to gain some control and make some changes towards the direction I want to take.  If I want to be a psychologist, then go and be one.  If you want to be a coach, go get it.  If you want to me an IT Manager, do it. Out of those 3 I would still like to be a psychologist.  I know what I need to start the path.  GO!. 

The worst part is that I know that once I start, I’ll love it.  Like I said, I love to learn.  Now I get to learn things that I want.  How on earth can that be bad?

Maybe my panic today comes from the fact that in my current job I am doing things I don’t want to do and I feel a little overwhelmed with the fact that change is coming and I don’t know what direction to go. 

This is all on me.  I make these choices.  I can choose to just do what I have been doing and remain unfulfilled in my life, which manifests in some pretty self destructive ways. Or I can choose to move in a new direction.  To enjoy the vastness of life and its experiences.  After all, sure as shit, doing IT isn’t the pinnacle of the human experience. 

Well.. I think I have told everyone that I needed to tell that we're moving to Vancouver Island in July.
I got the opportunity to have lunch with my sister.  She was very excited for us.  She was happy because her and her family are always looking for a reason to go out to the coast.  Now there is one.  That feels really nice to hear that she's excited for us.  I don't know why but I was worried that someone would be like "Oh no.. that's a stupid idea"  Don't get me wrong that likely wouldn't have deterred us from going, but it would have been a bummer.  Everyone that we have told has been super excited for us.  Most of the jealous.  haha.  So yea.  Good news.

Last night was the wife's birthday.  It was so fuckin' nice to go out with her.  It's been too long.  Between my hand surgery a couple weeks and her foot surgery 2 weeks ago, we haven't been able to do much together.  She's been cooped up in the bedroom watching TV.  I can't just sit in the bedroom hanging out with her.  I'd go mental.  So last night she wanted to go to the Calgary Tower for dinner.  That was an amazing view.  The food... well.. meh at best.
After dinner we went up to the observation deck.  I stood on the glass floor looking down and yea.. it made my balls tingle haha.  Afterwards we went for a drive around the town.  Like I say, it was a nice night with her.

Off to Victoria tomorrow for the LANtasy internet super web party times.  I was looking forward to going and playing some games, meet some people.  I have been made to work now.  Which is cool too.  I might get a staff lanyard.  Which I will of course flaunt.  People will ask me for help and I will tell them that our software doesn't support that.
Looking forward to seeing the ocean tomorrow.  I believe the cherry blossoms are out right now.  At least that's what these asians are posting. I haven't seen a full cherry blossom since I lived in Japan.  oOoooOO memories.

END

Hi!

Some lady from a newspaper in Washington DC asked me about my hand surgery.  I posted that picture that I linked yesterday to the IMGUR community and sent me a private message asking me about it.  This is the story that I told.

About a year ago I noticed a nodule on the palm of my left hand about an inch below the base of my ring finger.  It started out as a bit of a dent in my hand.  Almost like the fascia in my hand had been pushed to the side.  The nodule was sore to the touch but did not affect my day to day activities.  No big whoop.

As time went on the nodule increased in size and started to become painful even at a state of rest.  The nodule continued to grow in length, width and height.  It became visibly noticeable on my hand. Once in a while people would as me about it because they could see it.  I of course would tell them to touch it and sick them right out.  

As it grew, it became more painful and my ring finger began to lose mobility.  It was able to curl it in to make a fist, but I wasn’t able to hyper extend the finger backwards.  Doing so would cause a significant amount of pain.  It got to the point where I was unable to extend my fingers in an open hand formation.  Preventing me from doing cool activities like push ups and giving sweet high fives. 

Being a stubborn male, I didn’t go and see a doctor for a while.  When I did, my doctor knew what it was immediately and sent me to a plastic surgeon.  The surgeon talked to me about options to remedy the problem.  He explained to me that I had a disease called Dupuytrens disease.  That it's a hereditary disease that has the unfortunate side effect of coming back.  It was explained to me that within 5 years there is a 50% chance of a reoccurrence.  I spoke to my mother and she is not aware of anyone on her side of the family who has it.  My investigation found that another name of this disease is “Viking Hand” and is something that people of Scandinavian decent get.  I am Danish, so.. the makes sense. This is my fathers fault!   

The options that were offered to me to remediate the problem were surgery or injections.  With the surgery they open up the hand, remove the tissue, stitch up back up and you endure a 6 week recovery time.  This solution was covered by Heath Care (I am Canadian).  

The other option was to do an collagenase injection of an enzyme which breaks down the excess tissue.  The recovery for this treatment was about the same as the surgery.  This would have been a cost of $1500 dollars.  As the recovery was explained to me to be about the same, including risks and reoccurrence (As you have seen from my picture) I chose the former solution.

As I waited for the surgery, the fascia tissue continued to grow.  In fact it seemed to pick up speed.  It knew that it’s time was limited to it would wreak as much havoc as possible.  By the time of the surgery the excess tissue now extended about quarter inch from the base of my ring finger to an inch above where my wrist starts.  The pain was constant and significant.  Though I could use my hand, I definitely knew that there was something going on in there.  I would often over extend my finger and I would have to stop, endure the pain, relax, rub it then continue.  

The surgery took place on Feb 16th 2016 in an out patient clinic in a hospital.  I was given block freezing of the hand and was awake for the procedure. (no, I didn’t look...gross, Sara)

Laying on my hand with my left hand extended out, my hand  was frozen, and all the blood was pushed out of my hand.  It was rather uncomfortable because of the tunicate that they put on my arm was increasingly tight to prevent blood flowing back into the hand.  

The picture that you saw has about 20 dissolvable stitches in it. The procedure, once they started lasted only about 20-30min.  My hand was wrapped in combo soft/hard cast.  The hard part held my pinky and ring finger stationary but the soft part allowing my thumb, middle and pointer fingers some mobility.  This cast was to stay on, dressings unchanged for 10 days.  I would be set up with an appointment with a physiotherapist who would remove it.  I was perscribed 325mg of Toradol and was told “don’t be a hero.  This is going to hurt.  Take the pain meds”.   I went home and my hand was frozen for about 6 hours… then the pain started to creep in.  I took 2 of the Toradols and hoped for the best.  I wasn’t a huge fan of taking opiates if  didn’t need them, though I had no interest in being a hero.  I consulted with my paramedic sister and nurse friend about some pain therapy.  It was suggest that I take 1000mg of acetaminophen and 400mg of Ibuprofen every 6 hours.  I started this regiment and it worked so incredibly well.  I was virtually pain free and still had all of my mental faculties.  So with tat being said, the pain wasn’t that bad at all.  Just annoying.  

I took this combination of pain medication for 3 days.  After that, the pain was very low.  Just the every once in a while bump or movement.  Still, once in a while now, as it heals, I take 500mg of acetaminophen but certainly not daily.

10 days after the surgery I met with the physiotherapist.  She removed the cast and I got to look at my poor hand.  Swollen, bruised, red… but clean, wounds sealed.  She said that it looked really good.  I looked at her like she was crazy. It looked like a dog got a hold of it.  Anyway, she gave me some soap and got me to clean off the dried blood and to wash my hand.  That was one of the most amazing feelings ever.  I have to tell you.  Heaven.  Imagine scratching an itch that has been taunting you for 10 days.  

The therapist and I talked about exercises that I would have to do for the next number of weeks.  My hand had become very stiff from being immobilized for 10 days and on top of that, the fascia that was removed was right on top of the tendons that go to my ring and pinky finger.  The exercises are pretty standard.  Range of motion, stretching, things like that.  I was also asked to begin gently massaging the wound to begin the break down of the scar tissue in the hand.  So, every 2-3 hours I go through my exercises which takes about 10 min or so.  

I was also given a splint to wear at night which extends my ring and pinky finger straight out, to prevent them from curling and having the tendons shorten.  Still every morning they are very tight and sore, but that is in part of the wound still being tender and there being a rather significant scab on the palm of my hand.  

So here we are.  23 days after the surgery and I’m working just fine, doing my exercises, irritated once in a while as the skin dries out and cracks on its way to falling off.  All in all, it’s doing pretty well.  I have a follow up with my therapist next week and also the surgeon the week afterwards.  After all this typing I definitely need to do my exercises now!

If you have any more questions, I would be happy to answer them.  

—adam

5 Steps of equipping or training someone.

1. Do it yourself.  You can tell people how to do something, but to reproduce yourself you must be able to do it and show them.

2.  Now I do it, but you're with me.  You watch me do it.  See me in different situations.  Observe.

3.  Now you do it and I'm with you.  I watch you.  I tweek what you're doing.  I guide you.

4.  You do it yourself.  You can do it yourself now.  You've been shown how to do it.  You do it.  You do it well.

5.  People think that once you hit that 4th step, you're done.  That person is trained.  But the 5th step is one of the most important.  The 5th step is for that person you trained to do step 1 with someone else.  Again, teaching someone has a funny way of teaching you something along the way.

I can't stop picking my hand scab.

I had surgery a couple weeks ago to move some gross extra meat from the palm of my hand.
I was suffering from what is called Dupuytren's contracture.  It's also known as "Viking Hand" so that's kinda awesome.  Anyway, the doctor man took his knife and cut out my extra bits, leaving me with a 3 inch scar that makes me look like the "Boy who lived" see here. So now I have this epic scab right in the middle of my hand.  It impedes my ability to close my hand.  It's itchy.  It hurts once in a while.  It's annoying as hell.  So, like any normal person... I pick at it.  I remember quite quickly that if I pick at it, it'll heal slower or worse it'll get worse as the wound may open again.  But regardless of how much logical thought goes into that, I still pick at it.

The worst part is that there are still some stitches in there.  So on top of having this big dealy in the middle of my hand, there are these strings coming out of my skin that poke my fingers when I close my hand.  I just can'ts stands it!

The plus side is that it's healing really well and it should be all fine and dandy in a week or 2.  So I guess I just keep on keepin' on with my exercises and doing my best not to pick at it like a 7 year old kid.

On another note... I bought Battlefield 4.  It's awesome. I appreciate that I am a little late to the game.. but it's still so awesome.  I am a medic.  I love playing a medic.  You'd think I were a girl.  As girls are always healers. Yea.  I know.  Sexiest.  But international women's day was YESTERDAY.

END

This is post #1.  How many of these fuckin blog things start with some benign post like this.  "I've decided to make a blog but I don't have anything to say right now.  I just thought of it while I was sitting around."

I don't know even know what the fuck this blog is gonna be about.  Lasers?  Onions?  Birth?  Probably.  Maybe it'll be about my Diablo 3 character and how I can't manager to get through this Greater Rift and get on the god damn Leaderboards.  Maybe it'll be about how the wife and I planning on moving to Victoria in July.

It'll probably be about all those things.  Or, if I am being honest, it'll be about what most of these blogs are about.  A disconnected string of subjects that last for 4-6 posts and then stops.  "Oh my god!  What happened to Tina at the dentist!  She hasn't posted since 2006.  I hope she made it"

So here's my first post.  It might be the last post.  I don't know.

I had really good soup for lunch today at work.