About a week after the tests, my primary care physician called me into his office. In a calm and clear voice, the doctor told me “You have Multiple Sclerosis.” My next question to him was simple: “OK doc, what’s next?” I could not have expected what was to come. The next two years were hectic and chaotic. My MS life has always been a constant learning experience. I have continually had to remember: “Adapt and overcome.” I have also needed to get used to the fact that: “The only constant in life is change.”

Right away the doctor put me on an intermuscular injectable MS medication. For the record, I genuinely dislike needles. Sadly, at that time all MS medications were injectable. I began doing a lot of research on MS. It seemed that everyone had a cure for this autoimmune disease. Let me let you in on a well-known “secret”: there is no cure for Multiple Sclerosis. However, I found many scammers out there. Surprise, surprise, right? Usually, they want you to buy their product. Here is a funny story: There was an owner of a skydiving company who told me that skydiving helps MS. Yeah, sure! I did the research just to check. However, other than him at that moment, no one had ever made that claim.

The internet and I had a close relationship for a long time after that. I learned everything that I could about MS. In my quest for this multiple sclerosis knowledge, I quickly learned a lot. I learned about the shysters and charlatans that are out there. I learned about the correct and incorrect information and the differences.

I was now unemployed. Unemployment required me to live off of my savings. Once I moved out of my mom’s house after high school, I never again asked anyone for money. So at this point, I had to learn “creative money management.” My mortgage was always paid on time as that was where I lived. I knew that if they cut my electric or gas, I still had a place to sleep. My utilities would be paid late sometimes, but never was I threatened with a shut-off notice. Primarily I lived like the downtrodden. I wore clothing that was old and made me look like the homeless. However, I had a few nice-ish articles of clothing that I could wear to my doctor appointments. I kept my house at an uncomfortable temperature no matter the season. I am an Eagle Scout and a US Marine, so I am not afraid of camping in bad weather. I had 40 watt light bulbs in a few places around the house. Most of the time, I just walked around my house in near darkness. I did everything that I could to keep from spending money needlessly.

I ate very little food. At this point, my weight had fallen below 100 pounds. The doctors would always ask me if I was eating. I never lied and would always say “three meals a day.” No doctor ever asked me how much food was in each meal. For breakfast, I would have two ounces of cereal with powdered milk poured on top. I may have a can of corn with some Italian dressing for lunch. Then for my evening meal, I’d possibly have 8 ounces of mac-n-cheese. If I got hungry after dinner, I would have a couple of multigrain saltines. I soon learned that the stomach only growls for a day or two. Food is a survival thing, not really about taste, though that may change someday. I always weigh my food even to this day.

I found that my diagnosing doctor had terrible “bedside manners.” It was Thanksgiving week. During my appointment, the doctor’s cell phone rang. He then picked the phone up, and he held up one finger telling me to hold on. At this point, he stepped out of the room for five minutes. When he returned, he explained that he had to set up some holiday dinner plans. After that appointment I left his practice, never to return. I “doctor-hopped” for a while trying to find a good doctor. I have met plenty of people with MS. The one thing that many of them say is that they were unhappy with their doctors. I am bewildered because I could not understand them. I did not comprehend why they did not leave the doctors that they did not like. I suppose I am just pickier than most. However, if I am going to pay a doctor, he or she must have excellent bedside manners. Besides, there is a relationship between you and your doctor. It is a discussion between the two of you. Give me options, and the pros and cons of each. At this point let me decide. It is your medical degree, but it is my body.

After I left my diagnosing doctor, my search continued to find a new neurologist. Finding a doctor is like finding a friend. There are a lot of great people out there, but not all of them are “friend worthy.” Of course, it is essential to make sure that they take your insurance. It is also good if they are close enough to your house. Accessibility is often an overlooked requirement. I saw one doctor who had one step and a makeshift ramp that was too small. You needed to have someone go to the lobby to get this ramp for you. When you place this ramp on the ground, you had about twelve inches to turn. If you did not make this sharp turn, you would go off of the step. Apparently, safety was never a consideration.

This two year period was full of doctor appointments, MRI’s and weird MS symptoms. It took me a while to find a doctor that I was happy using. This two-year time frame was also extremely chaotic. Between finding an acceptable doctor and learning how my MS would affect me. Things just did not make sense. It was like trying to get directions from a person who does not speak English. Sure you will get there, but you will make some wrong turns along the way. Of course, all of this caused me stress. By the way, stresses and MS are mortal enemies. These new stresses cause more MS symptoms which cause more stress. It was and is a vicious cycle.

I was “learning” my new MS body. I had these strange symptoms, and I did not know how to deal with them. I was extremely temperature sensitive. I had weird symptoms like extremely itchy hands. That one sounds silly, but it was much worse than you are thinking. Those silly itchy hands sent me to the ER. My walking had become extremely unstable. However, I was too stubborn to get a walking aid. I was always able to simply push myself when I “hit a wall” pre-MS. MS was new to me and now “pushing myself” had devastating outcomes.

I avoided everything because I did not want to be a burden to anyone. Things were starting to go downhill. My attitude was getting worse. I was very grumpy, and I had a very short temper. A depression had begun to settle in. I rarely saw my dad. My sister, who I saw even less often, said that she did not like the person that I had become. She avoided me like the plague. I saw my mom twice a month when she had me over for dinner. However, like a gremlin that someone spilled water on, the worst was yet to come.

This is my real life MS story. The good, the bad and the ugly. Let me start by saying this. People who have MS have a “trigger” that activates and exacerbates the MS that lies dormant within them. “MSers” have had some significant “stress” in their lives, causing the MS to flare. MS can lie dormant until either physical or mental stress “provokes” the MS. There are people out there who have MS and don’t even realize it. This MS can lurk until they are much older. A divorce, death of a loved one or even a car accident, just to name a few, can activate MS. I have found that everyone with MS has a story. Most MSers can tell you the story of their misdiagnosis. They can also tell you about their MS “spark.” Sometimes they will even talk about the first symptom that they had years before their diagnosis.

After my divorce in 2000, I went “off the rails.” This time in my life that was full of dejection put me in a major “tailspin.” I began drinking and clubbing with a buddy who was also newly divorced. Up to this point in my life, I had consumed very little alcohol, so the effects were magnified. As an introverted person, the outcome was merely drinking as I did not dance and I was too shy to date. I was drinking and clubbing nearly every weekend while working all week. This destructive lifestyle lasted almost a year.

My divorce left me with plenty of extra bills as well. These financial requirements meant that I needed to work two jobs to get back on “financially stable ground.” I worked five days a week as an engineering draftsman. I also worked many evening and weekend hours at a local Walmart. Attempting to climb out of this erroneous alcoholic lifestyle, I began to pull myself together.

I was heavier at the time of my divorce. The fantastic food of my marriage really “packed on the pounds.” During my seven-year marriage, I had “nurtured” a 40-inch waist. I began to lift weights. My friend had always lifted weights, so I decided to join him. Steadfast in my determination, this new physical training went well. I started out at a hefty 200 pounds with a waist size of 40 inches. I quickly began losing weight with my dedication to this new exercise regimen. I dropped weight very quickly, too quick some have said. I lost so much weight that I thought I might fall through the sewer grate. After all of that exercise, I became a svelte 125lbs guy with a 29inch waist. However, I QUICKLY learned that to find a pair of 29inch pants you must visit the boy’s department. I also learned that pants that small have pockets that are WAY TOO SMALL to be useful.

One day I woke up, and something felt “wrong.” I went to work that day and as I tried to talk my speech was a “garbled mess.” When I tried to speak to people, it was like I a bunch of marbles in my mouth. I went through the day thinking that it must be stress. Remembering a phrase that I had learned in the Marine Corps, I began to “adapt and overcome.” I became more of a methodical person. I spoke slowly and would repeat myself very carefully without being asked. I would always “THINK” the right words. However, only when speaking out loud would I know if things sounded correct. Many times, I would think to myself that this would stop and go back to “normal,” very soon. No matter how frustrated I got, my co-workers were patient and understanding.

After nearly a week had gone by, my disheartening verbal issues were still present. I decided that it was time to see a doctor. All of my life I rarely saw doctors. I was sure that my appointment must have told my doctor that this was an important issue. The moment that I finished explaining my problem to the doctor, he said without hesitation: “You have mini migraines.” He then gave me some medication. Over the next few days, the medication did not change anything. I went back to see my primary care physician. Nearly a month had passed. My primary care doctor said, “I recommend that you see a neurologist.”

At this point, the speech issues had disappeared entirely. I started to debate whether I should continue with this medical testing. On the one hand, it was inconvenient and time-consuming. I also had to miss the work that I truly enjoyed. On the other hand, I had insurance, and I rarely used it. Not to mention, it would be one thing if it were just my family doctor. However, my PCP was now sending me to a neurologist. Something told me that this was important.

Over the next month, I had several strange medical tests. For the first test, I had to look at a TV screen that showed a black and white checkerboard. In the center of this checkerboard, there was a black dot. I was told to keep my eyes focused on this spot. On this checkerboard, the squares would rapidly alternate between black and white. The attendant continually reminded me to “keep your eyes on the dot.” I don’t know how well most people would do with this task. However, my eyes are attracted to movement. “Keep your eyes on the dot!” he said, repeatedly. If I had a nickel for every time that he said those words, I’d have like a dollar.

The next test was a test of my brain. The nurse had a “swim cap” looking thing which was prodigiously punctured with metal “prongs.” These metal “studs” were connected by wires to a machine for reading brain waves. The nurse took a gel and put it on the underside of each of these metal nodules. At this point, she took the swim cap and placed it on my head. She then began carefully wiggling and digging each one of those metal nubs into my skull. She explained that she had to make sure that there was no hair to block the connection between these metal prongs and my “brain bones.” Keep in mind that I had an extremely short Marine Corps haircut. This nurse finally had me lie on a padded exam table in this dark room. She then made me aware that, it was okay if I fall asleep during this test. I don’t know what they were testing, but I had dozed off several times. It was a dull test for me.

The last test that they performed was called a “lumbar puncture,” known initially as a “spinal tap.” I waited in a cold hospital room. I sat on a medical bed while wearing a hospital gown. A nurse hooked me up to a machine that continually watched my heart rate and other vital information. Finally, after thirty minutes the doctor came in. He began explaining the procedure for the lumbar puncture. I interrupted him politely and said: “With all due respect doc, I don’t want to know how ‘the sausage is made,’ let’s just do this.” It had to do with a needle and puncturing my spine with it. I did not want to know. He had me lay on my side with my spine facing him. I had to bend my knees toward my chest and hold that position. Positioning myself like this opened up my spine for him to slide a needle precisely between the bones, I think. As I was in that spot, well I’m not 100% sure what he did. I did not want to see, but a needle was involved. However, the doctor did an excellent job with the lumbar puncture. This compared to the horror stories that I have heard from other MSers. In comparison to these other stories, I had less pain and discomfort.

The doctor had scheduled these tests over several weeks. My primary care physician called me into his office, on a brisk October day of 2001. I sat on the exam table, wondering what he would say. When the doctor came in, he pulled up and sat on a wheeled metal stool. In a calm and clear voice, he told me “you have Multiple Sclerosis.” My next question to him was simple: “OK doc, what’s next?”

2088-15-1
This Sputnik tells me AGAIN that we are having a high “solar toxicity” day. I have noticed that we have had more of these toxic solar days, than in years past. My sun shields have been getting more of a workout than Richard Simons in the 1980’s. We have had to stay indoors so much recently, that I think that we are all going a little berserk. I ordered my groceries yesterday, and they were delivered to me an hour ago. The delivery people always look funny when they deliver groceries on high solar toxicity days. I always remember the movie “Back to the Future,” the spaceman scene. I mentioned the movie, to the delivery guy. Sadly, he was too young and looked at me like I was weird. I think that some of the films that I grew up with, like that one, should be mandatory viewing.

I heard this questionnaire yesterday. The first question went like this: what is your favorite thing in your bedroom? My answer would have to be “my heart.” The second question was: what is your least favorite thing in your bedroom? My answer to that one is also “my heart.” My heart causes me extreme sadness and sometimes joy. It causes me great consternation and other times calm. However, many days I want to merely say: Dear heart, please stop getting involved in everything. Your job is to pump blood, that’s it.

However, I wear my heart on my sleeve. I know that someone out there will appreciate that. Sadly, I also realize that I have to win the lotto of love. The number of women that will understand me is shrinking, because of my “irregularities.” I am in a wheelchair, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I have a beard. Although, that last one has changed about a million times over the previous 113 years. Other than a scratch off once, I do not play the lottery. Hopefully, one day I will win this lotto of love.

When they build houses now, they put in a “sunroom.” I found this odd, as it is not a sunroom like my younger days. The “sunroom” of today has the same concept, as the old “sunlamp.” The “sunlamp” was a treatment for “seasonal affective disorder” (aka S.A.D.). The idea of “Heliotherapy” was to sit with this lamp facing you. The rationale was that, if you don’t get enough sunlight, you could get depressed. This lamp had light bulbs that were specific for the treatment of sunlight deficiency, giving off the needed UV light waves. When using the old “sunlamp,” you had to sit directly in front of the lamp, not doing anything else. This practice was extremely time-consuming and wasteful time management.

On the other hand, today’s sunroom is an entire room, filled with these beneficial glowing “orbs.” Now, more people can use this sunroom at the same time. If you are alone, you can do other things, like paperwork for school or the office. As an entire room, it is more successful at healing, than a simple lamp. All of these high solar toxicity days can cause depression. Now with these sunrooms, deep sadness caused by lack of sun, is nearly eliminated. My doctor told me to always watch out for “depression,” in everyone that I know. If people do not take the time for the sunroom treatments, depression can occur.

The Fast food industry’s popularity has taken a monstrous nosedive. This decline is because families have become “wallet conscious.” These “wallet watcher” families have been cooking at home. When they began to cook for the entire family at once, they saw how it is better in every way. For many years, families got away from the “communal table.” Now, fast food attendance has been in a total decline, as families return to the family meal. Fast food companies have tried various enticements to encourage customers to return. They have had no success with this. “Fast-casual” eateries, like Panera Bread, have significantly surpassed the burger places, like the old McDonalds.

Young people have been eating less fast food, for years. So three years ago most fast food companies merged. These businesses had barely been able to keep their doors open, as customers disappeared. Two weeks ago Wendy’s decided that it was time to “bite the bullet,” and join the downtrodden. So they joined this new fast-food conglomerate. This fast food merger made the company “Quik Bites.”

Fast food advertisements used to focus on a specific type of food, like tacos, burgers or subs. They now promulgate by boasting of the plethora of choices that you have with Quik Bites. They “pretend” that this was always the plan. However, most of us know the truth.

Then last night, Migro purchased this “Quik Bites.” I was able to talk with some of the head personnel at Migro. These Migro officials explained that they are going to be shrinking the fast food industry. Migro hopes to erase the existence of fast food, within the next five years.

A few years ago, most of the corporate “sit down” restaurants were also bought by Migro. They have been downsizing these corporate businesses, in hopes of eliminating them as well. This elimination has allowed the small family owned businesses, to boost the quality of everything. They are no longer in a challenging competition with corporations. Several Migro employees did not have a good family life as they grew up. They did not get to sit down and break bread with their families, as many of their friends often did. For this reason, they want to bring back the family meals that, they longed to have.

I am glad that family is what drives Migro. The puissant dollar was the focus for most corporations and individuals when I was younger. As I spoke with some of the heads at Migro, they explained that everything that Migro does revolves around family ideals. The family unit is what the focus should be. Most of my life, the family was not the cynosure of everyone, like it should have been. Everyone fended for themselves. As I was growing up, it was a “fast-paced, run, run” life. Mom rarely saw dad, and the kids rarely saw either. This life was different from the “Leave it to Beaver” days, of the 1950’s. THANKFULLY, I think that we are returning to that lifestyle.

2088-8-1
I woke up before the buzz of the alarm clock. I laid there listening to the metronome of the second hand of my wall o’clock. As I got up, I cracked open the windows and visors. From the moment that my eyes greeted the morning light, there has been nothing but quiescence. There has not even been a “squelch” from my Sputnik. The noiselessness is torturous. I don’t like the deafening silence of my house. For this reason, I typically have the house system playing either music or an audiobook from my younger days. Sometimes I even play talk radio, anything to fight the isolationism of quietness. Sadly, this has made me a saturnine person today. Maybe this Sputnik is doing something to my brain…I don’t know. This seems to be one of those “forlorn” days. It looks like today I will have to go to Migro, to get this Sputnik fixed. I have put this off for months now, and my procrastination has gotten me nowhere.

I called Migro this morning, to make an appointment, because of my Sputnik issues. The woman told me that I did not need to make an appointment, as the people in the Sputnik trial would be seen right away. When I showed up, I realized that it had been nearly five years since I was here last. This meant that there had been plenty of time for a change.

Previously, everything looked like the “stereotypical” doctor’s office. The waiting room was covered in low pile carpeting. The chairs were metal framed padded seats that accented the color of the carpet. Beyond the waiting room door, the floors were austere linoleum tile. Cinder block walls lined the corridor to the exam room. Basically, everything looked very clean, like all medical facilities should look. The receptionist was dressed in business casual attire. Yet, all of the nurses were wearing scrubs, which were a variety of colors. Lastly, when I saw the doctor, he was wearing khaki pants, a green button-up dress shirt with a white lab coat. This was emblematic of all medical facilities and staff members.

However this time, everything was very different. Everything had a “sterile” look and feel to it. White, light grey and even some Chrome were basically the only colors that I saw. The receptionist was a nice looking woman, dressed in white pants and a white dress shirt. There was no hint of perfume, yet there was a smell of cleanness. She also had a slight whisper of make-up. The waiting room was void of any color. I felt like I was in an old black and white TV show. This waiting room had a white floor with white walls. There were chairs, which were framed in chrome metal with white padded seats. Everything was “lined up” in a precision fashion, like a platoon of Marines, standing for inspection.

I was told that approximately one-third of the patients that are seen in this medical facility, come in alone. I was one of the “loners”. I was very pleased that they had a staff member sitting next to me. This employee was dressed like a civilian. She was there to make sure that I did not feel alone, I was told. The staff member had a few minutes alone with me, and spoke about her role as a “patient advocate”. She said that all of the patient advocates are medical staff. This meant that confidentiality should not be a concern. She also made me aware that her role was to be “support”. She told me that she would support me, however, I needed. Depending on the situation, she could hold a hand or explain terms and procedures. Basically, she would do whatever I needed, like the concierge of a high-end hotel. To keep continuity, the same patient advocate would always be with me, unless I requested a change.

Twenty minutes had gone by, and I was walked to an examination room. This exam room looked like a white cube with lines on the walls. When the doctor began his examination, his medical tools were “hidden” in the walls. He took two steps to the right and pushed the wall in slightly, and then let go, the wall began to slide out. His medical equipment slid out on a shelf. Everything that he needed, including the exam table, was “in” the wall. I thought this wall storage was creative.

Using a machine for “imaging” they took pictures of my brain. They wanted these images, to view the connection between my brain and Sputnik. They took these pictures about ten minutes prior to the examination. The images were sent directly to a large table/screen, for all of us to look at. After he showed me the images, he explained that there was a slight complication. He pointed out the area of concern, on the screen. Thankfully, it did not sound like this was a dire situation. He told me that I would need to stay the night, none the less. They said that they would buy me the clothing and anything else, that I needed. Later, they took me to my room.

The room that I was to stay in, seemed to have been designed by the same person who did the examination room. It too was a cube that had white walls and a white floor. There were lines around the room, just like the exam room. My patient advocate walked me through the room and showed me various features. Where the first set of lines were, she pushed in slightly, and then let go. A full-size bed, ready to be slept in slid out of the wall. Another push of the wall, in a different location, and a “closet rack”, slid out. In another location, she pushed the wall in, and it slid open sideways. This was a full sized bathroom, with a shower, toilet and a sink. It was a very convenient “box in a box”.

When I am “old and gray” and I die, someone might find this journal. Those futuristic people may be interested to hear how Migro used to look. They might like to hear about the Migro medical facilities, and how much they have changed. My experience at Migro Medical was pretty good. I appreciated the patient advocate that they assigned to me. No one should have to be alone, ESPECIALLY IN A MEDICAL SITUATION. None of the study participants currently, has had any issues with Sputnik affecting their brain. The doctor said that it could have been, just one of those melancholy days. They were able to get my Sputnik active again. Now, we will have to see what tomorrow will bring.

2088-2-1
This is my first journal entry of 2088. Ten years ago there was a business merger between Google and Microsoft. This merger made the colossal powerhouse Migro. I still think the name sounds like plant food. When these two companies merged, they were able to catapult human life expectancy, beyond imagination. The current life expectancy of a human is 150 years. I am now 113 years old. Although it has been said that 113 is the new 40, I defiantly do not feel 40. Migro seems to be buying companies, big and small, left and right. I think they want to own everything on the planet.

Five years ago, I signed up for the human trial for “Sputnik”. This is a device implanted in and powered by the brain. The Sputnik device is a “turbocharged” version of the old “voice assistant” released in 2016. It also has many similarities with Google Glass from 2012. When they implanted the Sputnik into my head, they synced it with my “house system”. Migro wants there to be “synergy” among everything that you own. Important, and sometimes dire, information comes to the Sputnik. For this reason, they want everything to stop so that you are sure to hear this, quite possibly, detrimental information.

Like yesterday, when they warned us that it was going to be a high “solar toxicity” day. This meant that we needed to keep our windows, sun shields and visors closed. This information also made us aware that, we needed to wear our solar protection suits when venturing outside. This is why on days like yesterday I avoid going outside like a cat avoids bathwater.

I woke up this morning, hearing the sounds of oldies playing all over my house. After I got dressed, a really good song began to play. I decided to “dance” around, as I was cleaning. After 10 minutes or so, the music stopped because the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, my neighbor Tom, with a smile on his face, asked: “is everything OK Scott?” I said “oh, the sweat? Yeah, I was just cleaning”. “Well,” he said, roaring with laughter “through the window it looked like you were practicing for a musical.” We both laughed and talked for a few minutes. This reminds me to shut the windows as well as the sun shields when I dance.

I was told the other day, that Migro is very close to being able to erase specific memories. I personally would love to sign up for that procedure. I continually have memories and thoughts that haunt me, like a bad dream. Many times I walk around, my house like I have Tourette’s. I yell out “stop it!” or “what’s done, is done!” all to try to stop the memories and thoughts. All of these memories of ignorant comments and/or actions that, I have made or thought about, drive me crazy. I know that you have to be able to laugh at yourself, but I would not want my neighbors to see that. Someone seeing me dancing around as I clean is one thing. Yet, someone seeing me “yell” at myself is another thing altogether. Luckily, there are no “voices” in my head, other than Sputnik. Of course, I would only do this procedure if only “specific” memories were erased.

Migro has created many medical devices to help people. They are currently focusing on the disabled. I was intrigued to hear about, several devices that they have created to help people in wheelchairs, walk again. They started 5 years ago, with large “machines”. Seeing people climb into them, reminded me of climbing into an X-Wing fighter. These early machines were very expensive. They were also large, and would not easily fit into the average home. However, as with everything, it starts off large and expensive. Yet, as these innovations become commonly used, the price drops like the stock price of Apple after the merger.

I am curious about these “machines” that, aid in walking. I often wonder if having the ability to walk could help my romantic life. Should I even be thinking like this? I am always wondering if my deprivation of walking abilities has any effect on my romantic life or lack thereof. Could this new technology have a positive effect on my life, romantic or otherwise? Not to mention, since I am only 113, what technologies are still on the horizon?

The more that I think about it, I would say that my lack of walking abilities, probably has little effect on my romantic life. Meaning that these “mechanized legs” would also have little effect on my social life. This is likely the case, as I remember when TV was a big thing, I saw a TV show called “Push Girls”. We are talking about over 70 years ago. Sputnik obviously DOES boost the memory. Push Girls was a reality TV show about four women, living in LA, in wheelchairs. It showed all aspects of their daily lives including their romantic lives.

It reminded me that legs, whether working correctly or not, have little effect on romance. I still think that it is simply my “shyness” and my lack of “confidence” that has the larger effect on my romance. I will continue to contemplate this complicated conundrum. I need to come up with a solution, as I don’t want to be alone forever.

I was apparently born at the correct time. As Robert F Kennedy said in a speech in 1966, “we are living in interesting times”. If I am going to have MS and be in a wheelchair, this is the right time. They have these wearable “contraptions” that may help wheelchair users, walk again. This means that I could be out of my wheelchair more often, than in my wheelchair…maybe?

I am excited to see what comes of these wearable apparatuses. Will they help only in specific situations? Will the battery packs last, like the autonomous electric cars of today? There are MANY questions that can only be answered by “time”. I feel better than yesterday but not as good as tomorrow. I am keeping a positive outlook on life “tomorrow WILL be better…I hope

Major twist and tweak…
Since only, seven people read this blog entry previously, and we are in Christmas time, I decided to majorly tweak, and repost an “oldie”. If you read it the first time, you can see everything that is new. If you have not read it, enjoy as it is all new to you.

“And now our feature presentation”

Turning my knight into day…(redo)
Trying to find the best new light bulbs for my house, I have done a lot of research on all of the light bulbs currently on the market. We have been using incandescent light bulbs since their inception in 1879. They have not changed much, over the years. The standard incandescent light bulb uses 70% of the energy that it consumes, as heat. As inefficient as the incandescent light bulb is, it took over 100 years until the light bulb was reinvented. Yes, a new lightbulb was badly needed!

The compact fluorescent lightbulb (aka CFL) was invented in 1976. These bulbs come in many shapes and sizes, and even several different colors. The CFL bulb has a higher up-front cost but can save over five times its purchase price in electricity cost over the life of the bulb. This energy saving bulb, last eight to fifteen times as long as the standard incandescent light bulb. These bulbs lost popularity, partly because they were filled with toxic mercury. This mercury complicates their disposal. Many countries have even banned the disposal of CFL bulbs with regular trash. Furthermore, they have established a special collection system for CFL’s and other hazardous waste. Also, LED bulbs took the position as a more energy efficient light bulb.

The LED, light emitting diode, light bulb is the more energy efficient bulb. The LED bulb tends to “sip” energy, and not “gulp” it like the incandescent bulb. It is hard to pin down an exact year, that the LED bulb was invented, for the residential light bulb. The date it was invented for home use, is so nebulous because it had so many other lab uses in its early days. The first diode was also extremely expensive. For this reason, it took a while before someone decided to simply group theses diodes together, for a light bulb for the home. However, in 1962 the first visible-spectrum LED, in the form of red diodes, was invented.

Many companies are currently going one step farther and making their LED bulbs “connected”. This means that the bulb is able to be controlled by your smartphone. Many of these new light bulbs look extremely different. And some people don’t like that these bulbs look so drastically altered. I personally spoke with a woman and her husband, when I was lightbulb shopping. She did not like the bulb I chose because it looked so different. (Let me pose this query to my readers. When was the last time that you looked at one of your lightbulbs, EXCLUDING INSTALLATION? Yeah, me either.) Some of these new bulbs look flat like they were sat on by a sumo wrestler. Yet, others look like they are wearing a medieval suit of armor. It is understandable, and even extremely beneficial, that these companies are making their smart light bulbs dimmable, as well. This dimmable aptitude means that not only can you simply turn a light on, from your phone, but you can also dim it as needed.

However, some of these bulbs are being made to do things that are feckless, in my opinion. The part that seems senseless to me, is that they also change colors…why??? This skill seems like an eccentricity that is simply pointless. Although, I suppose if you want to show off for your friends, it would be cool for a few minutes. But, after a few weeks, color changeability will become, as useless as a submarine with a screen door.

Sadly, the majority of these light bulbs are downright expensive! I have seen several of them go for over $50, PER BULB! I would definitely never pay that kind of money, for a “one trick pony”. I even saw a kit of three bulbs with some sort of “mini-hub” to control them, which costs over $200! The light bulbs I chose, for my house, are the Cree connected bulbs. They are one of the least expensive “connected” LED bulbs on the market, today. What I really like about them, is that they have a great customer rating, and the manufacturer stands behind their product, with excellent customer service. I also like the bulbs, because they are simple, and have no useless flashy “bells and whistles”. I mean if you want to pay over $50 for a bulb that allows you to change the colors, more power to you. However, I bet like most people who buy them, you will only change the colors a few times to “show off”.

Connecting light bulbs to a Smart Hub, to control them from your phone, is even more convenient. Even greater yet, is if you get a Voice assistant like “Google home” or “Amazon Echo”. For someone like me, it is especially advantageous. I go through a significant number of steps to do any of the tasks that are significantly simplified by various smart technologies.

Some have said that this technology is useless. I (sort of) get their point, however, I say it is extremely helpful for someone in my perfectly problematic predicament. When I am going to bed, after putting my PJ’s on, I would normally have to get back into my wheelchair and roll back to the light-switch and turn it off. At this point, in the dark, roll back and get into my bed. Now, I can simply use my phone and turn off the light, from my bed. When I am in bed, if the temperature feels a little off, I can adjust the thermostat from my Google Home. When I am sitting on the couch, and someone rings the doorbell, I can check who it is, from my smartphone. I can even see and speak with them. While sitting on the couch, and using my phone, I can also unlock the door, and let them in.

I knew someone when I was a kid, who was in a physically challenging situation. Although they too lived alone, they needed someone do a lot for them, including dealing with their money issues. I am a private person. I pay my own bills, thanks to internet banking. I can buy things that I need or want, thanks to internet shopping. Because of all of this technology like the internet and connected devices, it is possible for me to live an extremely independent life.

I used to think that smart technology was silly and a luxury only for the people who could afford it. I’m guessing some of you may have felt the same way. However, in many ways, we would be wrong. The more that I welcome these terrifically timely technologies into my home; I learn more about the benefits that they have. I also learn about new technologies that could also make my life easier and more comfortable.

2087-18-12
The Brady Bunch was a good TV show, which I enjoyed as a kid. This is my journal entry for today. I am eager to see what is on the horizon for 2088. If I have said it once, I have said it 1000 times: time is FLYING by. Honestly, I am never ready for the next year. Most days I feel like life is a soup and I’m a fork.
Only one time did I ever wake up to “rock” music. That day was like the first time waking up at boot camp for the Marine Corps. It scared me so badly, that my hair ran to hide, and never returned. In boot camp, to wake you up from your deep slumber, they would repeatedly bang on an old style metal trash can while yelling. It was like getting a shot of the caffeine from, 12 expresso coffees, in a fraction of a second. Waking up to rock music was quite the same way, especially in the home sound system of today. Of course, it did not help that the sound system was turned up from the party, the night before. Sure, it was a party of one (me), but I love playing my music loudly.
I am always surprised at the lack of socio-economic status of this time. It seems like in my thirties and forties people were always trying to be better than everyone else. It’s like they were thinking “I’m a doctor, I’m better than you”. And the nurse would say “but I’m better than the janitor”. I remember, in my 40’s, a woman asked me what I did, for a living. She apparently did not “approve” of my answer, so she simply cast me aside. She did not want to get to know the real me, the person who I am. I feel that to truly know a person, you have to have a decent conversation with them. A quick, one question and its reply, cannot tell you much about that person. Maybe, back then it was a status thing, who knows. Now it seems that an attitude like that does not exist. Now, you’re not an engineer you’re Bob. You’re not a janitor you’re Steve. You’re not a doctor you’re Janet. Life now is more of a “utopian” way of life.
I spoke with the inventor of the Sputnik yesterday. I was surprised to hear that he did not know anything about the actual Sputnik. His grandfather worked for NASA and had talked about Sputnik many times. But apparently, he did not listen to what his grandfather said about Sputnik. He did not know that Sputnik was the first artificial satellite, which was launched into space in 1957. He simply liked the word “Sputnik”, and a name was…reborn.
Although this Sputnik device, is annoying at times it also has its benefits. When they implant one into your head, they sync it to not only your brain but your house system, as well. This helps in several different ways. I personally like that I can be listening to music on the street, and as soon as I move into the house, it switches automatically to the home audio system. Also, you can say what you need out loud and the home assistant hears you and does whatever you ask of it. Ask it to: make a phone call, add something to your grocery list or to simply make dinner.
When you get a sputnik implanted, it actually boosts your memory, as well. Since I am in the human trials of the Sputnik they did not know all of the pros and cons. They did not mention how much the memory would be boosted. How else could I explain all of these detailed memories at 113 years old?! My dad forgot a lot in his mid-sixties. At 113, that is not the case, for me. After this trial is over, and they start correcting all of the issues, the Sputnik will sell like hotcakes!
Actually, hotcakes and bacon sound like a good breakfast, for today. Migro has done a few machines that are junk, but they do a lot of good machines as well. One example is the machine that makes food at your request. Migro made a machine that can make any food that you want. This machine reminds me of the “futuristic” movies of my past. It works slower than it did in old movies, but there is no effort needed. However, you do need to buy the groceries and have them in the “chill box”. For example, breakfast today will take 3 to 5 minutes. The good thing is that, again, I don’t have to do any of the work. Plus, it tastes much better than all of the TV dinners that I ate in the 2000’s.
Basically, I still live like a “bachelor”. Although I must admit that a bachelor lives quite differently today than over 6 decades ago. Now we don’t have TV dinners. As long as I buy the food and put it in the “chill box”, the house can cook it. The delivery of groceries is also a huge help. Lastly, we have the house assistant, to help us live better lives.
I will not be writing in this journal again until next year, 2088. WOW again, how time flies! It seems like just yesterday it was 2080. I say this every year, but I hope next year is my year of romance. Otherwise, 2088, and my 114th birthday will be another boring and lonely year.

Captain’s Log 2087-11-12
Okay, even at 113 years old, I am still not funny. However, the original Star Trek was a great show, even though I only saw it in reruns. This is my journal entry for today. I have been writing in this journal for over 70 years now. The year is 2087 and I have been single for 87 years…I am not sure, but I think I am cursed or something.
This morning, as the sun Shields on my windows open slightly while the visors stay closed, I listen to the information coming across my Sputnik. They tell us that we are going to have a high “solar toxicity” day. This is our warning to wear our solar protection suit when going outside. I know that the suit is for our protection, but it is simply “AWKWARD AND UNCOMFORTABLE”, so I will avoid going outside today. The Sputnik implantation device, in my head, seems to be, malfunctioning sporadically. It is only 5 years old and yet it seems to be on the fritz already. I don’t want to go back for another surgery, to fix it just yet, no matter how unobtrusive they say that surgery is now. The Sputnik is a device that is implanted into the brain. It is a “turbocharged” version of the old “voice assistant” that was introduced 71 years ago, in 2016. The voice assistant started out as a simple “smart speaker”, and has grown into a device implanted in, and powered by the brain. Who knew that things could be powered by the brain?
The life expectancy of a human in 2017, when I started this journal was 79 years old. Now, in 2087, it has jumped to more than 150 years old. I LOVE my mom, but now I get to hear her complain about me being single, for even longer. After the Google and Microsoft merger, together they were able to skyrocket human life expectancy. In this merger, the two of them became the powerhouse “Migro” (the name sounds like something you put on your flowers to help them grow). Migro, as the largest and wealthiest company in the world, has purchased many companies like Facebook and Amazon. I heard on my Sputnik, that there was going to be a merger of Facebook, Apple, and Amazon. However, Migro was too powerful and Apple was left out in the cold, barely hanging on. Apple might have to close their doors for good.
At this point, I am known as a man of few words. I do this journal so that I have someone to “talk to”. Of course, I write in this journal, using old-school methods. I actually use a computer, keyboard, and type with my hands. Others constantly make fun of me for this. “Typing with a keyboard is so antiquated,” they say. I say “at least I am not using a typewriter”. That always stops the conversation in its tracks. I went out to dinner with my mom and some of her friends the other day. One of her friends said to me “my husband bet me, that I could not get you to say even three words tonight”. She then looked at me and said: “what do you say to that?” I simply replied “you lose”, and said nothing the rest of the evening.
We have all of this technology, which seems to help us. And believe you me, there is a lot of tech and it helps significantly. Yet, this journal shows me that, I am still an extremely boring person to talk to. As I said, I have been writing in this journal for 70 years and life has not changed much. Ok, let me clarify, “MY” life has not changed. Actually, my “ROMANTIC” life has not changed. Every year I thought “this or that” might change things, but sadly they did not. Having a significant other ALWAYS makes life better. After I moved into the house that I built in 2017-2018, I should have taken the recommendation to use a matchmaking service. We now know, if there is one thing that I am really good at, in my 113 years of life, it has been “procrastinating”. Yet, if there are TWO things that I am good at, then “making excuses” is the other.
In all of this technology that we have, we still do not have a time machine. No time machine means that I cannot go back and change anything. I would not go back to win the lottery nor would I invest in Google, although I’m sure many would do both. Instead, I would go back and talk to that woman that I used to work with, even though she said libary instead of library (kind of annoying). I would go back and ask that woman, that I met at the grocery store over 6 decades ago, out to dinner. The truth is that money means nothing without a significant other, and that is why I give so much away. I also would not have implanted this, very annoying, sputnik device. Although Microsoft merged with Google, apparently Microsoft still makes the computers and sputnik devices, and they are not very good. This “thing” in my head did not even go a full five years, without problems. Hopefully, tomorrow is a better day. Kirk out…nope, I’m still not funny.

Those of you, who know me, know that I am an honest person. Honest to a fault, some might say. So when I tell you this story, you know that I am being “honest”. WAIT! I don’t know where those quotation marks came from, sorry. Just know that I am telling you the “truth”. There they are again, those annoying quotation marks! Anyway, here are the “facts”…Ugh, of the story.
Over the summer I was on vacation. I cannot tell you the location, but it was sunny and hot, so you know that I LOVED it. Later you will see why I can’t say where I was. Anyway, I was sitting at a table, next to the pool of this gorgeous hotel. I saw a guy who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses. He was drinking an iced tea, reading while relaxing poolside. He had a white beard that was pretty long, which was surprising for a hot vacation spot, like this. He actually looked a lot like Santa Claus. So much so, that I kind of laughed at the thought. I wanted to talk to him, but I am a shy and quiet guy and did not want to “bother” this gentleman. However, several of my friends are constantly urging me, to step outside of my comfort zone and simply talk with people. So I decided to interrupt his reading. I asked him if he minded if I sat next to him and talked with him for a bit. He said “sure Scott”, and winked, “have a seat”. I asked, “How do you know my name?” He simply smiled and said, “I have been to your house many times, you are one of the good ones on my list.” I thought about that for a minute and then shrugged it off. Surely he would explain that a bit later. I said, “Do you realize that you look like…er…uh…Santa Claus?” He roared with laughter and said, “I’ve heard that, a time or two.” (Let me explain to my readers, his laugh was very…“Jolly”) We sat there for an hour or so, snacking on delicious finger sandwiches, drinking iced tea and talking about everything under the sun. The more that we talked, the more that I realized, this WAS Santa Clause! How could this be? I mean…I guess Santa needs a vacation too. He knew that I had figured it out. Just then a young kid came around the corner and said “hey…” he stopped when he saw me and then looked back and said, “hey, Dad I scheduled you and Mom for a massage at 2 P.M.” As the kid was talking, I looked him over a bit. I knew that this MUST have been one of Santa’s elves. I could not see his ears because they were covered up by his hat. It is hard to explain, but I was pretty sure…no, I was POSITIVE, he was one of Santa’s elves.
“Since I know who you are, and you know that I know who you are; can I ask you a few questions that I’ve always wanted to know?” I asked. He laughed, then took another drink of his iced tea, and said, “Sure, no one will believe all of this anyway”. “I’d like to ask you about your “delivery” job.” I winked, trying to help keep his “secret identity”? “You deliver all over the world, so how many languages do you speak?” I asked. Again he laughed and said “I actually speak fewer than you might think,” he said. “Remember, while I am in these other countries, it is at night while everyone is asleep”. Then he winked and said, “and don’t forget, I now have Google Translate.” Laughing he said, “Even an old man like me, knows about Google”. I laughed out loud at that.
“Well, I have also wondered, with all of the advancements in technology, why don’t you just order and deliver through Amazon,” I asked. He sat back and laughed (he laughed so often that, it made me laugh a lot too). “First, we still make more toys, by hand, than you might think,” he said. “Plus, there are 7.5 billion people on earth, now subtract out those on my naughty list. Do you think that Amazon and shipping companies could handle that?” I laughed at that and said, “good point, I didn’t think of that”. “So then how do you do it?” I asked. “Scott, do you remember when you went to Philmont Scout Ranch?” He asked. (I guess he IS always watching) I said, “Of course I do. I will never forget those 12 days of backpacking in the southern part of the Rocky Mountains.” “And how did you get your food?” he asked. I explained that we carried the food in our backpacks. “Yes, but not all 12 days of food at once”, he corrected. I explained that, from what I remember, they had food “drop points”. These “drop points” were at specific locations in our path, we would hike to those spots. When we got there, we would drop off trash, and then pick up more food. “Exactly, and that is similar to what we do. We have “military style” helicopters that drop new toys in my sleigh along the way,” He said. He told how these helicopters dropped more toys directly into the sleigh, as the toys in his sleigh run low. “This is all done mid-air,” he said. “Think about this, in the past when my sleigh was full of ALL of the toys in one trip, my sleigh was heavier and the trip was slower,” He said. He then told how, NOW, the trip is simply faster. “This means that, when I stop at a house, I can eat a few more cookies.” (For the record, I thought the cookie thing, was made up by parents, I guess not.) “A few houses even leave apples or carrots for the reindeer,” He said. (I guess the reindeer need snacks too.)
We laughed and talked for a while longer, not only about Christmas but about other things too. He even complimented me on my charity that I have to help children. I talked about my very small blog. I explained that I have only had it for a short time. This blog only has a small number of readers. “Chris” (I am hiding the name that he used) “Can I write a blog entry about our meeting here today?” He thought for a long minute, as he took off his sunglasses because the sun was going down. “You showed me the stats of your blog, and no one will believe you anyway”, he continued to think. I quickly told him that, if he said yes, I would send him a copy of the blog first. This way he could give his “yes or no” before I posted it. He said, “let me think about it, I will let you know”. He gave me a way to contact him, through a few other people, who also know his secret identity.
About a month later, he got back to me. He agreed to let me blog about it, but with one simple rule. As long as I waited until December to post it, the answer is yes. However, he still wanted to approve the blog entry. I later asked Santa to keep me up-to-date on how things are going. He told me that he would let me know how his “deliveries” went this year. I asked him about the possibility of coming up north to visit his “company”, still trying to keep his secret identity. He told me that would not be a very good idea. I then asked if there was a way that on Christmas when he delivered to my house if I could see the reindeer. He roared with laughter and said “what makes you think I’m coming to your house this year?” then he winked at me. (He was a very funny guy, who loved to laugh, a lot).
I now have a very different outlook on Christmas. I also have a new respect for the work that they all do, in the far north. He later explained that they vacation in a new place every year, so it is unlikely that I would see him again. To anyone reading this blog, I am good at keeping secrets, so don’t think that I will share how I contact Santa. I have kept much bigger secrets, so if you want to be on the “good list”, simply be a good person, do good things, and you too can be on that list.

When I was a boy and I had something weighing on my mind I would enjoy camping and hiking, immensely. The woods were the ultimate counseling session. Something about being able to commune with nature makes contemplating my captivating conditions conceivable. There is truly nothing as beneficial, to my psyche, as simply walking on dirt in the great outdoors. I enjoyed nature because the woods were my healing elixir. For the city folk out there I can understand, not comprehending a love for the woods. However, smelling the intoxicating fresh air of Mother Nature can truly be a magical experience, again “for me”. It is my absolute respite, from the hustle and bustle of an uncontrollably “hyper” city life. No matter the issue, life is better with hiking boots and a tent.
In 2000 after my divorce, my life took a turn for the “not so good”. Sadly, I did not handle it well and things went a little “haywire”. Luckily, that “bumpy” road lasted just over 6 months. After that time, I began heavy weight lifting with my friend who I grew up with. In mid-2001 he began to train me, for my very first, 26.219-mile marathon. He began to fervently encourage me, reminding me that if I can do USMC boot camp, I can do anything. Amazingly, he had done 8 marathons to that point. However, MS had different plans. I was truly discouraged when MS had begun to rear its ugly head. This had put the kibosh on the idea of a marathon. Sadly, I never got to do my first marathon because of my MS, and my friend became fat and lazy. Just kidding, he has become a fireman, saving lives and doing all that “show off” type stuff lol.
What I should have done in 2000 after my divorce was something I always wanted to do. I should have walked the Appalachian Trail, or at least part of it. I should have gone back to the days where Mother Nature was my therapist, something I needed at that time. The Appalachian Trail was a big trail for my big problem.
The Appalachian Trail opened in 1923 and held the title as the longest foot trail in the United States until 1968 when the Pacific Crest Trail had opened. The Pacific Crest Trail has a total length of 2650 miles. Although the length of the Appalachian Trail is continually debated, it is approximately 2200 miles. Thousands of people every year, attempt the Appalachian Trail in its entirety, they are called “thru-hikers”. Of those thru-hikers, only about 25% actually complete the AT in total.
Many in the USA have become so lazy that they don’t seem to understand the simple concept of “hiking”. Let me give you an example of a true experience: hiker comes out of the woods and asks a man getting into his car where “a specific” store is. The guy says “it’s about a mile down the road, where is your car and I’ll give you directions” “I’m going to walk” the hiker said. The guy looked at the hiker and said “are you sure? Because I think it’s actually nearly two miles.” “That’s ok, I like to walk,” the hiker said. The guy says “okay, but if you change your mind there is a cab company around the corner.” This shows that people just do not understand that some people would prefer to simply walk places.
Consider this: for 93% of ALL trips outside of the home, no matter the distance or purpose, Americans take the car. All of this “actual” walking that Americans do equals a total of 1.4 miles per week! This, “barely” 350 yards a day, includes all walking in the home, office, grocery store and to and fro all parking lots.
As a former hiker, it is truly disheartening when an able-bodied person drags or scoots their feet, instead of simply picking up their feet to walk. Have we become so lazy and our muscles so weak, that picking up our legs to walk is too strenuous? Another annoying thing is when someone struggles to find a closer parking spot. They drive around for 10 minutes to get a parking spot that is five spaces closer, than 10 minutes before. In case you are wondering, the average parking space is 8.5ft wide making the 5 spaces, a 42 feet closer parking space. I feel that people simply take their legs for granted, afraid to walk even a little bit more (apparently 42ft more). If they could not walk, would they miss their walking abilities? I know I do.
Things are very different now that I am in a wheelchair. Getting “therapy” from Mother Nature is not likely going to happen again. There is a local park that has a paved walking path; they even have wheelchairs to borrow, at no cost. I have visited that park, but there is still something that is missing. Although the smells of nature are there, the other therapeutic effects just do not exist anymore. Not to mention, the feeling of the dirt, rocks, and leaves under my feet, as I walk, is also missing. Going to the woods now and getting only some of the benefits, just does not get the job done. It’s like going to hear a band and the drummer and bass guitarist don’t show. You can still listen, but there is no way you will get that “feeling” you got from before. So I say to everyone out there, go out and experience nature. We must do this before the only way to see a tree is in a museum, and you have to use a power wheelchair because your legs are too weak to walk.