You know how someone asks you if you lost weight, but your spouse doesn’t notice because it happens gradually? Naw, that’s not what happened. What was happening was that my hands were shaking gradually more and more. But it happened gradually, so I just thought I was clumsy. Tried threading a needle, took me about 20 minutes of cussing. Figured it was my eyes.

One day, I posted a video on YouTube. It was a kind of technical vid on using a pipe retort. I set the camera aimed at my hands, so I could manipulate the camera. I’ll add here that the camera has a anti-shake feature, so again, I didn’t notice anything through the vid. I figured I’d get some comments and questions about alcohol percentage, disinfection, blah, blah, blah. Instead, the most comments were about how bad my hands are shaking during the video. Here’s the video. You can turn off the audio, it isn’t important, but watch my hands…

If you do listen to the video, you’ll hear a catch in my voice as well. I hadn’t even noticed any of that until I started getting emails and comments.

My arms and legs were getting really tired fast, and I was having a tough time writing.

Now, I hate seeing docs. All my family doc ever says is that I’m just getting old. After years of this, I thought, duh, get a second opinion, so I saw an orthopedist. I did have a torn meniscus but after the surgery, I couldn’t hold my legs steady enough for rehab. He suggested neurologist, so I went to this very nice doc. I did actually bring the video above with me, because sometimes I worry that they’ll just say I’m a hypochondriac.

She saw the video and said it was a “resting tremor.” At this point, I’m going to assume you know how to do ‘net searches, so I’ll use technical terms to keep this novel a little shorter. She had my draw a spiral, and it looked like someone doing a spiral during an earthquake. She moved my arms, legs, had me do this and that.

Now the weird part. You ever watch those cop shows where they test to see if someone’s drunk by watching them walk heel to toe (tandem gait)? I haven’t done that under observation since I was 18, but hey, I could do it a few years ago, what’s the big deal? One step into it, I fell down. I got back up and she said that was okay, and have a seat. Well the hell with that. Must’ve been not paying any attention. Well, I did manage to make it 3 more steps. I was gasping with the effort, and it looked like I was walking a tightrope. I knew I was off-balance, and my brain was telling my legs what to do, but they just were ignoring me. I stopped trying it, stumbled sideways into the wall. Maybe it was a smart thing to have a seat at that point.

She said it was neuropathy. The loss of balance, and my difficulty walking. I’ve been walking with a cane for years because of my screwed up knee, but what I didn’t realize was that using the cane was masking the fact that I was off-balance.

So, long story short, I had my brain magnetized, 5 gallons of blood drawn ONE TINY TUBE AT A TIME, and have been repetitively subjected to electrocution.

We looked at the MRI. That eliminated the two scariest things; a tumor or lesion on the brain, and multiple sclerosis. There was an abnormality that I’ll name a little later here. Parkinson’s was ruled out clinically. So now it’s down to diabetes, idiopathic neuropathy, or “other.”

Diagram showing MRI scans of two brains. The brain on the left shows atrophy (shrinkage) of the cerebellum. The brain on the right shows a normal cerebellum.

So, end of story, mostly, is that I have ataxia (cerebellar atrophy), neuropathy, peripheral neuropathy, and cubital tunnel. We just don’t know what’s causing those yet. I’ve contacted a relative if he knows of anyone on his side of the pond with similar disorders, but I sure as hell can’t remember anyone on my side of the family having anything like this.

My arms and legs are getting weaker, and it’s damn near impossible to stand more than 5 minutes. My right hand and arm are pretty unusable, but my left side is a little better. I’ve had to make some modifications to my car, including a suicide spinner (look it up), an extension for my turn signals, a “lazy-susan” for my ass so I can swivel out, and a beast of a bar that inserts into the door handle to help me out of the car.

Home is getting interesting. I’m sitting in a hydraulic chair at the moment, that tilts forward and lifts so I can get up a little easier. I’ve replaced some of the doorknobs with door levers. Got a couple of those grippy/picker-upper things that I chase the dogs around with. I have this torture device so I can slow down the muscle loss. I have 28 canes, so that’s not an issue, but I may be looking at a walker soon. And I have pouches on my belt, because it hurts my hands to much to reach them into my front pockets. Writing has become ridiculous, while my hand refuses to do what I’m telling it to do. I can type, but it does start to seriously hurt after a while.

I was depressed for about 2 minutes when I realized that I’m never going to get better, only worse as time goes on. Then I thought, screw this. If I can make my own wonky inventions, and cheats, and I’m not dyin’ or anything, things are good. But my dreams of becoming the world’s only a bowling/ballroom dancing/card thrower champion are pretty much shot. I’ll just keep some humor and a positive attitude through serious medication…heheh…

My wife, however, is totally freaked out. She’s trying to modify the house, or get it sold so we can live in a one floor house. Kind of overreacting there. I joked about having my walker all picked out and she started crying. And if you look up ataxia, I told her at least she was guaranteed to always be smarter than me.

Anyway, so while I will still post from time to time, I have to give up something else to do with my hands that day. I can do one, or the other. So, don’t cry for me Argentina (and screw you if you don’t get the reference. And if you say you’ll pray for me, I will personally whack you with my cane. If you want to help, come over and rebuild my deck. Or get McChord Air Force base to quit flying over my goddamn house. They come down now so low, that I can see the passengers, the color of their hair, and occasionally sneak a peek at what they’re reading.

And if someone tells me I have to give up my pipe, or relent and go to the VA hospital , I’d rather die on the street. While having my toenails pulled out. Knowing the VA hospital, they’d probably have my ears pulled off instead, and take someone else’s toenails out.

And I absolutely swear to NOT upload the MRI scans to my Flickr account…unless I can get a scanner big enough.

Best wishes to you all, and Facebook readers, I don’t see your comments. These posts are just on my blog and are automatically fed into Facebook and MySpace.

Here’s some links I’ve used to scare the crap out of myself:

• National Ataxia Foundation
• The Neuropathy Association
• WE MOVE – Worldwide Education and Awareness for Movement Disorders

Here’s an excellent link explaining what it’s like to choose between typing or doing something else with my hands: The Spoon Theory written by Christine Miserandino | But You Dont Look Sick?

I had a rollup pouch that I love, with a latex lining. Well, a few tears were starting to show up in the latex, so I shelved my beloved pouch and bought a replacements. Actually, I bought several replacements, because they seemed to keep getting smaller and harder to open.

Finally, annoyed, I resurrected the rollup pouch. Our relationship resumed where it left off. Me stuffing it until it looked like a giant burrito.

Over the past week, things between us have gotten weird. I’d dip in the pouch for tobacco, and it would be empty. But I could feel it in there somewhere. Shrugging, I just kept refilling it.

Today my pouch ran dry, and the lump in it had just gotten larger. I got out a bright desk light, and investigated. Turns out one of the tears in the latex had grown, and the pouch had been hiding the tobacco behind the pouch, and it was almost impossible to get to easily.

I carefully dug out all the tobacco that seemed to be in it, then pulled out the latex. Well, guess I didn’t get all the tobacco out of it, as tobacco went flying everywhere. That’s it. My special relationship with my giant burrito of a pouch is officially over. I may dump the corpse in a ravine.

Anyway, it’s hard to start dating again…er, I mean finding a replacement pouch without fondling each one to see how deep and wide it is. Hmm…this is sounding more pornographic by the moment. So…do you guys have any suggestions? Need a pouch that can hold a lot of tobacco, I can still jam into a pocket regardless if it makes my ass look like it has mumps, and won’t cheat on me. Forget that last part, but you get the idea.

July 23, 2010

The Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau requests public comments on standards that have been proposed to distinguish between pipe tobacco and roll-your-own tobacco for Federal excise tax purposes based upon certain physical characteristics of the two products.  We also request comments on any other physical characteristics that may be used for such purposes.  Comments on Notice No. 106 are due on or before September 20, 2010.

Read the Notice and Learn How to Submit a Comment

Treasury Decision TTB – 85:  Increase in Tax Rates on Tobacco Products and Cigarette Papers and Tubes; Floor Stocks Tax on Certain Tobacco Products, Cigarette Papers, and Cigarette Tubes; and Changes to Basis for Denial, Suspension, or Revocation of Permits

The Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau is adopting as a final rule, with minor technical changes, temporary regulations that implemented certain provisions of the Children’s Health Insurance Program Reauthorization Act of 2009. The regulatory amendments involved increases in the Federal excise tax rates on tobacco products and cigarette papers and tubes, the floor stocks tax provisions of the Act, and the new statutory criteria for denial, suspension, or revocation of tobacco permits. This final rule is effective on August 23, 2010.

Read the Final Rule

So, take that into context, that I’m not whining here, just explaining why I haven’t posted anything in a while. I seem to have a case of…something. It’s arthritis, but it’s really aggressive and it’s getting worse, and just to be annoying, it seems to have come with a palsy. So it’s been kind of painful to type. Yeah, yeah, I’ve finally relented and have an appointment with an orthopedist for a start.

Walking with two steel braces on your knees, another brace on your ankle, two arthritis compression gloves on your hands covered by two wrist braces is really a pain in the ass. Which I haven’t managed to contract so far, thank god.  I have employees who are perfectly capable of being pain in the asses without any help. Back and neck seems just fine though. And I have my lovely cane collection. For your edification, contemporary sword canes are pretty useless. You have to unscrew the handle to withdraw the cane. Try doing that in a tight spot. “Uh, hang on… Give me a second…”

Fortunately, this is as pretty as I’m going to get.

Funniest thing I’ve seen is versions of “Cane Fu.” That’s where someone uses a cane as a defensive weapon in a version of martial arts. Listen, if you actually have to use a cane for support, I have this mental picture of trying to kick someone’s ass, and falling down. “Could you help me up? I’m trying to kick your ass here. Or at least bend down so I can hit you with this damn thing.”

So like I said, not whining, just making stupid excuses as to my absence from anything that requires a lot of typing.

Now excuse me while I go work out on a punching bag from my Lazy-Boy. Would you mind pushing that thing over here for me?

No, on Flickr! Yeah, that’d be http://www.flickr.com/photos/jackslife/

And that’s without any naughty pics! Okay, maybe one or two, but it’s her own fault. I’m not responsible for ex-girlfriends. ::: cough :::

By David Harris | Flint Journal

April 29, 2010, 9:00AM

Under the new law, only cigar bars, tobacco specialty stores and casinos will be allowed exemptions to the smoking ban.

Jeffrey LaMonde | The Flint Journal - Andrew W. Meadows, 45, of Flint, lights up a cigarette at Paul's Pipe Shop, 647 S. Saginaw in downtown Flint, Wednesday afternoon. After the smoking ban that goes into effect May 1st, places like Paul's Pipe Shop will be one of the few places patrons will still be allowed to smoke in. Under the new law, only cigar bars, tobacco specialty stores and casinos will be allowed exemptions to the smoking ban.

GENESEE COUNTY — Don’t call the cops if you see someone breaking the law by lighting up at a bar or restaurant this weekend — call the health department.

The Genesee County Health Department will be responsible for enforcing the new smoking rules when a statewide ban on smoking in bars, restaurants and workplaces goes into effect at 6 a.m. Saturday.

With just 13 workers available to regulate the ban at the county’s estimated 1,000 bars and restaurants, the health department has lined up nearly 30 volunteers to go undercover looking for smokers.

Nonsmoker Rick Snyder of Linden has doubts about how the law will be enforced.

“To me, it’s just setting up for society to be a bunch of lawbreakers,” said Snyder, 49.

Ann Goldon, health education coordinator for the GCHD, said the health department won’t start making unannounced visits to look for smokers until it receives complaints from patrons about a business.

If complaints continue after the health department talks with the establishment’s manager or owner, Goldon said someone will be sent to look for smokers.

Violators — individuals and businesses — can be fined up to $100 for a first offense and $500 for each additional offense. Repeated violations could cost a business its food service license or draw the attention of the state Liquor Control Commission.

County health officials say they will try to avoid fines and will try to work with the business.

“I anticipate there will be good compliance,” said Mark Valacak, county health officer. “The majority (of business owners) are in favor of the regulations.”

Don Vohwinkle, owner of Gina’s Pizza in Flushing, isn’t among the fans of the law and said he doesn’t like government telling him how to run his business.

“We’ve had quite a few customers that said they’ll be staying home (after the ban),” he said, adding he will comply with the law and expects most people will get used to it.

Gov. Jennifer Granholm in December signed the smoking ban into law to make most workplaces, restaurants and bars smoke-free.

Paul's Pipe Shop

Casinos and pipe shops, such as Paul’s Pipe Shop in Flint, are exempt.

But bowling alleys are not. Galaxy Lanes, 2226 E. Hill Road in Grand Blanc, will look a lot different, said owner Ken Hochstein.

He said he may lose some customers but also may gain more back who enjoy the smoke-free atmosphere.

“I think more people will come back,” he said. “People just can’t sit around and do nothing.”

Jack Kern, owner of Jack’s Place in Flushing, said the effect on his business will be minimal.

“I just don’t see it being a handicap,” he said. “It might take a month or two to adapt.”

Michigan will be the 38th state to add the law, and Goldon said enforcement was not much of a problem in those states.

The health benefits to the general public make the effort well worth it, said Goldon. Secondhand smoke is the third leading cause of preventable deaths, according to the state Department of Community Health.

About 300 establishments in Genesee County have already gone smoke-free, Goldon said.

The law can’t come soon enough for Monte Frick, 45, of Goodrich.

Smoking ban

Beginning Saturday, Michigan will become the 38th state to implement a smoking ban. The law prohibits smoking in public places such as restaurants, bars and hotels. Below are answers to some commonly asked questions about the ban.

Q: Where can’t people smoke?
A: Public places, such as an auditorium, arena, theater and concert hall, food-service establishments and place of employment, unless exempted.

Q: Will smoking be allowed in private clubs such as Veterans of Foreign Wars halls?
A: No. If the place has employees and serves food or drink, it is considered a public place.

Q: Can employees or patrons smoke outside a business?
A: Yes, but there is no distance specified in the law for how far someone has to be from a no-smoking area to legally light up, although that distance can be governed by local ordinance in some communities. Genesee County area health officials recommend a smoker be a “reasonable distance” so that second-hand smoke doesn’t drift into the business. The person also must be in an outdoor area where food, drinks or both are not intended to be served or consumed.

Q: Can I smoke on the patio or deck of a bar?
A: No. The deck and other outdoor spaces are considered part of the establishment.

Q: What should businesses and employees do if someone is smoking?
A: Ask them to stop. If they continue to smoke, refuse service and ask them to leave. The state recommends “you communicate this incident with your staff and log it into any tracking mechanism your establishment may have to document your actions.”

Q: Can an individual or business be fined for failure to comply with the law?
A: Violators — individuals and businesses — can be fined up to $100 for a first offense and $500 for each additional offense. An establishment that doesn’t comply could lose its food-service license.

Q: What businesses are exempt?
A: Cigar bars, tobacco specialty retail stores and the gaming floors of some casinos. To allow smoking as a cigar bar, the establishment must make at least 10 percent of its profit from the sale of cigars and from humidors. Even then, customers can only smoke cigars. The law prohibits more cigar bars from opening in the state.

Q: What about a hookah lounge. Can I smoke there?
A: Hookah lounges may allow smoking under the provision of specialty tobacco shops. However, they are not allowed to sell food or drink as a specialty tobacco shop, although snacks from a vending machine are permitted under the law.

Q: Is smoking banned in hotel/motel rooms?
A: Yes.

Q: If a business only has a liquor license, does the new law apply?
A: Yes. The business is considered a food-service establishment based on an amendment to the Food Law Act.

Simon Reynolds
Last Updated: April 27. 2010 6:44PM UAE / April 27. 2010 2:44PM GMT

Saw a chap smoking a pipe the other day. He was sitting in a café in a mall, reading a newspaper and drawing contentedly on a pipe. And it occurred to me that I don’t remember when last I saw such a thing.

Now, you understand that I am not talking about a shisha, but the sort of thing smoked by Maigret, Harold Wilson, General MacArthur – and you’ll notice how far back in time I have had to go for examples.

It appears to be a practice that has gone underground in the past decade or so, a casualty no doubt of the anti-smoking climate. I know that the British Pipesmokers’ Council discontinued its Pipesmoker of the Year award in 2004, worried that the event might fall foul of new laws against the promotion of tobacco.

So it was refreshing in a way to see this fellow puffing away as he read his newspaper. It also stirred an atavistic yearning, mixing memory and desire (it is, after all, cruel April), taking me back more than 30 years to my own days as a pipe-smoker. Aesthetically, there are not many men who can get away with a pipe. Medically, I imagine the proportion is even smaller. But the unwitting agent of my rekindled hunger in the café could. He had the strong face and candid expression necessary to carry it off. I do not.

Nor did Bing Crosby. Watching him with that idiotic briar in Holiday Inn, for example, I just want to strangle the props supervisor. I similarly cringe when I come across old photographs of myself posing pompously with my pipe.

But the look of the thing aside, I did enjoy it. I lived in Harare then and used to smoke my first pipe of the day sitting outside on a chair tipped against a whitewashed wall, the warmth of the early sun tempering the lingering chill of the night air.

Eventually, of course, the chair broke, but that’s not why I gave up. That was the result of a doctor’s advice after I contracted a particularly obstinate chest infection.

I had a girlfriend who worked in a tobacconist’s shop – the one, you will not be surprised to learn, where I took my tobacco business – and she told me a story that in recollection has something of the quality of an urban myth.

It seems that a man who had bought a pipe in the shop returned after a month or two, complaining that the bowl had burnt through. And sure enough, there was a charred-looking hole in the back, just above the stem. Great consternation and embarrassment, of course; the pipe was replaced and the customer compensated with a couple of free packets of tobacco.

A similar interval later he was back. It had happened again: there was a hole you could put your little finger through. This time consternation gave way to incredulity and they asked him how and where he smoked. “I’m a taxi driver, and I like to smoke on the road,” he replied. Didn’t his passengers object? “Yes, so I drive with my window open.”

Never mind the bowl of the pipe in the resulting inferno, I thought. The fellow must have had a tongue like asbestos.

We’ve had a tough few months at the ol’ PO, and I’ve also been dealing with some mobility issues. So anyway, I don’t think it was one sudden thing, but a cumulative effect.

So there I was…in trouble again. My temporary Station Manager was doing an Investigative Interview on me as a precursor to some sort of hand-spanking. I’ve been through these before by much tougher people. Had the Postmaster call me a “fucking liar” once, to which I replied, in that oh-so-delicate demeanor of mine, that he should go fuck himself.

I should add here for you postal people, that I’m a supervisor so the Weingarden Act doesn’t apply to me, and not a member of NAPS (because the represent mostly jackasses),  so I don’t have NAPS representation, but I can still request legal representation. I was denied that option by the Station Manager, and repeatedly menaced that failing to cooperate with a postal investigation could result in my being removed from the postal service. ELM 666 appropriately.

I’m not a novice at this thing. As a supe for 10 years, I’ve managed to rack up 4 Letters of Warning, and a 2 Week “paper” Suspension. So I don’t know why, but suddenly I couldn’t catch my breath, and my hands started shaking more than they already do. I mean really, really badly.

I tried to stay as calm as I could but as we were wrapping up, I knew there was no way I was going to make it. I had a huge meltdown about 5 years back, and this was exactly how it started, so I told the manager I was going to have to leave at that point.

“You’re going out on stress leave?” So-called stress leave is the guarantee that for the rest of your career, you’re going to have your chain jerked by management. It’s usually an angry reaction by an employee as “retaliation” against whoever is pissing them off. So it’s pretty screwed up when you actually are mentally ill.

I clarified, “This is not stress leave. I’m having an anxiety attack. Listen to my voice and look at my hands.”

“So it is stress leave!”

“No dumbass, it’s a severe anxiety attack. I have to go. Now. Straight to the doc’s.” I know a panic attack, and I sure as hell didn’t want it to go as bad as it did 5 years ago.

He initially refused to let me go. Several times. I asked nice. I asked not so nice. I finally told him I was going and he’d have to deal with it. I then actually got lost on my way home.

I couldn’t get an appointment with the doc until the next day.

I talked to the doc and he literally told me that I would have to take the rest of the week off. This is a shrink, by the way, not a general practitioner or family doctor. He said to take extra anxiety meds. He also told me to hold off on sugar and caffeine for the week. Yah, right. Right now I’m just unsafe to myself. No sugar and coffee, and I’ll be a danger to the general public. Besides, he has a candy dish in his lobby. Scored some unhealthy sugary stuff, and went home.

Anyway, he said that the disorientation was part of the flight-or-fight status of PTSD. Rapid breathing as your brain tells you to bring in more oxygen. Trembling of hands as one part of you needs your fist, while the rational side says that you don’t, resulting in a tremor.

So I got my FMLA packet today, and I’ll set up an appointment with the doc to fill out the paperwork. I swear to god, for a severe anxiety attack, the red tape is enough to make you go out on stress leave.

Anyway, not sure of the point of all this, except that there are things that you can tough out when you’re mentally ill, but you have to recognize the symptoms when you start to go in a tail-spin, and know when it’s going to be more than you can handle alone. For your own safety you have to know the difference between what you can handle and what you can’t.

That, and a reminder that calling something “stress leave” in the postal service means the rest of your life with that management team, you’re going to be on shaky ground. And that’s even if you’re a member of management. Like the line on Serenity, “We’re all just folks now.”

God only knows what will be waiting for me when I get back Tuesday. Firing squad (“Blindfold and a pipe, please.” Should stall for about 45 minutes to an hour), retaliation, whatever. I figure I’m covered by the ADA, FMLA, EEOC, and being denied representation, the ACLU. Fuckers.

News from my hometown: Thomas Hovis Jr., 52, fleeing deputies in Albion, Ind., thought he had found a nifty hiding place where they’d never think of looking. He was wrong. They found Hovis standing neck-deep in a manure pit in the outbuilding of a farm. WANE-TV (Fort Wayne)

Oddly enough, this man looks sad and embarrased. Imagine…